#// is a slow and steady thing but it's rewarding as time goes on!
Note
Hey, can I request zoro x reader (established relationship) where the Strawhats end up going to reader’s home island (unknown to anyone in the group aside from reader), and the reader is super nervous and refuses to leave the boat, so the crew goes out and walk around and they find a missing/wanted poster of the reader and find out she’s a run away princess that needed to be. Later they coke to find out that reader ran away cause her parents and the servants mistreated and was about to marry her off to a violent prince
opla requests are: open
lips on every cross
opla!zoro; 5,989 words; fem!reader, semi-established?? relationship, posessive!zoro, strawhat!reader, no "y/n", reader gets kidnapped, fluff and angst, very brief! mentions of past familial abuse and trauma, nicknames ("Princess"), slow-ish burn???, more plot than not
summary: zoro has never thought himself a holy man. but he'd kiss every cross if it meant finding his way back to you.
a/n: idk why every opla fic i write is like... more plot than i bargained for but here we are. literally, this fic was just supposed to be "zoro calls the reader 'princess'".
01. when love arrives
(“Hey Princess —“)
The nickname starts, as almost all things do on the Going Merry, as a joke. And, as with most jokes made amongst the rag-tag crew, it sticks. He’d said it because he’s sure you’d mentioned your name once or twice already, but he’d been napping or eating and he didn’t feel like looking like an asshole right that moment.
The ribbon in your hair had caught the light in just the right way, pale pink satin — such a strange, soft color amidst the careening, careless ocean, and the word just… slipped.
“Why’dyou call her that?” Luffy asks, lounging back against the main mast as Zoro works through the umpteenth rep of single-armed pushups.
Zoro puffs out a breath and switches arms.
“Dunno. Seemed like it fit.”
Luffy slates you a long glance, blinking owlishly.
“Really? Eh — I guess… well, she is really pretty.”
Zoro only grunts, jumping up and stretching both arms over his head with a long, steady breath. His eyes flicker towards you as well, laughing with Nami on the foredeck, sipping on cocktails, Sanji probably simping somewhere nearby.
He thinks back to where they’d found you, hood pulled low over your eyes, the tell-tale signs of distress carved into every line of your body, from the curve of your spine to the bend of your shoulders.
Luffy hadn’t asked questions, so Zoro hadn’t either.
Curiosity, the fatal flaw that runs so sharp and obvious through the entirety of Luffy’s being, hasn’t always been rewarded well in Zoro’s experience. And he’s learned by now that “truth will out”, or so they say.
(“C’mon, Princess, I thought you said you could drink.”)
Caution, on the other hand, is Zoro’s oldest friend. You are cautious, if nothing else, and the first time he sees you relax in his presence, he wonders to himself if there’s a drug in this world strong enough to induce this feeling.
Later, he would learn that this is simply called falling in love.
He isn’t the only one who notices how you casually dip a silver fork or knife into every single drink before you take a sip, or that sometimes, you blurt out the word “no’ like a promise to yourself, and “sorry” like a plea for help.
And he’s spent long enough being a hunter to know what being hunted looks like. So he doesn’t ask, and you don’t answer, and somehow, you still manage to make yourself a home in the dark caverns of his chest, curling up there till he can’t count his heartbeats without it sounding like the shadow of your name on the midnight wind.
02. a study of light and dark
The drinking game starts off innocently enough (and don’t they always), but it takes half a round for the questions and subsequent answers to devolve into loud laughter and debauchery, delirium and debasement.
“Alright, alright —“ Sanji holds up a hand, tossing back his shot to raucous cheers, “worst thing you’ve done in a closet. Go —“
Zoro rolls his eyes and takes the shot, foregoing his answer. Nami simply grins, catlike, swirling her own drink around her glass.
“In your wildest dreams, cook,” she says before taking her shot as well. Sanji lets out a contemplative whistle, followed by a good-natured wink.
“Define worst, cause… I mean, I’ve puked in like… most of them back in Syrup Village,” Usopp says. Sanji only chuckles, shrugging.
“We’ll take it, we’ll take it.”
Luffy hums, frowning for a second before smacking a fist into his open palm, grinning, “I took a nap!”
Everyone laughs, helpless and buoyed up by the casual effervescence of a night like this — when the moon is dark and the stars are bright and thin wisps of silver clouds mar the sky like tendrils of lost daydreams, caught on the wrong side of sunset.
When the laughter settles down, everyone turns to you.
You purse your lips, feeling the weight of your answer pressing down on the tip of your tongue — I hid. And I waited. And I tried not to listen.
As the silence stretches on, Zoro leans forward and uncrosses his arms, reaching out to nudge a full shot glass towards you.
“Times up, Princess — drink,” and though there’s nothing soft or even forgiving in his voice, but you feel yourself relax as everyone boos and you take your shot.
The heat of Zoro’s gaze only lingers on your skin for a moment longer before he leans back again, that familiar almost-grin tugging lazily at his lips as he turns half-lidded eyes towards the rest of his crew.
(“Talk to me, Princess.”)
When you find him later, fumbling in the dark of the hallway just outside his room, you kiss him without saying “thank you” and he doesn’t question it when, pressed beneath him on the rough linen of his sheets, you ask to keep the lights on.
03. etymology
Princess — it’s a nice word, Zoro muses to himself. The light pop of the ‘p’ rolling into the warm, round ‘r’, thinning out into the sensual layering of the double ‘s’s, till you’re left with nothing but a hiss, a shadow, a memory.
It’s a regal word; a pretty word. Though its origins might be anything but.
From the Latin primus “first” and cept “catcher”, or so Robin had told him over the pages of an ancient book he hadn’t bothered to ask the name of, because Princes and Kings have always obtained their powers through taking, and never asking. Reaping, and never sowing.
Zoro thinks then that this, too, is a form conquest — you over him. The totality of your power stunning to behold, if only because he has to let you take it in the first place. And he does so willingly.
He wonders if you, too, are as multifaceted as his nickname for you — delicacy and desire wrapped around a darker something, lace laid over a knife’s unforgiving edge.
The first time he dares to kiss you, he feels you kissing him back, the sharp canines of your teeth catching on his lower lip, drawing out a soft grunt from him. You’d paused, and then you’d bitten down harder just to hear him gasp into your mouth.
He knew then, without ever having to ask, that you are.
04. tip of the iceberg
It is winter when they arrive — but then again, it is always winter here. Here, the cold runs so deep it drives frost crystals into the marrow of your bones. Here, the wind howls like a wounded animal and the night falls with a savage, carnal vengeance, all black velvet and a blood-tinted moon.
Here, the snow storms turn living, breathing heroes into song lyrics and poetry rhymes.
You inhale a single breath before turning and heading back below deck.
Zoro frowns, and at a single look from Luffy, he follows you beneath, only to find you rummaging around the kitchen, tugging a bottle of moonshine out from under the sink.
“Whoa,” Zoro says, reaching out to stop you from uncorking the bottle, an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t miss the way you shiver, “bit early, isn’t it?”
“Bit rich, coming from you,” you snap, eyes sharp, voice stinging.
Zoro only cocks his other eyebrow in tandem and pulls the bottle from your hands before turning and grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. He takes his time filling them both with ice, and then pouring a finger into each glass.
You don’t meet his eyes as you reach out for your glass, but he catches your wrist.
“A drink for an answer,” he says.
You pause, your lips pressed into a thin, white line. And he knows it’s unfair, to turn this game around on you, because he can tell from the hard set of your shoulders that this is so much more than a drinking game but if this is what it takes to get the truth — then so be it.
“Fine,” you say, glancing away, voice clipped.
You move to take a sip, but Zoro pushes down your hand again.
“No lying.”
You scoff, narrowing your eyes, “Obviously.”
He eases off, picking up his own glass and clinking it against yours before taking a light swig, “You know this place.”
This time, you’re the one who turns around with a cocked brow.
“Got a question in there somewhere?”
Zoro’s lips twitch, “Yes, or no.”
You sigh, tapping a finger against the edge of your cup, “Yes.”
Zoro hums, “Your turn.”
You chew on your lips before taking a sip, “Why do you care so much?”
Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Stupid question. Next.”
You huff, “That’s not how this game goes.”
Zoro swirls his glass before setting it down on the counter with a loud clack, “Because I care about you.”
You pause with your own drink halfway to your mouth and look up. Zoro doesn’t shy away from meeting your gaze and for a moment, time statics to a halt around you.
Then, Zoro sighs, unclenching his jaw as he attempts a lopsided smile.
“Hey, talk to me,” he reaches out to trail a finger along the high of your cheekbones, up to the shell of your ear.
The ‘please’ hangs silent in the air between you; the ‘Princess’ is implied.
And for the first time, he thinks he sees you flinch. He makes to pull back but you tug his hand forward, pressing your cheek against his palm.
“This island,” you say, finally, the tremor in your voice like a hairline fracture snaking through a porcelain vase, “it’s… well, it used to be… my home.”
05. the secret history
It is the most beautiful place any of them have ever been.
The castle is made entirely of ice, the cold winter sun refracting the light into a million and one unseen colors. Giant ice-carved sculptures dot the crystal-flower gardens, and it takes them all a few minutes to realize that the gorgeous, delicate blooms are made of glass, blown and shaped to mirror real-life snowflakes — each unique, glittering, and eternal.
“Dude… how long do you think all this took to make?” Usopp asks, his head turning as if on a swivel, his jaw hinging off his face in awe.
Robin sighs, “Too long, perhaps.”
Zoro stays quiet, and beside him, so does Nami.
You’d insisted on staying back, to guard the ship, you’d said. But the space you usually fill in the group hangs solid in the air, a gaping hole of lack when there should be none.
Luffy hums and he marches out in front of them, ever the dubious, fearless leader. Though most of the crew has now come to terms with the fact that “courage” and “sheer bull-headedness” are often two sides of the same coin for him.
It’s Sanji who pauses first, causing Chopper to ram into the back of his knees.
“Ouch! What’dyou do that f —”
“Look,” Sanji says, pointing at a poster pasted to the slick outer wall of the castle gates.
And they do, leaning in, crowding too close. Zoro grunts as Chopper jumps and scrambles up his back to peer over his shoulder at the face plastered on the dew-soaked poster, the words LOST PRINCESS: 120,000,000 FOR ANY INFORMATION THAT LEADS TO HER WHEREABOUTS printed in giant, familiar block letters along the bottom.
Beside him, Zoro can feel Nami swallowing. Hard.
“A hundred and twenty million berry…” she murmurs, her breath going shallow as they all stare, dumbfounded at the poster of what is unmistakably you.
You, with your exquisite features schooled into something like solemnity, your usually wind-swept hair twisted up into a tight braid across the crown of your head, a diadem of ice-white silver and light-cut jewels jutting up from your severe updo like so many broken teeth, sharp and unforgiving as stalagmites.
If none of them had known, it’d be impossible to reconcile you with this cold, distant portrait, your eyes rendered lifeless and dull by the depthless black ink.
Luffy, however, only blinks and turns to stare at Zoro.
“Did you know?”
“What?”
Luffy continues to stare, “When I asked why you always call her ‘Princess’.”
Zoro sighs, turning his eyes back to the WANTED poster before shaking his head.
“No. Like I said… I thought it just… fit.”
06. eternal day
Zoro is itching to get back to the ship. There’s a fish-line sliver of worry tugging at the place behind his chest where his heart should be, and he knows implicitly that something is wrong.
“Don’t worry, she can take care of herself!” Luffy says, smiling bright, his confidence unwavering.
“No Luffy, Zoro’s right — someone should be with her. What if —” and here, Nami glances at Zoro before turning her attention back to Luffy, “— she might need the backup,” is what she finally settles with. And to Zoro’s great relief, Luffy agrees.
And then, to everyone’s horror, off in the distance, your voice rises over the wind in a blood-curdling scream.
07. endless night
By the time Zoro makes it back to the ship, you are already gone.
08. torn asunder
Gone, gone, gone. The word echoes like an ill-fated alarm bell, ringing through Zoro’s entire body as he catapults himself through the ship, slamming open every door, checking every nook, corner, and crevice. Signs of a struggle, that much is clear, scuffs on the freshly waxed planks of the aft deck, nail marks along the railings, and —
Zoro’s breath freezes in his chest.
A smear of blood that drips over the side of the ship, trailing down the ladder.
A flash of pale pink catches his eye.
Your satin hair ribbon lies abandoned on the wharfs’ boardwalk, the faintest splatter of red soaking its ends.
He picks it up between gentle fingers and tucks it deep into his pocket.
His vision blurs red as he thinks about the things your captors might’ve done to you before dragging you off. He’s seen you fight and it wouldn’t have been easy to bring you down.
And by the time the rest of the crew reach him, he’s already sprinting back towards the castle, his jaw set, his teeth gritted.
It takes the combined effort of Sanji, Luffy, and Robin to stop him from charging through the castle gates and tearing the whole place down.
“Runnin’ round like a headless chicken’s not gonna do her any good, mate,” Sanji says, a smoke already caught between his teeth. A pre-fight ritual of his.
Zoro jerks his arm out of Sanji’s grasp, stalking down the street with a huff.
Robin strolls after him, somehow keeping pace, looking unhurried as Zoro tamps down the blind urge to slash the entire island in half.
“We’ll find her,” Robin says, her voice level, even as her sharp eyes scan the white-specked horizon, the usually amused half-twist of her lips laid flat by worry, “and she’s stronger than you think.”
At this, Zoro whips around, “I know —” but he bites down the venom threatening to surge up the back of his throat with a sigh. Robin doesn’t flinch, and Zoro attempts a steadying breath before repeating himself in a slightly softer tone, “I know… I’m just…”
Robin nods, and Zoro is thankful that he doesn’t have to finish his sentence.
09. the tower and the throne
The cold greets you like a scorned lover— a spiteful, savage mistress. Tendrils of frost creep along the walls of your old bedroom to caress your cheeks. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, sitting on familiar satin sheets.
“Dinner is soon, darling,” your mother’s cool voice calls from outside your bedroom door, “and make yourself presentable — we’ve got guests.”
The sadistic lilt of her voice as she says the word ‘guests’ makes you jerk your head up, staring at the door as if you might be able to bore through the thick wood with nothing but your eyes. And, almost as if she can feel you staring, you hear your mother’s cold, tinkling laughter.
“Hurry now… I had your favorite dress put out for you. It should still fit — and we don’t want to keep them… waiting.”
The slow, sanguine pause before her last word makes you want to rip out your hair and scream into the wind till your voice gives out.
Instead, you push yourself up and reach for the dress laid out at the foot of your bed with shaking fingers.
The dress fits you like a second skin, the delicate lace trim barely sweeping the floor as you adjust the bodice, grimacing at your reflection in the large, floor-length mirror. It is as if the last ten months had never happened, as if you’d never escaped this terrifying hellscape of a winter wonderland. As if you’d simply dreamed every single sun-filled afternoon, every star-strewn night spent laughing and singing amongst your new-found crew.
Here, in the fragile glass reflection, you are once again a girl trapped behind her own ribcage, with a destiny carved into stone and ice, with no hope of summer in sight. You take a long breath and tighten the ribbons of your dress.
You are still and silent as the maid slips in through the door after a single knock and begins to twist up your hair. Tighter and tighter, till it sets your teeth on edge. When she pins the crown in place, it takes everything inside you not to fall apart, to shatter at the weight, the sight of it sitting on your head. You swallow as the maid dips her head and backs out of the room with a murmured dinner is served, Princess.
For the first time, you wince openly at her words.
10. waiting for the rain
The hall is just how you remembered it, huge and cavernous, gaping like the empty maw of some petrified monster, the ceiling hanging with so many cold, sparkling chandeliers, ice-carved statues jutting up from the floors like teeth.
You’re marched in like a show animal, the great marble doors swinging open before you as you step forward and feel your breath freeze in your chest.
There, strung up on a massive statue of some long-forgotten saint, is Zoro, cuts and bruises marring his already scarred and puckered torso. But he smirks as he sees you come in, his eyes bright as he spits a mouthful of blood onto the seemingly endless white floors. Around him, the rest of your crew sits, tied and slumped over in chairs like so many sleeping mannequins.
“Hey there, Princess. Just in time for dinner.”
You nearly wince at the raspiness in his voice, the faint trickle of blood that leaks out the corner of his mouth.
“Silence,” your father’s voice echoes out from the high-backed chair at the head of the ludicrously long table. You don’t have to see to know his face is as smooth as just-applied plaster. But Zoro only has eyes for you — and he continues to talk as if he hadn’t been interrupted.
“If you’d told us we’d be welcomed like this, we might’ve packed differently.”
You bite down on your bottom lip so hard you almost taste the metallic tang of blood.
“Our daughter has always been a skillful liar — though it’s a habit we tried to… rid her of in her youth. The lesson never seemed to have stuck.” Your mother this time. And now, you can see the muscle ticking in Zoro’s jaw as he scoffs.
“Really? And here I always thought she was shit at lying.”
You swallow down a whimper as the maid wordlessly leads you to the far end of the table, where Zoro is still tied. You drop into the seat between a snoring Luffy and an eerily still Nami, and it’s all you can do not to turn around and retch onto the silk embroidered rug.
“Be that as it may…” your mother’s voice drops a few degrees — an admirable feat, as her voice is usually just on the other side of frigid, “it’s bad luck to kill on the eve of a royal wedding.”
At this, Zoro’s head snaps around and you shrink back in your chair, your eyes fixed on your fists, clenched in your lap.
“Mother,” you grind out, finally forcing your head up so as to meet her piercing, blizzard-bright gaze, “I’ve told you, I’ve no intention of getting married. At least not to the mongrel you’ve decided to set me up with.”
You spit out the last sentence, trying to remember all the snark, all the confidence that’d built up inside you over the past weeks and months. Away from this dreaded castle and on the sun-soaked bow of the Going Merry, it was the first time you’d begun to discover who you are — the things you liked, the ways of life that you yearned for.
Your father slams a hand on the table at the same moment that Zoro lets out a bark of laughter.
“Insolence!”
“Damn, Princess — you never told me you could bite.”
And, to your horror and perhaps deep-seated pleasure, a blush works its way into your cheeks at Zoro’s words. Your eyes snap towards him, catching his gaze as he smirks at you. And even though his shirt is slashed, his sword hilts hanging woefully empty at this hip, his hands twisted painfully behind him on the statue, he still manages an easy, condescending air.
You seize at this tiny tendril of normalcy as you force a wane smile.
“I might be persuaded to do more than that… if you ask nicely.”
Zoro’s snicker is drowned out by your mother’s sharp gasp. But you don’t look away, holding Zoro’s gaze for as long as you dare — in it, you find an entire abyss of barely concealed rage (and is that… amusement?), his entire body straining against the shackles that hold him. Then, his eyes slip from you to a point just over your shoulder.
It’s then that you realize: Luffy’s not snoring anymore.
11. to reap and to sow
You’re never quite certain of how the Merry’s crew seems to always just wriggle out of frankly gruesome and untimely deaths, but here you are, racing for the docks like your lives depended on it. Because, well, it kind of does.
“Remind me —” you shout between pants, one hand clutched firmly in Zoro’s, the other doing its best to lift the ridiculous dinner dress they’d put you in — a confection of lace and tulle, the bodice laced with pale pink satin ribbon, “how the hell did you guys manage to trick my parents into thinking you’d eaten the spiked food?”
Sanji flashes you a toothy grin, “Ah love… you know how it is — ask us no questions, and we’ll tell you no lies!”
Luffy, however, whoops as he launches himself from a pair of solid brick buildings, catapulting himself over your sprinting crew.
“We just — pretended to eat! I mean — I did kinda actually eat a bit — but — it wasn’t that bad!”
You resist the urge to pinch your nose bridge at the nonchalance with which Luffy is talking about consuming poisoned food, but you’ve only got two hands and both are equally occupied at the moment. You settle for an exasperated sigh.
“That was — really stupid! — What if — they’d — poisoned the food — with something — other than — sleeping medicine?!” you ask, forcing air into your lungs as finally, you all round the bend onto the bustling pier, the Going Merry’s unmistakable shape silhouetted against the misty horizon.
“We can talk when — we’re all back — on the ship!” Nami calls as she sprints passed you, reaching out a hand for Luffy, who’s elongated arm grabs her and slings her onto the deck of the ship. You barely have a second to breathe before Zoro’s arm loops around your waist and you’re being pulled tight into his side.
His breath is hot against your collarbone as he smirks, “Hold on tight, Princess.”
It’s all you can do to listen as you’re suddenly whipped through the air like a doll on a drunken marionette’s string. A bright peal of Luffy-tinted laughter later, you thud onto the deck of the Going Merry, the breath knocked clean from your lungs as the world spins and spins. You’d expected to hit solid wood, or maybe even the railing or the mast but —
Zoro groans beneath you, and it takes you a long second to realize that he’d cushioned your fall, your bodies pressed chest to chest, hip to hip, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders, his still steady around your waist.
“O-oh! Sorry —” you try to pull away but Zoro’s grip on you only tightens.
You freeze as he blinks up at you, eyes slightly narrowed.
“Crown’s crooked,” Zoro finally says, that tell-tale smirk twisting the edge of his lips as his gaze flickers upwards. Your hand jumps to the crown, somehow still clipped into your now disheveled hair, lopping to one side as the braids start to come loose. You purse your lips.
“I never liked it anyway…” You make to tug it out but Zoro reaches up to right it, though he lets his hand linger as he falls along the side of your face.
“Nah, looks good on you.” His voice is so low, and suddenly, air is such a language that you’re certain you’d forgotten how to speak. Slowly, he pushes up till you’re both sitting, you still pressed against him and him still pressed against you. Distantly, you can hear shouting, Usopp’s voice raised high over the wind as the Merry careens out of port and towards the open sea.
But strangely, no one makes to pull you away from him, or him from you.
“I should’ve told you guys…” you say, eyes casting down as you rest your palms against his chest. Beneath it, you can feel his heart — pounding, pounding, pounding. There’s a light sheen of sweat glimmering on his honeyed skin as you swallow, looking back up even as he chuckles.
“Sure, but we should’ve asked.”
You bite your lips, “I think you did.”
Zoro grins, shrugging as he helps you up, somehow managing to keep his arm slipped around your waist.
“Well. Should’ve asked better, then.”
12. lost stars
It takes you a while to tell them the story — the real story, the whole story. And there’s drinking involved, but it’s mostly just you clutching at your half-filled glass, Zoro’s knee pressed comfortingly against yours, even though his eyes are closed, his head leaned back, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.
You tell them about the dark underbelly of royalty that everyone knows but no one wants to talk about — the blood and teeth beneath the silk and silver. You tell them about being raised a bargaining chip, of being sold and promised like a prized heifer on auction day.
You tell them about the moonless nights when the only thing you had to keep you company was the cold, about the “lessons” your mother would teach you, about how the maids would be instructed to hide the bruises just so, about the Prince who you were set to marry and the rumors that plagued his castle —
“They say that he’d take the prettiest girls from the surrounding town as his maids and that none of them ever walked out of his castle again,” you say. The moonshine burns on its way down your throat as you finish your drink.
Wordlessly, Zoro reaches over to pluck the glass from your hand and set it on the table. It’s only then that you realize your fingers are white and trembling.
“Did he hurt you?”
Zoro’s voice is not loud, but everyone turns to look at him. You shake your head, clasping your hands in your lap.
“No. I only ever… met him once, at a dinner party. It was after that that I… ran away.”
Zoro hums, leaning back again, “Good.”
Across the room, Sanji blows out a series of smoke rings and frowns.
“Were you about to offer to hunt him down?” Robin asks, sounding amused.
Zoro shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered — would’ve just done it.”
“He sounds like the kinda guy we should hunt down anyway, no?” Luffy asks, cocking his head as he looks back at you, “I mean, I’m glad he never hurt you but… he’s still hurting people!”
“Luffy’s got a point,” Sanji says, stubbing out his cigarette.
“For once, I agree with Sanji,” Nami says.
There’s a light squabble during which Sanji makes an aggrieved noise and Nami rolls her eyes, and then everyone is laughing and chatting and more drinks are being poured. Next to you, Zoro reaches out to wrap his arm around your waist again. It’s something he’s been doing more lately, and you can’t honestly say that you mind it much at all.
“We don’t have to,” he says, leaning forward, almost as if to brush his lips by your ear, “if… if you don’t want to.”
You shiver at the base rumble of his voice, at the way his eyes are so warm and full of some uncertain promise.
“No, I… I do want to. It’s just…”
Zoro’s fingers trace small, absent-minded circles into the skin of your waist and you fight down another shiver.
“I don’t plan on letting you get kidnapped again, Princess.”
Your gaze snaps up to meet Zoro’s, and there’s a faint smile kissing the line of his lips. And suddenly, the lightness of his touch doesn’t feel so thoughtless as heat curls out from the place where his palm meets your skin, radiating out till you’re breathless with it.
“Oh?”
“Never liked people trying to take what’s mine.”
And the dark possessiveness with which he says mine leaves little room for interpretation, even as you lick your lips and try to think of something witty to say.
“I don’t remember agreeing to be yours.”
It’s the best you can come up with; Zoro’s only response is a soft, contemplative grunt.
“What’s that saying? ‘Actions speak louder than words’?” he flashes you a satisfied grin as you narrow your eyes at him, swatting at his chest as he laughs.
“I meant it though,” he says, a moment later, as the rest of the crew all chatter around you, “about calling it off if you don’t want to. But…” he reaches up a free hand to tug a strand of your hair free from the ponytail it’s tied up in.
“Figured you might sleep better at night knowing he’s gone.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding, your whole body softening as you lean into him, pressing your palms to his chest as he looks at you.
“Yeah… I think I might. And… like you said… it’s not like I’m gonna get kidnapped again.”
You smile, letting your eyes flicker down to Zoro’s lips. His smile is pleased and just a little jagged as he tugs you up by the hand and the pair of you slip from the room.
Above deck, the sun is setting, and the warm, slanted light casts the entire ship in a glaze of gold that looks almost gilded. You lean against the railings, closing your eyes and letting the warmth of the sun seep into your skin, chasing away the chill that’d been lingering at your fingertips since you’d all made your spectacular escape from your home island.
You feel rather than hear Zoro join you. You take your time breathing in the salty tang of the humid sea air before opening your eyes and slating him a side-long look.
“Thank you,” you say.
“For what?”
“For coming after me.”
Zoro scoffs, turning away from the roiling waves to lean back against the railings, his head cocked as he looks you over.
“Like I said… I don’t like it when people try to take what’s mine.”
But this time, you laugh, nodding, “So you’ve said. But still… thanks.”
“Hn.”
Zoro closes his eyes, seemingly enjoying the last vestiges of the setting sun as it sinks ever-lower along the horizon. Then, he opens one eye to peer at you.
“Though I’ve been meaning to ask —”
“Hm?”
“What’s this about doing more than biting… if asked about it nicely enough?”
You try to duck your head but Zoro catches your chin in his fingers.
“I — I just… knew it would piss off my mother if she —”
“Mm, sounded like more than that to me.”
Your breath hitches as Zoro’s thumb traces a rough line along your bottom lip.
“How about… I show you?” and the offer is barely out of your mouth before Zoro is kissing you, his mouth seeking out yours with a soft groan that betrays all the lightness in his touch as he trails his free hand down your arm to pull hard at your waist.
And it’s not the first time you’ve kissed. It’s not even the first time a kiss with Zoro has become more than just a kiss, though you’d always been careful before to make sure that he knew (though thinking back, it might’ve just been an ill-fated attempt at lying to yourself) that the pleasure shared between bodies was just that — pleasure and bodies.
But this — this kiss becomes, and becomes.
It becomes breath and heartbeats, pleasure and heat. It becomes truth and promises and the tantalizing taste of fairy-tale endings.
“Z-Zoro…”
“Yes Princess?”
You hiss as his teeth grazes along your pulse point and your fingers fist in his hair.
“Y’know…” your voice comes out as nothing more than a soft pant as Zoro tugs you over to one of the reclining chairs beneath the orange trees and pulls you over his hips, “I’ve never liked being called that but…”
“But?” his thumbs inch beneath the material of your shirt, circling your hipbones as he smirks up at you.
“I don’t mind it when it’s you.”
Zoro’s grin goes wide and wolfish. Above him, the first stars spark into being as the sun finally sinks beyond the far horizon. For a second, his smile softens as he reaches up to toy with the end of the pale pink ribbon in your hair. Then, he gives it a single, solid tug, and your hair falls open around your shoulders, tumbling down in waves.
Zoro leans up to press a light kiss to the blood-stained satin before letting it flutter off in the wind, twisting into the rapidly darkening night.
“Good… cause I ain’t about to let anyone else call you that either.”
#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece live action#one piece scenarios#opla zoro#roronoa zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x you#x reader#opla#one piece netflix#opla zoro x reader#one piece live action x you#one piece live action x reader#roronoa zoro fluff#one piece fluff#roronoa zoro imagines#roronoa zoro scenarios#floofy floof floof#angst mcgee#scheduled post
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autumn energy reading
like & rb if it resonates ♡
01.
Shufflemancy: Pancakes for dinner by Lizzy McAlpine
Are you getting tired of the push-and-pull? It feels like the moment you put your foot down, tell yourself you're done, they're cute but not that cute, you're getting impatient and want to see movement, that's the exact moment you're pulled back in. The chemistry between you and someone you're dealing with is electrifying. Outsiders could easily think the two of you are an item, and if you're not then you should be. But what's the hold up?
You feel like you're losing it, certain you can feel their presence, lurking, creeping closer, and once they consume your thoughts and have you twirling your hair, kicking your feet as you lay on your bed daydreaming of the what ifs, their energy fades and you begin chasing it down. You're not the obsessive type either. You do not chase, you attract. And I promise you that what you are doing does not constitute as chasing. The person you're dealing with is. It's like their throwing their line into your pond, and you nibble at their bait, but when they fail to reel you in you simply let go. It'll take more than bait to catch you, and I think they're catching on.
We've heard it all before, but it really is them, not you. Something is holding them back even though they want to rush in. Inside them is two knights in the midst of a tug of war. One is rearing to go and wants to reach out and take action. The other is cautious, shy, and wants to take it slow. But the fierce warrior feels a little scared they'll scare you away, and the steady feels a little scared you'll slip through their fingers due to what to you looks like indecision. Please allow this person some time to transmute their thoughts and feelings into a solid offer and determination. They may feel woefully uncertain of your feelings, too. Whilst the chemistry is undeniable, they're certainly overthinking it.
For some of you there could be a power imbalance or other outside circumstance that is causing this extraordinary caution. I'm getting a variety of options, so I'll simply list off several: they could be your boss or colleague, a mentor, an ex of a friend or a sibling, the crush of a friend, a friend of a sibling, someone who is currently taken, going through breakup or divorce. Either way this feels like it goes against the status quo or requires some secrecy and caution on both sides. Besides the shufflemancy song I will also give you the song Starcrossed Losers by The Fratellis because there is a distinct Romeo and Juliet element to this and I keep hearing this song as I'm reading the energy. It's like mutual pining, but there's a need to tiptoe around each other and dance only at a masquerade where anonymity allows you to engage freely. The risk may seem great, but the reward would be even greater. For some of you who are older this could lead to marriage. The risk seems to go both ways, too, which makes the tension feel that much more tangible.
I think this is the one time playing some games might actually work in your favour, and I don't take such things lightly as clear and direct communication is something I revere, and you may do too, but this one time I think ignoring that bait and giving them space to develop a little bit of fear that you'll slip away will create enough friction to light up a sense of urgency for them, leading them to drop the fishing rod altogether and simply dive in to get to you. So take a breather, live your life, speak when spoken to and hold your energy steady and available, but refuse to entertain the push and pull dynamic and demand they get out of their head and spring into action. They may need the wake-up call. There may be plenty of fish in the sea, but they certainly don't just jump into the boat on their own, so don't make them make you do all the work.
Additional details:
Hangman (the game), hair changes (colour, cut), investments, unexpected income, first snow, oversized sweaters, bruises, blue pen, dietary needs (deficiencies, anemia, veganism, gluten free, allergies), fall/winter jacket, navy blue and army green, pets, home decor, thrift shops, couches (sleeping on the couch, couch surfing, sleepovers), butterflies, funerals, spotify playlists, keys, Switzerland, Ireland, Georgia, Midwest USA, Iceland, Norway, India. Virgo/Leo/Pisces/Scorpio/Cancer, 222/333/888/23, July/August/October.
02.
Shufflemancy: 'tis the damn season by Taylor Swift
The song I got for this one feels oddly specific. Perhaps you have some core memory tied to autumn or winter, a past love or heartbreak, loss of a loved one either literally or through ties being cut and going your separate ways. Either way, you may be feeling nostalgic around the time you're reading this, and it feels bittersweet. You may say it's mostly bitter, but there is a sweetness present too, even though you're pushing it as far down into the depths of the darkest corner of your mind like a dusty box of memories you'd like to forget. Your recently played songs may say otherwise, though. You could find your thoughts drifting away when you're not fully occupied and busy, to people and places you couldn't revisit without triggering some still-sore feelings.
Another thing that seems to be patchworked into this quilt is someone new, but it feels like the threads are quite loose. Maybe you ripped one square out some time ago and found a replacement, but it doesn't fit quite right. It could be a very confusing circumstance, a situationship, a talking phase that keeps going on and on and on, without anything set in stone. Perhaps that was alright by you at first, this could be a rebound or a new chapter you ventured into with a carefree and light heart, not expecting much more than some pleasant times for the short-term. But things got quite blurry fast, didn't it? Like a line drawn in the sand much too close to the shoreline getting washed away by the rising tides. You may have settled into a comfortable agreement of nothing serious, only for one or both of you catching feelings, but neither doing anything about it.
For some of you, you may feel like you're being treated like a significant other, as though you're in a commited relationship, like those boundaries of previous agreements were crossed and you entered something more, but seemingly unbeknownst to them. You yearn for clarity, a yes or a no, because you're growing tired of wondering what this is and where it's going. You could desire commitment and parting ways equally because this middle ground is hazy and unsettling in its indecision. You're the irresistible force and they're the immovable object. A strange paradox that you wish to see a solution for, for better or worse.
I see you tossing and turning, restless and wanting something tangible. Like you're surrounded by only mist, stumbling in the dark with nothing solid around you to hold on to. Not even the ground beneath your feet feels entirely solid. Like you're existing in space, no up or down, no corners, no left or right. You have more questions than answers, and every unanswered question breeds more questions. The person you're dealing with can't even be described as being hot and cold, just lukewarm. Neither refreshing or cozy.
Don't give your time and energy away for free. If you yearn for more, demand it. And move on if it isn't granted. Beware of trying to fill the void left by one with another if they simply don't fit. If you lost a corner piece of the puzzle, a centerpiece won't fit, and ramming it in won't complete the picture. There is potential with this piece and it could be more than what it is, but you need to redraw the lines and confront them with your needs.
Additional details:
Glowing stars, LED lights, layered clothes, chokers, mullets, lgbt, exams, train rides, group activities, events, poetry, doorbell ringing, left on read, birthday presents, social media (ig), psychology, internships, tattoos, cartoon characters, comic books, cobblestone, cute socks, chapped lips, butterflies and moths, bats, storms, power outages, Austria, Germany, Brazil, South Africa, Ghana, Japan. Scorpio/Aquarius/Aries/Virgo/Capricorn, 444/555/25, May/November/December.
03.
Shufflemancy: Rabbit hole by AViVA
I won't lie, this one felt very uncomfortable to read. Do you feel like your past actions were mistakes after all? Like you picked the wrong route in a game and only recently realised you shouldn't have gone down this path and wish you could go back and change your decision? You felt so sure about it back then. It was the clearest path forward, it made so much sense. One path was paved and lit up so well, had wonderful opportunities and helping hands along the way. The other one was overgrown, covered in exposed roots threatening to make you stumble and fall, it was dark and winding and wouldn't let you see further than the next bend, no telling what lurks behind the next tree.
You may have recognised, or you are beginning to realise, that you chose wrong. Not entirely by your own volition, but guided by people you thought had true and good intentions. They served their own good above yours, didn't they? You may feel ashamed that you were lead astray so easily. That jagged path looks so much more exciting now, like an adventure full of surprises and growth and opportunities, whilst the path you're on feels plain, pre-determined, and most of all not your own.
Some of you may have cut ties with significant people as you parted ways, and that may haunt you now. Don't be too harsh on yourself. Sometimes we need to take detours to learn lessons separate from those closest to us. When our paths part, they may cross again in the future. Not every goodbye is forever, some words and actions can be forgiven, and reconciliation is never entirely off the table so long as two people agree to meet there to discuss.
I see you walking down a street and coming across ghosts from your past. Not wholly unpleasant, but unnerving nonetheless. For some of you the roles may be reversed, and you are the ghost spotted by somebody who once betrayed you somehow, and now bear witness to the person you grew into once they removed themselves, and see the life you now lead without them. There is a mix of regret, shame, and envy here. Whichever of you chose the beaten path now sees the other leading a life of excitement and adventure, and wish they had done things differently.
This energy may come to a head in the next few months from the time you read this. You, or they, may reach out. If not for reconciliation then at the very least for closure. It would be best to forgive and agree to be cordial even you don't decide to give each other another chance. As for those snakes you may have discovered around you, do not hesitate to cut people off that don't serve your best interest. Don't give up your time and effort to fair weather friends when you desire mutual respect and the ride or die experience. You deserve better, and have all the opportunities to find better as long as you cut dead weight loose so that you can truly soar.
Additional details:
Bookshops, stationery, notes, emails, messenger bags, roses, animal crossing, picture frames, scrapbooks, younger siblings, book series and fandoms related to books or tv shows, cosplay, photography, Hannah Montana, blonde or light brown hair, spirituality, letters, diary entries, neat handwriting, tinder, Italy, Hungary, Scandinavia, South Korea. Capricorn/Sagittarius/Libra/Aries/Scorpio, 000/555/411/2020, January/May/November/December.
04.
Shufflemancy: Candy by Robbie Williams
With all these delays on so many fronts, you'd think the boss music would quiet down too, right? But alas, you may have felt it in your bones, been constantly alert and ready for something, but that something seems to be taking its sweet time to make itself known. There's been anticipation in the air despite the rains of doubt, delays, rejections, and all kinds of curveballs coming down on you. It's frustrating to know exactly where you're going and how to get there, but having stop signs and road work ahead at every turn preventing you from moving in that direction.
You've been very hard on yourself as of late. Seek help if you need it, but most of all be merciful with yourself and don't carry fault when it's not yours to carry. You've done enough, and if the world won't bend, you don't have to. Sometimes we throw ourselves at doors that just will not open, and it's not our fault but the doors for not budging. Don't hesitate to ask for non-professional help either. You have more listening ears than you think, just be clear whether you need affirmation or advice, because you may feel too vulnerable for the latter if you feel like you've already tried everything. Nobody wants to collapse after a race of which they weren't the victor, only to be told to get back up and run another mile. You don't need to have that kind of tenacity and willpower. It's okay to rest, to need a hug and a good cry and some understanding, kind words.
Take a well-deserved break, and most of all let others treat you to something nice. You may have trouble accepting not just help, but doting too. Do not get bashful and turn down offers now, but accept them as blessings that you are well within your right to accept and enjoy wholeheartedly without guilt or shame. A little break may also be just what the doctor ordered, as distancing yourself from the stormy seas for higher ground could result in better perspective and understanding of how and where things went wrong, and how to traverse the waves when you get back to it. Things that wouldn't budge before may finally start moving along once you've caught your breath and have the energy to try again. If you've been looking to relocate, the previous struggles and clouds of doubt could lift as if on their own, and by opening yourself up to assistance you could find more hands to help you push those boudlers uphill.
You may also have had an inkling about the following, as you're a very observant and intuitive energy easy for me to read, but the boss music you have been hearing as of late may be drumming up the entrance of a significant new person or group of people, arriving into your life soon. This person, or these people, may be older than you, or more experienced in some way. This will feel like being taken under the wing(s) of someone, a mentor like figure, who can show you the way where you have previously been running blind and lost on your own.
An important thing to note, however, is that they won't do everything for you, which at first may be disappointing as you've been doing everything all by yourself for so long, but these people, or this person, will show you the way and walk alongside you, ready to be leaned on when necessary, but not dictate the pace at which you go at, nor what you do, when you do it, and how you do it. You'll quickly find this a better alternative, as ultimately you want to be able to say you made it on your own, and see the fruits of your labour with your name on them, and you truly deserve the applause for all your hard work and efforts.
Additional details:
Travelling, airplanes, dinner, shopping sprees, new shoes, electric blue, orange, sunsets, Paramore, vtubers, ASMR, drawing/painting, digital art, plushies, fruity scents, dogs, D&D, astrology, paperwork, therapy, social work, bills, moving, new coworkers/classmates, Roman empire/mythology, kitchen magick, the UK, USA, Australia, Mexico, Honduras, Peru. Sagittarius/Libra/Taurus/Gemini, 111/222/12/21, April/September/December.
05.
Shufflemancy: Brightside by Arrested youth
Feels like a very strange time, doesn't it? Like you're putting on a pair of new shoes identical to an old pair you're replacing with the new. They look the same, but don't yet fit quite right and need to be broken in. You may be relearning a lot of things. Maybe you got out of a long relationship, romantic or platonic, even familial, or moved away to a brand new place, and nobody told you this transition into a new chapter, a new way of life, would come with growing pains as you learn to live your own life as a separate entity from someone, some people, or circumstances. It's equally empowering and unnerving. You can do more of what you want, but perhaps you forgot or never had the chance to quite figure out what that is.
Allow yourself the time and space to break this new chapter in. Don't rush and give yourself blisters from trying to run too fast too soon. Trace your steps back to things you used to enjoy, the things, places, and people that brought you joy, and used to sink your time into more back when time was a more abundant currency. Those in your life who understand what you're going through will also be less demanding and be more forgiving when you go through trial and error in terms of how to delegate your time.
And by all means, embrace opportunities to meet new people, but if you got out of a long-term romantic relationship I would caution against starting anything new too soon. You just got out of commitment waters, and you're still soaked and dripping, and this is likely to attract people who want long-term, but until you're dry and healed from the past, it would do both you and prospective partners more harm than good to get into something new. You need time to be whole within yourself, not as a part of a duo, but your own individual with options to grow in any direction you want without a say from anybody else. Even a short-term fling will hinder this growth, because if you're barely out of the commited mindset, it'll be difficult to not revert back to it only to feel cornered again and begin fighting for your freedom.
Some of you may have eyes on somebody new. Ask yourself if they're just a shiny new version of the old, with upgrades that undo much of the bugs and grievances of what you had before. Perhaps they are better in many ways, even ideal, but you could end up measuring them up to the old flame without thinking, and nobody deserves to be compared to other people. Nobody deserves to feel like a new iphone, because they will learn quickly that another one will be in the making the moment they're on the market, and fearing replacement somewhere down the line is neither fun or healthy. That's not to say you would keep lining up for new iphones every time, but do take time to really finetune what it truly is that you look for in a partner, and be specific.
Someone who originally makes your heart flutter may instead have potential to become a lifelong friend. Somebody you can rely on, who will tell it like it is, guide you, be there for you, and truly show through not just words but actions that they have your best interest at heart. This person may teach you a lot, and broaden your horizons in ways you previously thought impossible. They could be younger than you, or simply more childlike and carefree than you, but you will be amazed by their strength, courage, and resilience, and they may hold quite a bit of life experience, which they easily wield to help you make your life look like one you can feel proud of. It would be a shame to reduce a life companion to a romantic partner when sometimes platonic love can get your farther and help you reach the love you deserve. Don't rush to get the bride or groom when the bestman or maid of honour is right in front of you. They may quite literally hold the key to your next relationship with the various doors they can open for you.
Additional details:
Vikings, runes, the moon, Star wars, video games, co-op games, boardgames, nostalgia, guitars, cereal, tech, numbers and codes, inside jokes, mattress on the floor, solitude, fire, smoke, coffee, oatmeal, fasting, red/ginger hair, cats, packages and deliveries, medicine and vitamins, blueberries, rings, camping, mermaids, autumn equinox, aurora borealis, ghosts, the word "issue", Canada, the Philippines, Malaysia, New Zealand, UAE, Eastern Europe, Chile. Cancer/Pisces/Gemini/Capricorn, 13/999/666, February/March/July/September.
06.
Shufflemancy: Sweater weather by The Neighbourhood
Emotionally you may feel stuck between a rock and a hard place. Things outside of yourself seem to be dictating what you can and cannot do or say or feel. You could be grieving lost love, but it feels less like you miss the person, and more like you miss how things were when things were fine. But you're also learning how much of that was a facade, a lie, or plain and simply a monotonous kind of "good enough". You may have felt settled and lulled into a sense or security of something that seemed so stable, and willfully overlooking any lack, flaw, and bump in the road and something arbitrary. Told yourself nobody's perfect, life isn't like in the movies, love is more stable without fire and butterflies, the routine is safe and the unknown is scary. That didn't pan out very well, did it? For some of you, you may have been cheated on, betrayed, lied to, hurt by somebody you never knew bore claws. Others of you, perhaps you realised all this time you were becoming more of a shell of your former self and living up to the expectations and standards set by someone else. For a few of you, this reading is moreso about a project or opportunity than a person, so take what resonates and flip it as necessary.
Amidst this grief and confusion, however, there seems to be a light, and if we allow for a litte bit of a cliché, it may feel as if it's the light at the end of the tunnel. For some of you it's possible the arrival of someone new into your life really shook things up, and they served as a catalyst to help you see how dreadful your life has become. This shake-up could've been quite the whirlwind and caught you off guard. This person feels new in more ways than one. Perhaps you previously stuck to more stable and reliable people, those who gave you a sense of familiarity as they reflected some of your own traits, who fit you like a glove. Your energy feels solid, meticulous, responsible, and very steady. You would understandably be shocked to the core when the wind suddenly picks up and it begins to hail and shine all at once in a life so frequently overcast and dull, yet predictable and safe.
A part of you has enjoyed the change of pace, right? There is something exciting and invigorating about the unpredictable nature of this hurricane hitting your shores. It can be triggering a bit of a saviour complex in you, too. One that seeks to calm the storms and tame the winds. You may find yourself protective of this person, but you're learning not to underestimate them. They may have been through a lot, but perseverance is something they pride themselves in. At first you may think of them as a fool caught up in storms of their own making, but eventually it dawns on you that they are more in control than they let on, and despite the turbulence they face they have unique ways to handle things all on their own. Your desire to protect and save them is insistent, but transmutes into assistance instead over time, and you may even become inspired by their tenacity and their wild ways.
There could be a brief period of radio silence between you and this person in the near future, which forces you to come to terms with your feelings. Divine timing seems to be at play, as the sudden disappearance of the sun forces you stare into the dark of the night and face your own shadow. Here you may learn that the two of you could be a perfect match. Opposites attract, don't they? You're similar enough to have mutual respect, love, and understanding, but different enough to keep things interesting and to cover your bases. Your weaknesses are their strengths and vice versa. Think of how far you could both go if you joined forces. This realisation, along with admitting to yourself that hiding your heart and staying in the corner licking old wounds forever will do you no good, will set you out on a path towards a future that firstly looks more like one built for you by you, and secondly gets you farther, faster, with better rewards and real gold in the pot at the end of the rainbow.
Perhaps it won't be easy, but I advise you to step outside of your comfort zone. You may wish to delay, wait and see, to take things slow and steady as you normally do, but know that this time that simply won't do. This is a great challenge with promise of even greater rewards, but it feels time sensitive. Just as the night gives way for the sun to rise, so too does the sun set to cast the day into darkness. You may dig your heels in and object, insisting good things are worth waiting for, but let me flip the script for a different perspective: would you like to stand in the pouring rain, waiting for somebody to open the door and let you in, or would you eventually stop ringing the doorbell and seek shelter elsewhere? Make up your mind before they do, and take action accordingly.
Additional details:
Tickets (events, travel), hoodies, gym, weightlifting, pets, plants, rice and noodles, disney, old cartoons, expecting/checking for messages, sleepless nights, sweet scents, coconut, vinyls, denim jackets, Brokeback Mountain, redbull, espresso, hiking, foraging, cooking, silence, empty house or office, greyscale, hair ties/scrunchies, 8-bit games, metal, Liechtenstein, Lithuania, Montenegro, the Maldives, Zimbabwe, either the state of Georgia or the country, Virgo/Cancer/Leo/Aquarius, 111/666/777/10/30, June/July/October.
#pac reading#energy reading#tarot reading#intuitive reading#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick a card reading#pac#love pac#love reading#soapy.post#tarotblr
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May I request fem!reader teasing Doppo until he goes into his 'berserk' mode? 😳
Fem!reader teasing Doppo until he goes into his 'berserk' mode
Ahhh Doppo and his wild side.. Love to see him as a bottom but sometimes.. 🤭🤭
femreader, teasing, begging, masturbation (giving), humping;; 1226 words;;
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
;MINORS DNI;
"Sh.. Doppo, don't be so shy now, alright?"
Ah.. It's even hard to say what titillates his body even more - such light playful touches on his waist as you slowly take off his jacket, or this tease that you whisper right in his brain, making his already melted brain turn into a complete mush.
All your poor boyfriend wants from such a long work shift it's to feel warmth of your hands, your touches, your attention. And you're willing to give him these, just not in the needed proportions - with such games you just increase his appetite, not calming it down.
"Mm, you work so hard today, it's time to have a reward, don't you think?" - the way you pin him to the wall right in the corridor, rushing things yet still being so slow with your touches makes him whine.
"S/o.. Please.." - his jacket already on the floor, and oh how much he wants to pull his pants too, but instead all that he receive it's your arms playing with his tie, boiling his imagination.
"No no no, dear.. Be a good and patient boy, okay?" - your sweet coo makes him whine, already in such a needy, weak tone..
Patient.. Your hand slipped under his shirt, tickling his tummy, and Doppo can't help but jut his hips upwards, wishing to feel this contrast of softness of your hand and hardness of his dick. Just how can he be patient if you know how to heat his whole body up with just a few touches..?!
It's unbearable, and his own hands moved to your shoulders, grasping you with another whine, with another beg. But you really love to see him like this, do you? As your movements still so slow and steady, and your whisper still so devilish, incandescent his nerves. The more he whimpers, the more playful you get, teasing your boyfriend with small brushes of your knuckles to his belt buckle.
"Already so needy, my darling? You always so sensitive around me.." - you can't help but giggle, enjoying every whisper and gasp from Doppo. You're not a sadist, but sometimes it's so hard to control yourself when his reaction is so amusingly sincere, he's too weak to even try to hide how easily aroused he gets. - "Okay, okay, don't get too whiny.."
Finally, you unzip his pants, letting his now exposed dick twitch a little in the cold air of the corridor, before gently wrapping your fingers around flushed head. Another trembling gasp breaks from his lips as Doppo tosses his head back with shued eyes. There's no need in actually jerking him off to pull more sinful sounds from him, even such small lazily movements with which you continued to tease him were enough, and the corridor quickly filled with more whimper and moans.
Still.. His cock spasming, asking, begging for more, but.. All he receives is your nimble fingers up against the tensed length, then upwards, enjoying every centimeter in torturing speed, making his hips shake. And every time Doppo starts rubbing himself more against your palm, whining for more friction, you just keep moving your hand away with a sweet scold in his ear.
You just love when your boyfriend loses his mind, when his weak, thin body overstimulates to the point where he can't even stay straight or think about anything but pleasure. And when your free hand reached to unbutton his shirt, just to play with his sensitive small nipples, that's it.. Your smuggy visage started to warp, blackness crowding in on his vision as the only thought that pulse in his mind was 'I want more'.
"S/o.. Ah.. faster, please, faster.." - he sobs, holding your shoulders in such a pathetic, desperate manner. - "I.. I wanna cum.. I wanna cum s-so bad.."
"Mm? Who said I will let you? We just started, my boy.." - your words always make him grow hot, but this time Doppo froze, still panting and sobbing but with widened eyes.
"B..but.. But.. s/o.." - his arms lowered to your waist, so helpless..
"Shh.." - you let go of his dick, instead placing both hands on his chest that heaves with deep, unsteady breaths. - "Don't rush things, okay?"
Then you latched around his neck.. Very timely, when the grasp on your waist suddenly gets so firm as Doppo quickly takes his weight off the wall and pins you instead, almost pounding you to the hard surface.
"Don't rush things..?!" - his whole body pressed to yours, and you mewl, feeling the pressure of his dick against your stomach. - "You cling to me like that before I even take my shoes off, and you ask me to not rush things?!"
The way his whiny quiet voice gets so low and husky makes your insides clenched and tingle. Oh, you absolutely forgot about how wild your boyfriend can be.. Or maybe there was your plan from the very beginning? Anyways, now you were sandwiched between his hot body and wall, at his whole disposal.
"Oh, be a good boy, be a patient boy.." - he repeats your words in some parody tone, grasping your hips and spreading your legs so aggressively. - "It's YOUR turn to be good and obedient, and let ME use you as I want, understand?!"
His hips slaps to yours as he lets his dick slip under your skirt and press to warmth of your folds. Doppo leans to your neck, and your hair stands on end from such a satisfied guttural growl so close to your skin.. he suddenly starts moving, thrusting his twitching cock against the thin fabric of your panties.
"Fuck.. I can feel how wet you're.." - just how you tickle him with your sweet mumbles, he pays you a favor with some mockery, chuckling. - "Acting like you're in charge but get so drenched when I use you like that.. You were waiting for it, weren't you?"
All the response that you were capable of right now was a small moan, but it's exactly what Doppo wants to hear - how powerless you're now, just squirming around to feel harsh strokes of his dick on your folds more. He holds you tight, pounding in the wall with all his strength, not even controlling neither his hips nor his voice.
"How pathetic, can't even talk back? But we just started, aren't it your words..!?" - his thrusts get more sloppy but no less fast as he presses his glans to your entrance through fabric.
Your thighs squeezed around his waist, and you whine again, feeling how needy your pussy clench now, begging to feel this strong pressure more closely. Ahh, just how good it would feel, to be manhandled by your absolutely feral boyfriend. These thoughts just make you bite your lips as you start gyrating your hips around his cock.
"Fuck.. Like this, that's the right.. ah.." - in one moment his voice broke, and you felt slick thick warmness on your pussy and inner thighs. For a few moments Doppo keeps moving his hips, spreading his cum on your folds, before slowly pulling away. His trembling but strong hand grasps your chin, making you look up at his darkened eyes that gloves with some wild hungry lust.
"We just started..I will make you pay for all these stupid games for a whole night.. and don't you think it would be an easy lesson."
#hypmic x reader#hypmic imagines#hypmic#hypnosis mic#hypmic smut#doppo kannonzaka x reader#hypnosis mic doppo#hypmic doppo#doppo x reader#doppo kannonzaka#Doppo Kannonzaka smut#【🍓】
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Spicy Alphabet: Sesshomaru
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
*Lick...lick....lick......lick*
Sesshomaru grooms you. Any nicks or scratches will be healed. If you're a demon too, he'll expect you to do it in return. Essentially pack bonding.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Sesshomaru: His whole being. His aura, strength, and beauty is a blessing to this world. He's not arrogant about it. It just is.
You: Hips. The perfect switch in your walk. Shapely hips with alluring curves rewarded his eyes. The perfect resting place for his hands. They are soft to squeeze. And if you sway your hips near him, he will jump you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
This One cums exorbitantly. Selectivity with sexual activities causes little sexual interaction with others. Lord Sesshomaru will go without for years if need be. Factor in that doesn't masturbate. He’ll be able to cover your whole face.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He’s cum in his pants from seeing how you move during spars/practice. From a quick observation, he just seemed to serenely turn away. On the contrary, he was rushing to hide the warm cum dripping out of his slit.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Not very, it mostly consisted of oral sex and foreplay in his teenage years. Never penetration. But! This One is exemplary at all tasks they perform. Do not worry, you will be more than satisfied.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Know y'all know what I'm going to say....
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Neutral. He's just playful. That’s the goofiest you’ll ever get him to be
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Tip top shape. Are you kidding? And yes, that gorgeous white hair with the teeniest bit of curl matches
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Reasonably so and will become more intimate as the relationship progresses. It's mostly through his animalistic gestures
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Doesn’t. If he really needs to, he will just imagine a sex scene. Or you giving him a lap dance with those fantastic hips, plump lips, gorgeous legs and -
Ah, he's already cumming without touching himself.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Biting, breeding, cutting off clothing (yours), power exchange, kinbaku, intelligence, strength
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere on his estate, even if workers are walking around. If not there, then a random cave
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You dancing, specifically any sensual hip movements.
Jewelry that accentuates your neck, worshipping him, "My Lord, I need you now.." while rubbing against him. Hearing you put a peasant in their place and/or you show off your intellect
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Nothing disgusting, nothing that will scar permanently, crying, being standoffish towards him (ironic)
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Enjoys both, but really loves eating you. Delicious and Divine in taste and smell. It can be overwhelming how rich and luscious you are. He will spend forever torturing you.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Steady momentum and hammering deeply
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
This one does not favor these 'quickies'. It should be standard to take the time to have you in a beautiful frenzy.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Yes, he will experiment. Hell, he will be alive for a long time. Might as well try things out before he gets bored.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
God level. Depends on when you or him decide it's enough
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Own toys? No. But he will buy any gadgets you want. If you're from the future, he may slyly ask for you to bring some to him.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
[Sesshomaru] (You)
"This one wishes to continue enjoying your taste...."
"....you've been down there for an hour now please, my lord!!!"
"Hn....your plea has been considered."
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Mostly short exhales. Talks in a playful tone, soft and ethereal. "Ah, you are begging? Y/n, you sound incoherent. Speak clearly." In his demon form, it's mostly whines and growls.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
One guy started moaning as Sesshomaru threw him to the side and stepped over him. Nigga, Seshomaru was disgusted.
He just killed him as quickly with his venom whip
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
7.5
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High, but he can control it well
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Nope. He likes to feel you fall asleep. Then, he determines what he wants to do after you're comfortable
#sesshoumaru#sesshoumaru x reader#black reader#x black reader#inuyasha#spicy alphabet#grown folks business
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Aymeric Spicy 18+ & Fav Position
A/N: I know I've made an Aymeric one in the past, but this one is an update.
Warnings: Sex, edging, mention of exhibitionism, Oral sex
Fav Position: Oral under his desk / The grip
when you have your first time with him, he does missionary
he's a gentleman after all
he just wants your first time to be everything you'd ever dreamed of
and he's a little nervous
his hands wander along your body
his fingers touch you in all the right places
once he's done showing you the touch of a prince, he touches you like the commander he is
his hands are on your ass, pulling you closer
he hums at your gasps as he goes in deeper
he edges you until you're almost at your brink
and that is when he gruffly asks you if you're okay to continue
he can't help but chuckle when you beg him to let you cum
and he rewards you because you've been so good for him
normally he's too much of a busy man to have you all night
and he has so much sexual tension built up
as much as he fantasizes about taking you up against every surface in his office, he can't just do that
right?
he does cave and lets you crawl under his desk to tend to him
his quill shakes violently as he tries to write and sign things
he can barely handle how your hot mouth takes him
he has to grab your hair and slow your movements
or he holds your head in place so he can take a sharp breath to keep himself from shooting his hot load down your throat too soon
when someone enters his office asking him about a recent development on some important Ishgardian matter and you're under his desk, he has to cough to stifle his groans
you're taking him so well but he's losing control
"Are you alright Lord Commander?"
*coughs* "Fine." *coughs* "Got a cold."
he can feel your smirk against him
he'd be sure to edge you until you're crying and begging him later as punishment
if it isn’t clear already, he loves it when you manhandle his cock
give him a hand job or blow job and he’ll be at cloud nine
not to mention he can’t last long when you ride him
watching your facial expressions and feeling you around him is heaven
but he is truly devilish when he goes down on you
he is quite talented with his mouth
he’s there to please you and be pleasured himself
when he’s in romantic mood, he is gentle and loving
he will cradle you in his arms and kiss you as he moves inside you with a steady pace
he doesn’t go fast in these times as he wants to savor the moment
he will tell you how much he loves you as he trails kisses down your body
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😳 yandere Ingo slipping his darling an aphrodisiac, but he wasn’t ready for them to through that ass back and start riding him with reckless abandon? Like it starts with him having them folded but then they take over?
Sorry this is long 😅
No no your fine this is perfect
Yandere ingo giving Aphrodisiacs to s/o
Gn!reader
Cw: dubcon, drugging, yandere, mild choking
Ingo bit his lip as he drops the powdery substance in your tea mixing it in. He would never go this far usually but he can't take it anymore. He can't take watching as his colleagues looking and touching you as you reward this insulin behavior with smiles and laughs.
Ingo stares at you quietly watching as you bring the cup to your lips taking small sips come on just a little more.
He kept you busy talking about work-related topics, his eyes continuing to wander at the cup try not to look too suspicious every time you take another drink.
He did not expect you to drink the whole thing but that's okay the more aphrodisiacs inside your system the better.
Your mind was cloudy, your body was hot you didn't even notice your boss laying you on his bed folding you in half. Bare bodies touching each other as he Strokes his hard cock to put inside of you. Your body aches with need, legs wrapping around his waist eager to take everything he has. Tilting your head back moaning, drooling as a slowly sinks himself inside of you. The cold Lube feels amazing against you're hot clenching walls.
Ingo kept a steady pace leaning down to kiss you as he drives his cock inside of you. This was not enough for you, you needed more!" Hah! Mmm! Please, harder"
He Happily complied bucking his hips deeper, harder inside. Ingo's lips move from yours to your neck murmuring sweet words against your skin.
It still wasn't enough, the burning sensation inside of you was growing hotter and hotter. You're insides we're squeezing him. Ingo tries to keep up with your demands but his pace was slowly faltering.
His orgasm hits him hard, the grip he had on your wrists softening.
With all your strength you flip him over. His cock leaving you for a moment his seed dripping from your hole.
Ingo couldn't even react for a moment before your hand Slammed on his neck, your other hand stroking his overstimulated cock trying to work it back inside of you. His mind goes blank as you give me his neck a small squeeze slowly sinking back down.
You didn't waste any more time slamming back down over and over. Forcing his cock to drill harder and faster inside of you. His loud choked moans drive you insane.
Ingo's eyes roll back his orgasm hitting him harder, but you didn't stop grinding your hips down on him milking him, before picking your pace back up.
"Oh! S'much, HAH-! MH! S-SLOW D-DOWN!"
His yelling fell on deaf ears, making his legs quiver when you roll your hips in circles. It was clear that you weren't going to stop until you were satisfied.
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BLACK TIE OPTIONAL: PART THREE
Summary: The last time we saw Vanessa, she was swooning over Dean’s lasting impression. Now, we fast-forward a year to see what she’s up to.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC Vanessa Martinelli, (eventual) Sam Winchester x OFC Emma Olsen
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, HBO RomCom bullshit, male modelin' sonsabitches, schmoop, "one thing about Dean Winchester is, if a Toddler handed him a toy phone, he'd answer it"
Words in this part: 3K
Author's notes: Follow-up to Plus One.
Thank you, @brrose-apothecary and @stusbunker for the read-throughs and greenlight.
Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Final Part
PART THREE
Her alarm goes off at 8:30 AM. As she blinks her eyes open and draws a deep breath, she acknowledges the unfamiliar signs of a good night’s sleep. She’s rested and ready for a day of bridesmaid duties in a way she’s never been.
Before she can focus on any single point in the dim room, her body instinctively burrows into the warm, solid figure curled around her back.
Dean mumbles behind her, tucking his hips against her and sliding a knee between her thighs. Vanessa’s eyelids flutter, and her breath stutters.
She’s never considered herself a cuddler. She likes her space and doesn’t like being restricted. She finds it hard to sleep soundly with another person in the same bed.
But Dean is different.
“Mornin’,” he mumbles, nuzzling the side of her neck and dragging his lips across one shoulder.
Vanessa clasps a hand over the one palming her belly. “How’d you sleep?” She reluctantly rolls to face him, not wanting to break the bubble of bliss, but loving the reward of his beautiful face.
“Good,” he mutters, rubbing one eye while keeping the other on her. “You snore. But like a cute li’l motor purr. Lulled me right to sleep.”
Vanessa scoffs. “What? No one’s ever told me that.”
Dean chuckles and reaches for her, and her insides flip. “Everybody snores, don't they?”
She gives up being offended or questioning what it means that she was snoring and lets him pull her close. He rolls to his back, dragging her across him, and her knees easily slot on either side of his hips. He gently smooths away the hairs that have escaped the hair tie before arching up to kiss her.
Vanessa doesn’t flinch from morning breath or the sticky heat striping the insides of her thighs. She revels in the feel of him strong and sound under her as his hands trail her shoulders and down her back to trace the seam and curve of her ass until he’s grasping the backs of her thighs.
“Nice and snug,” he whispers against her ear.
Vanessa hums and rests her head in the center of his chest. Her eyes follow the tip of her finger as it outlines his tattoo, and she wonders if he’ll ever tell her how this occultist-looking symbol has anything to do with his family’s private investigation business. She wonders, not for the first time, how he got all his scars.
“What time you gotta be somewhere?” He drags his fingers up over her ass and back down, and his dick twitches hot at her slick opening.
“Eleven. But Emma and I were talking about going down to the gym before we have to be at the salon.”
Dean grunts. “Might wanna check in with her first.”
Vanessa chuckles, pushing up to look him in the eye. “What d’you know?”
He smirks, gripping her hips to grind up against her. “Got up at four for some water, she was making all kindsa noise. Sammy, too.”
“Fucken-A, good for her.” She lets Dean roll her to her back and knee between her thighs, reaching down to guide himself inside her. They both groan and Vanessa lifts her knees to wrap her legs around his hips.
“Fucken-A, right, good for him, too.” Dean swivels his hips before giving her a heavy thrust and dropping his forehead to the pillow beside her head. “I love morning sex.”
“Me, too,” she whispers, nestling against his cheek before he rises up again to set that slow and steady pace she’s dreamed about for the last year without him.
--
“Gotta admit,” Emma pauses for the makeup artist to finish her lips with gloss, mumbling ‘thank you’ before continuing her confession to Vanessa. “I was unconvinced by your claims that Dean Winchester had somehow revolutionized the way you see other men and sex, but...”
She glances around the salon to the other bridesmaids before leaning into Vanessa.
“If he’s anything like his brother, my god.”
Vanessa nods, thanking the woman putting the finishing touches on her own lips, then turns to Emma. “There’s something to be said about the fuck of your life, no lie.”
“No fuckin’ lie.” Emma settles back into her spa chair, reaching for the remote control to activate the massager. “His hands... size is officially a kink for me now. Hands, shoulders, his dick, Vanessa.”
Vanessa laughs out loud, handing her a fresh bottle of water. “Hydrate. And pace yourself. If you recall, I was in a fucking daze for weeks after my last encounter with Dean.”
Emma accepts the bottle with a tilt of her head. She snaps the cap open, studying her friend as she scrolls her phone and waits for the next professional beautifier to start on their pedicures, recalling those weeks with clarity.
She’s known Vanessa since college. They were in a sorority together with Nicole, Katie, and Toni. She and Vanessa went to nursing school after college, and for the last five years, she’s spent every Happy Hour, brunch, and birthday party with her. Vanessa’s always been even-tempered, consistent, and predictable. Emma’s never known her to get hung up on much of anything.
Then, last summer, after one night with Dean, she spent the next six weeks distracted and disorganized. Emma and Katie talked about confronting her, but Nicole and Toni said they should give her space. She finally got back to her old self, but Emma definitely wouldn’t forget those weeks.
“How was your night?” she asks, slightly changing the subject.
“Good.” Vanessa’s head bobs. “Chill, ya know, pacing myself.”
Underneath the 16-hour make-up, Emma can see her cheeks flush with emotion. She doesn’t want to pry, so she takes a sip of water and leaves what Vanessa isn’t saying to filter in the air.
“Good. Chill’s good. Anyway, not to be dramatic, but it’s not just big. OK?”
Vanessa snorts and busts into a fit of giggles, and Emma’s happy to oblige.
“Just big could be a potential disaster. Remember that Croatian I took home from Tao two summers ago? What a dolt. I was sore for a week and not in a good way. But Sam can do anything with that thing. I could just sit and admire it for hours and be in tears.”
Vanessa cackles. “Paint still life art.”
“Still life art!” Emma hollers.
“Jesus Christ, you two are traumatizing the entire city block,” Nicole hisses from across the room.
Emma and Vanessa roll their eyes, and Katie chuckles beside Nicole, patting her arm.
“What’s the matter, Nic, not gettin’ the good dick lately?” Toni mutters from the main chair before wincing painfully. “Ow! Why did I agree to an updo?”
“Because you liked my wedding hair, Tenderhead, but I warned you,” Nicole answers.
Emma snorts, comfortably warmed by the easy camaraderie of her circle of friends. When she glances sideways at Vanessa, the best of the bunch, Vanessa’s staring dreamily at her phone.
“What’s Hottie #1 up to?” Emma asks.
Vanessa squirms a little and bites her lip, and Emma feels that swoon in the depths of her soul.
“They went to DMK for burgers.” She turns the phone to show Emma a picture of Dean, looking like Shaggy Rogers with a double triple-decker sandwich and a mile-wide grin. “Dork.”
Emma chuckles. “Cute and funny on top of looking like that and being a gentleman? Dangerous.”
Vanessa tenses before placing her phone face down on the side table. “He’s pretty great.” She focuses on the nail technician as he takes a seat in front of the foot bath, chewing the inside of her lip with a furrowed brow.
Emma’s quiet for a while. She really doesn’t want to pry, but she also can’t stand to watch her friend deny herself the possibility of something amazing out of fear. Another pedicurist sits at Emma’s feet, and once they’re each into their work, she tries a new tactic.
“Do you remember that guy Nico from freshman year in the dorms? Before we rushed?”
Vanessa turns her furrowed brow to her friend. “I think so. He worked in the fitness center, right?”
Emma nodded. “We went out once.”
“I didn’t know that!”
“Nobody did.” Emma shrugged, looking down at the man quietly trimming her toenails. “I never told anyone.”
“Why not?”
“At the time I thought it was because I was embarrassed that he was so rough or whatever. Like he was all tatted up with that mohawk, but like...” She looks back at her friend and shakes her head. “The way he made me feel scared the shit outta me.”
Vanessa blinks then slides her gaze to the man working on her feet.
“Then I told myself I wasn’t ready, then I met Josh.” She shrugs. “I sound like some old maid tryna distill my wisdom to you, but I’m just calling it like I see it.”
Vanessa sighs and rolls her neck one way then the other. “He’s 10 years older than me, Em. And I don’t even know what he does for a job. We barely know each other.”
“Bullshit. He knows you better than you’re willing to admit. Who cares what the family business is?”
Vanessa arches a brow in her direction.
“Yeah, Sam has the same tattoo. Plus, Van, he’s like 37.”
“How do you know that?”
“I ask questions and can do basic math.”
Vanessa shakes her head, and her phone vibrates again. She picks it up and swipes it open to look at the new image she received. When she shows Emma her phone screen, she’s treated to an image of Sam taking a large bite of kale and chicken salad with Dean’s thumb pointed down in the foreground.
Emma makes a mock pout. “Oh, Sam — the burdens of maintaining that beautiful body.”
Vanessa laughs again as she turns her camera to snap a shot of herself and Emma to send back to Dean.
“What if they’re in the mafia or something?”
“Like we’ve never dated anyone related to the mafia, please.”
Vanessa rolls her eyes. “That’s my point. But I’m kidding, I don’t get that vibe from them, but what’s with all the scars?”
Emma shrugs. “Sam has ‘em, too. I dunno, but have you ever felt so safe with a guy?”
Vanessa shakes her head. “That’s what I mean. I don’t get the possessive tough guy vibe, just... badass. Kind, generous, gorgeous badass.”
“Right. So do you really wanna let him walk away again?”
Vanessa sighs, dropping her head against the backrest before playfully glaring at her friend. “Why can’t you be a bad friend for once?”
“Not in my nature.”
They both laugh.
--
After Vanessa and Emma left the hotel for their spa appointment, Dean couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. He doesn’t know what happened in Vanessa’s past to convince her that he’d reject her so easily, but if things were different for Dean, he’d do the exact opposite and hold her close.
The night they met, she asked him to make a scene, and he did. He wants to do it again, but in a different kind of way because she deserves everything she wants.
“Sammy!” Dean adjusts his tie and pockets his wallet. “Meet ya downstairs; gotta get Baby from valet.”
“Be there in five,” Sam calls from his and Emma’s room.
Dean holsters his Colt inside his waistband at his back. They haven’t seen any trouble since they arrived yesterday, but he isn’t taking any chances. Before he walks out the door, he slides into his suit jacket and settles his shades in place.
He and Sam arrive at the church a respectable 30 minutes before the ceremony, dressed to the nines. They hang around outside with the rest of the guests until the doors are opened. Several guests stare at them, and it makes Sam uncomfortable.
“What’re these people staring at?” He fidgets and tries to make himself smaller.
“We’re a coupla handsome sonsabitches, Sammy. They can’t help themselves.” Dean drags his attention from his phone after checking messages. “Still no news, by the way, so I guess we can relax.”
“Is that why you brought your .45?”
Before Dean can answer his cranky baby brother, the doors to the church open and the guests begin filing inside.
“Can never be too careful, now, shut up and get inside.”
In the foyer of the church, the wedding party is greeting the guests. Dean spots her within a second and stops in his tracks, pulling his sunglasses off to get a better look at her. She’s wearing a full-length, dark brown silk gown. It’s sleeveless with a high neck and a low, open back. She’s laughing, and Dean’s heart picks up its pace.
Emma appears at her side, also in a long silk gown of a different color, and Vanessa scans the crowd. When her eyes land on Dean, they go wide, and her jaw drops. Emma turns to see what Vanessa’s looking at and soon her expression is matching.
Dean impatiently waits for the other guests to get out of his way so he can get his hands on her.
“Wow.” Vanessa shakes her head in awe once Dean is in front of her. “You look—”
“Nah.” Dean hooks an arm around her waist to pull her in for a quick kiss. “I’m just tryna keep up with you.”
Vanessa murmurs, “If I had even five extra minutes, I’d take you to the nearest closet and be on my knees.”
“Mmm, careful, Nessa, I gotta go sit in a church pew for the next 45 to an hour.”
“Break it up.” Emma smirks, looping her arm through Vanessa’s to untangle her from Dean’s arms. “Time to line up, Van.”
Vanessa whines and practically stomps her foot, and Dean chuckles, watching Vanessa and Emma hurry to catch up with the rest of the party.
“Damn,” he mutters as they disappear down the stairs of the church.
“No kidding,” Sam agrees. “Talk about a couple of good-looking people.”
“Did you hear what she said to me?”
“I didn’t. But it couldn’t have been better than what Emma said to me.”
Dean shoots his brother a look of surprise. “Well, look at you, little brother.”
--
“This day has been filled with the longest stretches of time we’ve been still in... ever.”
After the very long, sobering ceremony, Dean and Sam are waiting outside for their dates. It takes longer than they expected, but Dean doesn’t mind the downtime.
“Yeah, I kinda like it.”
“Since when? You rarely even sleep more than four hours a night.”
“I dunno, man, since Amara, maybe? I just... I could get used to this normal shit once in a while is all I’m sayin’.”
Sam puzzles over his brother’s assertion until he spots Emma and Vanessa descending the stairs toward them. He’s taken aback once again by how beautiful Emma is and how she makes him feel normal. That realization is a bit of an a-ha moment for him regarding what Dean just said.
“Hey,” he greets his date with a smile.
“So,” Emma begins, twisting her fingers in the lapels of Sam’s jacket and pulling herself into him. “We can either follow the limo on a bar crawl, or you can take me back to the room right now, and—”
“What a lovely ceremony!” An older lady appears at Vanessa’s side, holding the hand of the flower girl, interrupting Emma’s most certainly obscene proposition. “Wasn’t that lovely?”
“Silvia, how are you?” Vanessa greets the woman and then crouches down to address the little girl. “Oh, my goodness, Ari, you did such a good job with the flowers! How old are you now?”
“Four,” the little girl answers, awkwardly showing Vanessa four little fingers before peeking up at the man behind Vanessa. “Who’s that?”
“Oh, umm,” Vanessa follows Ari’s line of sight to see Dean squatting down beside her.
“Hi, Ari. I’m Dean.” He extends his open hand to her as an introduction, and Ari drops her plump little fist into his palm. Dean smiles, gently curling his hand around hers to shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hi,” she says, blushing and twirling where she stands, and holding onto his hand. “Do you like my dress?”
Dean fixes his expression with affected surprise. “‘Course, I do! It’s bright and beautiful, just like you.”
Vanessa is captivated by the ease with which he interacts with a preschooler. Just like the night before after her slip-up with Toni’s mom, he takes it all in stride.
“What do you say, Ari?” Silvia asks.
“Thank you,” the little girl mumbles before turning and hiding in her grandmother’s skirt.
Dean chuckles, and he and Vanessa rise to stand. He wraps an arm around her waist as Silvia explains the reason she has Ari to herself is because her son had to work unexpectedly.
“So, no Daddy-daughter practice dance for Ari tonight. Well, we better get going, Ari. We need to get you something to eat. We’ll see you all at the reception, huh?”
Silvia says her goodbyes and walks away.
“Where’s her mom?” he asks, watching the woman and her granddaughter cross the street to the parking lot.
“She left right after Ari was born. No one’s seen her since.”
Dean winces. “Poor kid.”
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Nicole sighs as she saunters toward them, looking anything but contrite. “Antonia wants the entire wedding party to be on this pub crawl, so no hotel room quickie or whatever you had planned during the cocktail hour.”
She somehow succeeds in side-eying Vanessa, Dean, Emma, and Sam all at the same time.
“Of course, that doesn’t preclude any of you from hand jobs in the Batmobile.”
She rolls her eyes and chuckles as she turns on her heel to the limo where Zach is waiting for her. He waves over her head at the four of them and calls out.
“We’ll wait for ya to pull around behind us and follow!”
Dean nods back before sliding his shades on. “Alright, kids, let’s hit it.”
He offers his elbow to Vanessa, and Sam does the same for Emma before they follow in Silvia’s footsteps to the parking lot.
Final Part
Series master list | Dean Winchester Masterlist | SPN Masterlist | All Fic Masterlist
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Hector lands on the final platform with a grunt and looks towards Balthazar and the woman caged in front of him.
The woman is pale as a ghost, even to her hair and her eyes. Her face is heavily scarred and her clothes ragged and torn. She glances at Hector with disinterest, but her gaze, and her ire, is primarily reserved for Balthazar, who is standing before her with a look of casual cruelty.
"Balthazar," the woman snaps. "Come to add more bars to my cage. Or perhaps to lead this would-be Justiciar's blade directly to my heart?"
She gestures, indicating Hector, and he flinches away from the assertion. Shadowheart is the one here to become a Justiciar; to be considered the petitioner himself is anathema. (And indeed, out of the corner of his eye, he can see Shadowheart surging forward to claim her rightful reward - but he puts an arm out across her chest, blocking her. They cannot speak yet; there is more to be heard.)
The woman's eyes flash back to Balthazar, and she lunges in his direction against the edge of the sigil holding her - and pale green spectral hands grasp at her, pulling her back, holding her still.
"I invite you," she snarls. "Heap more sins upon your head. My retribution will be all the sweeter for them."
Balthazar smiles coolly, unfazed by her impotent rage. "All this time," he murmurs, "and you still fail to appreciate the gifts I bestowed on you, Aylin. Sad, to see a thing of beauty not recognize its own worth." He circles the edge of the sigil, eyeing her like a particularly fascinating caged beast. "But General Thorm... *he* appreciates you. And he wants you close at hand, so I am here to whisk you back to him."
The Nightsong - Aylin? - struggles against her bonds, and the snarl on her face turns sardonic. "Ketheric. I welcome the sight of him, after these hundred years - he whose immortality I supply with my very soul."
Hector goes very still. His eyes flick sideways to Shadowheart and he sees that she has registered the meaning of these words as well. There is so much more at work here than the Justiciar trial, something that ties to the heart of everything they are struggling against.
This woman cannot be allowed to return to Thorm - at any cost.
Balthazar's smile loses some of its cool humor. "*General* Thorm," he repeats icily. "I'm sure you'll be on your best behavior for him, but just in case, I've taken some precautions."
He turns casually to Hector, seemingly unaware of the monk's distaste for the entire situation. "Keep back. It will take quite some concentration to secure Aylin for her little journey."
Hector draws a slow breath, trying to calm the racing of his mind enough to think, to decide on a plan. "Wait," he says, stalling for time. "The Nightsong is a person?"
Balthazar laughs.
"Person? Please. You insult her. You insult *me*. Aylin is so much more than that. She is an aasimar, bound to a soulcage of my creation and lending her immortal strength to General Thorm. Her power, his will, and my genius - an unsurpassable feat."
Hector feels a chill go through him. An aasimar - one touched by celestial blood, beyond human - trapped in this place for the century that Thorm has been immortal, mocked by this blasphemous cruelty for decades...
"Ramblings most unsane," Aylin sneers, uncowed even after such torment. "Poor Balthazar, for maggots ate his brain long ago."
"Hold your tongue, Aylin," Balthazar snaps coldly. "Or I'll take it away from you again." He turns to look at Hector, and the veneer of calm authority begins to slip in favor of irritation. "And you - no more questions. No more interference."
Hector flicks his eyes to his companions; all of them have shoulders set, eyes narrowed. He knows they all see the truth of the situation as clearly as he does. This can't be allowed to happen. And there is no way Balthazar will be dissuaded from his plans with anything other than violence.
Subtly he shifts his weight onto the balls of his feet, into the steady central stance ready to leap in any direction. Hidden by his crossed arms, his hands clench into fists.
"If she's the reason Ketheric Thorm is invulnerable," he says, voice steady and hard as steel, "you're not taking her. Leave, or you're a dead man."
Balthazar turns slowly towards him, and any pretense of pleasantry vanishes from him. His eyes are black coal flared with embers.
"Dead man," he murmurs. "You haven't been paying attention, have you? Perhaps I'll revive your carcass and add you to my retinue. Then you'll have all the time in the world to think on your mistakes!"
With astonishing speed for his bulk, he darts backwards, flaring with necromantic magic, and all around them, the strewn forms of the dead begin to rise.
Oh boy.
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Alright, some of this is hitting me in a way that neither of us could have expected. I talked with you earlier about Entrapta's background story hitting me hard with some things I've been through...
Okay, now you've got discussion between Catra and Glimmer about Angella's demise, which neither of them actually expected. Little aggravations at a loved one, little memories and deseprately wanting them back. Glimmer chooses to believe that it was a sacrifice on her mother's part in order to hold it together.
*Sigh* - this is very personal. I just lost a loved one, a very close family member also best-friend, a person I had a unique geeky bond with and it's the kind of bond I'll never have again. He was the third member of my tiny little found family and we had him up for holidays and that's never happening again. We learned of his death yesterday and I've just been going through Hell. He was young and it was sudden - he had some health issues, but it was still unexpected. It wasn't a heroic sacrifice, but there are things I need to believe about it to hold myself together. I'm flashing back to Entrapta's seeing a tear in space-time to know what's on the other side. I remember what canon did and what you're looking forward to doing to a cruel fundamentalist version of a god while I'm flashing back to some of my old religious trauma hard right now - as in, I'm really, really hoping the fundies / evangelical circles I used to be a part of aren't right and have been outright Hordak-style *threatening* God to do the right thing by my loved one, possibly sealing my fate if there is a Hell and being glad of it.
This portion of the script is coming at the "right?" time for me? Wrong time? I am hoping I can find some catharsis in it? Anyway, I do apologize for any reblogs I do in the near future in which I blubber all over your posts. I'm holding steady, but it's probably going to happen sooner or later.
_freedfromthegalactichivemind
@freedfromthegalactichivemind Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry for your loss.
I would always say that looking after yourself is the most important thing, and if any of my posts do bring up stuff that makes it more difficult for you, please do take a break. I'm the worst person for "deal with stuff by totally immersing yourself in it", and that doesn't always work, so do take it slow and be kind to you. This goes for everyone, too.
There's a few things that I have taken to quite a raw level in these last two seasons and I've come out of the comfort of non-stop silliness in order to have a more meaningful impact on people. But I don't do it to hurt, these stories will ultimately become ones of comfort and power. I've expanded on Prime's zealotry to be a more bare-faced depiction of the anti-LGBT rhetoric that we're seeing worringly often in real life and how weathering it seems insurmountable - but he will be defeated by people who stand fast and remain true to who they are, people who will never ever let those like him win. I've also leaned in pretty hard to Catra's fragile mental health, not because having her talking about how she wants to kill herself is shocking and spices up the story, but because I want to have her reach that lowest point multiple times and still fight for a life that she wants to live. I've been there, as I'm sure many people reading this have - it's messy, but it is not the end.
So yeah, I make the choice to invoke difficult things that might hit some of you quite hard, but I do it with the love and intention to show that perseverance through adversity is one of the hardest, most rewarding things any of us can do. (Also, I know some of this can get quite personal, you're welcome to blubber at me through DMs if you prefer).
We're gonna win in the end.
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*INBOX CLEARING. 📨
➤ @myristicisms [ ; ] [ COAX ] the dominant partner gently moving the shy or overwhelmed submissive’s hands from covering their face so they can kiss them, breathing praises against their skin. ;; trevorcard
𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓, 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐒, 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐈𝐑, 𝐑𝐇𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐒. It's honest, genuine, more fond than truly meant to mock. For such a proud, inscrutible man at times, the Dhampir was surprisingly shy when it came to more intimate matters — something that both fascinated Trevor & echoed at his sympathy. In a way, he understood enough to not bring too much attention to how lost the other man seemed.
As curious as Trevor was, he'd never pry or push. Not unless he chose to bring it up himself.
For now? While he was allowed the chance to lavish loving touches freely, without the press of violence, the usual heat of irritated affection flaring beneath his surface like the sun, he takes his time in working the other beneath his hands. Treating him like a tightly knit craft, a work of art to be unraveled through touch by delicate touch. He's careful, moving slow, keeping his eyes on the vampire's face, watching for any dissatisfied twitch, a flicker in his expression to let the Belmont know just when to stop or what to do more of.
Kisses are gently trailed down the column of his throat until he reaches his collarbone, the barest tease of a suckle here or there, the mapping out of each mysterious scar, the slightest, playful nip of teeth followed by an apologetic lave of his tongue when watercolour hues begin to flourish. Normally so impatient, he finds a surprising amount of pleasure in taking things as slow for a change, eagerly taking in each honest twitch the other gives, every shudder & quiver with controlled glee. The way Alucard's fingers drag themselves through his hair in reward for a particular show of attention that's approved of. Trevor could get used to this, he hums, leaning into the touch with a pleased rumble. He eventually lowers enough to be level with his chest, wetting at his lips as he dips down, mouthing gently along pale skin, lips tilted in a cheshire smile.
Careful. Always careful when things have escalated to the point they had. He treats Adrian like a precious gem, one bearing the risk of shattering between his fingers should they clutch too hard. They move, one coming to curl around his length, his other forearm resting at their side, keeping him propped comfortably. Starting up a teasing pace, one that's steady in no such rush, Trevor drags his teeth just along the edge of the other's chest, pausing to kiss at the edge of a large scar, spotting at twin moon gold lock onto his own with a stuttering inhale.
He flashes him a cheeky grin, the peek of his teeth gladly given before he wets at his lips. The reaction he garners is as expected — a widening of his eyes, nose flaring as pale, pale skin seems to flush a telling, warm petal tone. Beautiful — but just as short lived as a flowers life-span, as he goes to quickly sling an arm over his face with a curse. The amused Hunter clicks his tongue, studying him, halting his pace for a moment as he wonders whether to stop things outright or continue. There's a frustrated hiss heard as he does, igniting a spark of laughter, quietly gifted as he caves & continues.
Only dragging a finger from root to tip, loosely holding his hand around the other's length before he smooths the pad of his finger over his pearling head. Lifting himself higher, the bed dips as he shifts, switching arms with a hushed coo of the other's name.
It's a low sound, urging in a rare, gentle manner, something audibly happy curled all through out it as Trevor smiles. Cupping his other hand along Adrian's jaw, he doesn't pry, simply urges through moths wing soft tracing, his thumb caressing the sharpened line of his jaw in long strokes. It doesn't seem to work, the other's stubborn ignorance of it being spotted through the way his lips purse, not a single more movement given outside of it. Trevor snorts, craning his face in to the ear closest, another playful hum reverberating.
Praises fall from his lips, balanced carefully on the edge of his tongue, whispered like a reverent prayer against the shell of the other's ear. It's worth the control he clings to to watch as the skin on the other's forearm bristles in goosebumps, to watch as his skin blooms in pink — feeling the huffed exhale between each of his words. He continues, ever shameless with his words as he mutters about how gorgeous the other is, how strong — just how perfect he is in how well he's been behaving for him, punctuating it with a lingering kiss at his jaws end.
For all his coaxing efforts, the glacial pacing is well worth it to watch how beautifully he comes undone. For this, he had all the patience in the world.
#╰┈➤ ┊❛ ANSWERED IC. ❜┊#╰┈➤ ┊❛ INTERACTIONS. ❜┊#myristicisms#MUSE: [ TREVOR BELMONT. ]#╰┈➤ ┊❛ SUGGESTIVE ❜┊#❝ When the words weigh heavy on the heart. Lost & led only by the stars. ❞ . [ MYRISTICISMS ]#Like a cry at the final breath that is drawn. As a shrike to your sharp & glorious thorn. [ ; ] TREVOR / ALUCARD ➤〔 MYRISTICISMS 〕
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CHARACTER INFORMATION
face claim: Chris Evans
full name: Thomas Elijah Browning
nickname(s) / goes by: Tommy, T
pronouns & gender: he/him/his cis man
sexuality: pansexual
birth date: june, 13, 1981
birth place: merrock, maine
arrival to merrock: since birth (previously left for months at a time for work)
housing: converted warehouse downtown
occupation: overseas seasonal miner, currently unemployed (seeking employment)
work place: TBA
family: cordelia browning (sister) and rosalyn browning (niece), ex-wife (tba)
relationship status: single
filling connection: cordelia’s older brother connection
PERSONALITY
+ Loyal, creative, reliable, immovable
- Closeted, private, hot headed, escapist
Tommy finds he is most himself alone, or when things are slowed down, the expectations are low, and it's more about being genuine with a person than putting on a show. Joking is easier than therapy, keeping things light with people is easier than being honest. He isn't one for drama, has seen plenty of his own in the past, so he often sits back whenever he can. Don't mistaken this escapism as passiveness - he is not afraid to place himself between those he cares for and the cruelty of the world. Contridicting his well trained charisma, Tommy has lived most of his life with fear as his best friend. Being himself openly, sharing the passions he has, had always been shamed growing up. It is hard for him even now to open those doors to people. On his darker days he can bubble into something full of pain and anger, many of his decades old wounds still too tender to claim they were healed. Often he thinks he's lost his heart, that his chest is empty after all this time, but he fails to notice how it's pinned to his sleeve, touching everyone he holds on to.
WRITTEN BY: Jen (she/her), acst.
BACKGROUND / BIO
triggering / sensitive content: tw: alcoholism, abandonment, depression, homophobia
The eldest sibling of the Browning ensemble, Tommy now fights for the crown of greatest disappointment to his parents. Much like his baby sister he finds himself on the outside of a ‘family’ home, looking at its foundation full of cracks. Raised in Merrock, he had once been considered somebody but now he’s just happy to be himself.
See, being the first born of a family who wanted the world to think they lived a perfect life came with a whole lot of expectations. He didn’t realise them as a child but by the time he was a teenager they were laid out before him, with the end goal to keep the family image in play. He was a Browning after all. Their name was supposed to mean something, come with a list of benefits. Yet, where they claimed they had money they were dodging bills, where they had connections they were crossing their fingers and wishing on stars.
Tommy's relationship with his father seems like it had been straining ever since his voice deepened and he realised he could think for himself. Maybe some of it was being a teenager - acting out, rebelling - but it became more obvious with time his father expected more than what Tommy could give. Perfect grades, perfect girlfriends, perfect social circles and interests. The world nearly burned down when Tommy was caught with a boy he’d been curious over followed by the cold chill of denial, of unacceptance. They were to never speak of the forbidden; Tommy had a path to stay on and he would be forced along it whether he was happy about it or not.
College came at a cost, both financially and mentally. Whilst he’d developed an interest in art his parents had cut that out of him and demanded he follow a line of success they strived for: law. It would reward him with status, with money, with respect. Three things they clung to but never really owned. Tommy felt as if he had no choice, so in the end he did as he was told.
During his twenties he had a steady career in law, moving up through the fields as he would. He fell in love with a woman who made his parents happy; they married too soon after his parents insisted it was tradition in their family line. He hears so often that twenties are supposed to be where you discover yourself, make mistakes, but instead he lost himself entirely. To a marriage taken on too soon to have a good foundation, to a career that stole his time and his passion, to a family who expected more and more when he had already given his everything. In the end he found his solitude in a bottle or two, using it to numb the growing pain of despair and regret inside of him.
His marriage came to an end by the time he was 30, his parents disgusted he’d ever allow such a stain on their image. It felt like a breaking point to not even have support from his family when his own has ceased to exist. He was so very tired of playing the role of son and husband, having no idea who he was on his own. Eventually he snapped: he ended his law career, fought day and night with disgust over his parents views of the world, and started doing things differently. He didn’t care how he looked when he took a job as a carpenter, or when he trained to do electrical work. He picked up night shifts at bars or helped out businesses around town with deliveries. Whatever paid his bills. He found the jobs where he got to use his hands the most rewarding, and he enjoyed the socialising he found in others.
By 35 he was divorced, removed from his family unit (though still talking with his siblings) and fluttering from one job to another whenever change felt necessary. He came across an opportunity to see a new part of the world - a remote mining job contract where he would be fully trained and supported overseas. It would pay him more than his odd jobs and only take up three months of the year. He decided to give it a go, running away for a little while. It was hard work - messier than anything he’d ever done, long hours, the living conditions were horrible, and yet he kept coming back each year. It was an escape of sorts - from the man he was told to be, from everyone’s thoughts of who he is now. For three months of the year he could be a wild animal, messy and crude. He would drink and play cards with the boys, swear like he was born a sailor, and no one would look twice at him. When he got home he had money to live off but would go back to his odd jobs to find money to play with. He invested some of it into a warehouse he was converting into his home, and some went into his old hobbies he’d left behind because someone else decided he didn’t need them. It allowed him to live, so he happily sweated through the hard work.
When his baby sister Cordelia fell pregnant to a married man he was disappointed in choices of men but not in who she was. It was bewildering to find his parents and siblings discarding her over it, reminding him all too much of the way they cut him off any time he strayed from their path. To them this was a wild scandal - and for others around town too. For Tommy this was his little sister needing help and he wasn’t going to turn his back on her, he never would. Tommy grew furious at his family for the way they treated her - he had accepted it for so long being targeted at him but to watch Cordelia have the same treatment left him losing all hope in the remaining Brownings. In the end it was them against the world - Tommy stayed home the year Cordelia was pregnant and the following when baby Roselyn was given as a gift to the world. He adores his niece and sister, and is very protective more now than ever after what she had been through.
Tommy has just returned from Australia, tired and tan. He hasn’t told anyone yet but this was his last time in the mining field, feeling as if the last two years has shown him there is more to life here in Merrock and that maybe, just maybe, he was getting a little old for running away.
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illume
Hazbin Hotel
Vox/OC
includes: soft & safe vore, implied masturbation, glowing insides, unaware prey.
twitter link
a/n: just a little something for myself.
---
To come back from unconsciousness and be met with even more darkness is a strange thing.
Moth’s head feels as though it’s spinning as he tries to get a better look at his surroundings, bleary eyes still attempting to adjust to this new dark he’s found himself in. Instinctively, he also starts to feel around himself, and all four hands slide over slick, soft walls. At the same time, he gives a tentative push with his feet, and he realizes he’s all but caught in a loose fetal position.
His wings, trapped between his back and the slick-covered wall behind him, are sodden and heavy. Even if he found more room to move, they would be useless in their current state.
His confines shift just ever so slightly, and Moth, startled, goes still for a moment. He finds himself waiting, braced for something he can’t be sure of, and listening.
There are soft and steady, rhythmic sounds coming from somewhere close by. Above and behind, if he had to guess. The more he focuses on the sounds, the more he realizes with a rising sense of panic what they sound like.
Breathing, and a heartbeat.
A sense of panic starts to rise in him, slick-soaked wings fluttering nervously against his back. All four hands go back to fondling and sliding over the walls of his confines, searching for purchase or any sort of sign to disprove his sudden suspicions of where he is.
His fussing rewards him only with a low groan from his captor, and the stomach he’s trapped in. There’s more movement all around him, followed by the slightest squeeze and push from the outside. He whimpers and does his best to withdraw from the touch, though the efforts are fruitless.
“I was wondering when you’d wake up,” his captor says and all at once, Moth goes still again. He recognizes Vox’s voice, and it sets his nerves at ease just slightly. The fear that had begun to roil deep in his own guts gives way to embarrassment, and perhaps a little bit of aggravation.
“Asshole,” Moth replies quietly, gradually resigning himself to Vox’s mercy. He doesn’t bother asking why Vox decided to eat him, and knows better than to try and bargain his way out. Vox will let him out when he’s good and ready, after he’s had his fill and his fun.
Vox chuckles, low and deep and the sound is all-encompassing. A slow and deliberate caress can be felt at Moth’s back, and he allows himself to imagine Vox reclined, rubbing over his belly, pleasantly full and just slightly swollen. A surge of warmth shoots down his spine and settles between his thighs at the thought.
The caress stops and becomes more of a pressure, and Moth imagines Vox’s whole hand laid out and pressed against his belly, feeling for him. There’s some more movement, though this time Moth realizes it’s purposeful coming from below him. He imagines Vox’s free hand going for his fly, his hips rolling. And maybe he’s not too far off the mark, considering the way the walls all around him begin to glow. Total darkness gives way to a dull, undulating blue, and Vox groans a command.
“Squirm.”
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heyo!! I'm not sure if you've already answered this because I don't have Tumblr and I keep getting blocked by the log in wall whenever I scroll too far. But why did you delete your old AO3 account and works? Where you getting bullied 😰 I know the jonsa ship and Sansa specifically is well hated...
Hey, anon. I haven't answered that before, so I'll give it a go now. I think it's neat that you're interested.
I haven't had any issues with bullying apart from a few random comments on AO3 that were less about Jonsa and more about my writing choices. Whoops. I tagged that fic as a fix but still let Rickon die? My bad. I didn't realize I was supposed to anticipate the preferences of that one specific reader and not do that. *eye roll*
That's just one example, but despite my snarkiness about it right now that kind of stuff doesn't actually bother me too much. It is what it is.
So anyway. I deleted my old account more because I wasn't satisfied with my work, wasn't finding fulfillment in writing as a hobby anymore, realized I cared more than I wanted to about kudos and comments -- yeah, that kind of stuff.
But mostly I felt a lot of self-inflected pressure to post updates quickly. And so my speed became too much a measure of my sense of self-worth. Lame.
I took a break for a while, but I'm back to writing now with a healthier mindset. (Though, let's be honest, I still want those damn kudos!) If you don't already know, my new AO3 name is GreenHikingBoots. Since I write for both Jonsa and Dramione, I wanted a name that wasn't fandom specific. And I like the color green and I do a lot of hiking IRL. So there you go.
Oh, I should probably clarify that everything I have published under that new name, apart from my current Jonsa WIP called Inevitable, was previously published on my old account (though edits have been made). Most of that is Dramione, though. Also, that isn't to say every old fic has been re-published.
Two of my more popular works -- For Better Dreams (Jonsa) and Between the Lines (Dramione) -- are still in my Google Doc and will hopefully get re-published in the future. I'm working my way through shorter fic ideas first.
For what it's worth, compared to how I used to do it, I now have firmer plot plans and more detailed first drafts before I start publishing. And I give more author's notes warning that updates may take a while. And those factors go a long way in helping me maintain this hobby in an enjoyable way.
Basically, these days, I'm into slow and steady wins the race.
Oh, come to think of it! Here's another thing I should have said sooner: major shout out to the Jonsa fanfic writers who take their sweet time publishing updates and the readers who are understanding of that. I didn't see that as much in the Dramione fandom, but I think seeing it here helped relieve a lot of my anxieties.
I think that's about all I got on the topic. I'm not going to say TL;DR. But a summation? I'll try. Here goes:
Fandom and fanfiction writing is supposed to be fun, not feel like work! I took some time away because I hadn't internalized that. I've since developed some better habits and saw some good examples of people who had internized the message, and that helped. Now I'm back and enjoying writing more than before. Yay!
Thanks anon. This turned into a really rewarding thing to write about. Hope you don't mind me getting all philosophical. ;)
#ask northernlady#who is also greenhikingboots#and was dakotadelcour if you're a dramione fan#not an identity crisis#just like jonsa to much to stop using this tumblr#and start using my greenhikingboots one#which was the plan at one point
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*whips* chapter two didnt need too much editing, but it was edited nonetheless!
Title: the alliance
Characters: Luigi, Dimentio, O'chunks, Mimi, Nastasia
Chapter: 2 (more to come) (chapter one here)
Summary: Dimentio goes to get a midnight snack, Luigi learns something scary and freaks out.
••••••
PLAYER SELECT: PLAYER TWO - DIMENTIO
TWO WEEKS
You have won the battle, if you can even call it that.
Under the light of the moon, you kneel in front of the poor creature you had attacked; an innocent star sprite, dazed on the ground. You had injured it by simply whacking it with a branch as hard as you could.
Admittedly it was pretty funny. Like hitting an unlucky baseball in a game of fate. Fortunately it didn’t soar very far; you had chased it into a secluded forest, away from prying eyes, before finishing the job by whacking the snot out of it.
You outstretch your hand and grab the creature by the foot, lifting it up to your face. Awfully heavy little thing. Should be more than good enough.
You lightly lick your lips in anticipation, and pull up your mask.
You hear an unusual click as the bones in your jaw lengthen and unhinge. The chaos heart’s magic lets you manipulate your body in truly awful ways. Youve done this before, but it still gives you shivers. The heart grows cold in anticipation for more cosmic energy as you psyche yourself up.
In a grotesque, monster-like fashion, you easily slide the sprite past your unhinged jaws and into your throat for the chaos heart to do whatever it pleases to it. In a fashion similar to a black hole, the sprite is suddenly dragged down with absolutely no hindrance. You didn’t even swallow. It was just gone in less than a second.
A chill runs through you.
You only do this on occasion. About three times in the past two weeks. Too many in a row would be telling. On the nights that you do treat yourself and the heart like this…it feels like you’ve taken a step in the right direction. The heart is more willing to sit patiently if it knows the longer it waits, the better the reward will be. You’ve formed a wordless alliance with the heart in this way, and thankfully this means it has stopped boring into your side and keeping you awake for hours with agonizing pain.
On these hunting nights, you have to wear a blindfold and earplugs. If not, your body behaves strangely. You are subject to sudden thrashing and convulsions, along with an uncomfortable panicked state. You can navigate just fine without either sense- you can identify the imprints in space and time from every physical thing around you. You practically echolocate. Its a mystifying ability that the chaos heart gifted to you upon your transformation. The biggest problem, however, cannot be avoided.
You keel over slightly as you feel bile rise in your throat. You swallow it back down, irritated. Its like your body can tell when you’re doing these awful deeds and rejects them outright. The blindfold and earplugs do a decent job of keeping you calm and collected, but as soon as you can feel those sprites in your mouth, its a nightmare. You’d be fine with cutting up a sprite if it meant avoiding this, but unfortunately dead star sprites return to stardust immediately. A shame.
You clasp your hand over your mouth as you gag again. This kind of behavior really doesn’t suit a sophisticated individual such as yourself.
For the most part, you’ve been gathering sustenance for the chaos heart by other means- mainly normal power stars. They aren’t exactly appetizing, though…they taste metallic, and don’t sit well in your stomach. Pretty hard to discretely nab, too. Another alternative is ghosts and other spirits, but you think if you swallow one more boo this month, the king of them is going to come banging down your door to kill you.
Just a hunch, but a chance you arent eager to take.
You take slow breaths to try to calm your nerves. It seems impossible to keep your pulse steady lately.
“LAD WERE’VE YAE GONE OFF TEH?”
Your breath hitches in surprise as you catch wind of a familiar voice- one so loud you can hear it through your earplugs. You remove the plugs and pull away the blindfold that covered the eyeholes of your mask.
You cant call out to the man yelling for you- your throat is in shambles. But you can knock a few times on a nearby tree to alert him.
"THAT YOU?"
O'Chunks comes through the brush and you give him a slight, unamused wave. He seems a little bothered, but still smiles lightly.
“Yae gotta stop wand'rin off like that, lad. Yer awf'ly far from tae gard'n. Thought yae were jus’ goin’ fer a short walk? Had me worried.”
He offers you a hand, and you place yours in his. It kind of shocks you how gently he carries your palm.
Hes never done this kind of thing before- checking in on your well being, that is.
You were pretty worried at first that your old menagerie of ‘friends’ were going to pummel you the second they saw you. You know, the backstabber? The traitor? The fool? …They’ve all been surprisingly mild-mannered. You’ve been completely unable to speak from the damage done to your throat, but you’ve conveyed a few ideas via writing- most importantly the concept of redirecting the chaos heart’s violence. You havent attempted an apology just yet.
Nastasia has been the most help thus far, navigating where power stars may be located to sate the chaos heart’s monstrous appetite. You really do owe her for that, especially since you tried to kill her so recently.
Mimi has been keeping a constant eye on you, practically babysitting you at any given time, keeping you captive in a small home she 'borrowed’ from some unlucky fellow. Normally you’d find annoyance in this, but for some reason, seeing her face brings you a distant feeling of comfort.
Unusual.
O'chunks sometimes arrives to carry you to and fro, as well as help you nab said power stars from any individual who may be guarding them… you haven’t told him about the star sprites yet. Despite his appearance, hes a surprisingly kind-hearted soul. He may not support your nighttime attacks.
Everyone is so… kind. You don’t know if a mass case of amnesia swept over everyone, but they’re all patient towards you. They werent even like this in their earliest years of working with Bleck. This sincerity, it feels…nice.
Your heart is warm.
You don’t know why they keep calling you 'Ell’. Maybe that was a side effect of the amnesia. Its not like you can correct them just yet anyway.
PLAYER SELECT: PLAYER ONE - LUIGI
TWO WEEKS
You walk while holding O'Chunks’ hand. You feel horrible. You don’t know whats wrong with you, but every so often some kind of force drives you to go outside- to find innocent and tiny creatures of power- and to just-
You grab onto O'chunks’ arm suddenly and shudder. He pauses, looking you up and down with a worried expression. He bends down on one knee, and with a startlingly soft voice asks you if you need 'tae sit down.’
You shake your head no. You dont want to be a bother. Youve already done enough harm by sleepwalking(?) out here again.
You’ve been trying not to blame yourself for these things- its got to be the chaos heart manipulating you, or something. You don’t know what else it could be. The only bright side to these incidents is that after they’re over, your stomach doesn’t hurt at all- it just feels cold.
O'Chunks seems slightly bothered with the silence, and after long enough decides to speak up.
“Er…yae know, Nastasia wan’s tae speak abou’ somethin’ with yae.”
You look up at him, trying not to come off as *completely* miserable.
Apparently hes not buying it.
“We’ve.... been hidin’ stuff from yae, don’ wanna put yae into a bad place.”
You give him a questioning look through your mask. You’ve BEEN in a bad place for two weeks now. Ever since you came to your senses in that broken castle, ever since Dimentio.... used you.
“…We jus’ think yae should know. I cann’ do it alone.”
He squeezes your hand very lightly.
“…jus’ hope it doesn’ put yae in as bad of a state as yae were in tha’ cas'le.”
…you feel unsettled that whatever information he could offer to you would be that bad.
PLAYER SELECT: PLAYER TWO - DIMENTIO
TWO WEEKS
Youre having a panic attack. Its not even yours.
Your conference with Nastasia went…pretty poorly, to say the least.
She broke the news with her usual, unsympathetic way of speaking. The grand finale, the spell you had used in your final battle with mario, wasnt fading. Your form and Luigi's were still one, fused with your own dark magic and the chaos heart's unbridled power.
Your unwilling hand grabs tightly onto O'Chunk’s shirt as a part of you makes haste to form words you don’t even want to say.
"Gh- get..."
You cough. Its painful. You can taste the blood from wounds in your throat
“Get him- o-out-”
Your heart is going a million miles an hour. You feel like you’re damn well about to have a stroke. Why is this buffoon speaking, of all things?
Nastasia adjusts her glasses.
“We cant. If you let me finish my sentence-”
You go into a sudden coughing fit, painting the inside of your mask with red. You should not be talking by any means, yet your mouth still moves, unwisely.
Mimi quickly scampers over to you, putting a hand on your leg in sympathy before whipping her head at a sharp 90° angle to scowl at Nastasia.
“I knew they needed more time! But you didn’t listen, Nass!”
You fall to your knees, breathing heavily. Your mask slips off. You move your hand to pick it up, but a an agonizing scream escapes you before your fingers can wrap around it.
“DH- DON’T MOVE ME!!”
The pain in your throat is horrible. Your vision is getting hazy from how disoriented you are. You’re losing focus.
You had suspected this. You didn’t need Nastasia to tell you. Apparently Luigi did, though. The man is as dense as a plank of wood that was raised by a family of hillbilly rocks. Its blatantly obvious in hindsight- moving against your own volition, Luigi missing, people being strangely nice to you… you kind of put the pieces together, thought 'well I’ve had worse done to me, and this may not even be true’ and put that thought on the back-burner to cope with later.
You put a lot of thoughts on the back-burner to cope with later. The metaphorical back-burner is pretty cluttered. Some thought-pots and concept-pans look like they might fall over at any second, but you keep that copper-ware well balanced in a precarious Jenga tower of undealt with emotions. Surely this is perfectly healthy and nothing bad could come of it.
Where were you? ....oh yes, you were about to faint.
You grab your chest and keel so your forehead is touching the floor. Your vision is fading to black from how quickly you are breathing.
You close your eyes as you take a slow breath in-
-and a deep exhale out.
You remain in a little panic-ball as you practice breathing. You’re shaking terribly against your will.
Ugh. This is humiliating.
You simply dont cry. Luigi has you right on the precipice of the action and needless to say you are not a fan of the development.
A large hand strokes your back. O'Chunks.
“…I'tl be ok, lad. We won’ let anythin’ happen to yae.”
Words for Luigi.
Well. That explains the kindness they were showing you before.
You were finding a bit of joy in it, admittedly. It felt like you were all a crew again.
That sympathy was only for Luigi, then.
Well. That’ll go on the back-burner too.
#writing#dimentio#luigi#mimi spm#o'chunks spm#dimentio spm#nastasia spm#alliance au#super paper mario
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Business Ideas For Passive Income
1. Dividend Stocks
Dividend stocks are a tried and true way to make money without doing anything. To get big dividend checks, you will need to do a lot of research to find good stocks and invest a lot of money. But if you put money into dividend stocks over and over again, you can build up a nice stream of income over time.
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This is great if you want to buy dividend stocks because it lets you build a portfolio of, say, 30 stocks. Then, every time you deposit, your investments will be automatically spread across your whole portfolio—for free. You can even auto-rebalance. Then, you can put your dividends back into the stock. It's a great platform that was made for this purpose. M1 Finance was also mentioned as one of the best places to invest in 2022.
You May Also Like: 13+ Best Business Ideas For Passive Income
2. Rental homes with one family
A rental property that brings in monthly money is a great way to make money. You can hire a management company to run the properties if you want this to be passive.
But the Internet has made it easier to put money into rental properties. Depending on your goals and interests, there are many ways to invest in rental properties. You can be a limited partner in large residential or commercial properties, or you can buy homes and be a landlord. All of this can be done online.
3. Larger Real Estate Developments
You don't want to be a landlord, but you still want to learn about real estate and make money. Then think about becoming a limited partner in a big project. With these choices, you can invest in properties with more than one unit or in businesses. You get the same income and tax benefits as if you owned the property, but you don't have to do any work.
RealtyMogul is our favorite platform for this because you can invest as little as $1,000 and you can also take part in REITs and private placements, which are usually not open to the public. Investors can put money into real estate loans to get passive income or buy a piece of property to see if it goes up in value. Both accredited and non-accredited investors can use their platform.
Also Read: 13+ Ultimate Business Ideas For Teenagers For 2023: You Must Know
4. Put money into farmland
Farmland could be more attractive, but as an investment property, it has a lot going for it. It's slow, steady, always pays rent, and everyone needs to eat. Plus, it is much less risky than other types of real estate. You can invest in farmland through two big companies. AcreTrader and FarmTogether.
You can watch the AcreTrader review video on YouTube. We just did a behind-the-scenes review of our own AcreTrader investment.
Read More: Best 10 + Food Delivery Business Ideas In 2023
5. Savings accounts with high-interest rates and money market funds
If you don't want to think too much about your money but still want it to work for you, a high-yield savings account or money market fund is a good place to put it.
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Since interest rates have increased, putting more money into a savings account is a safe way to make money without doing anything.
You May Also Like: Best Sandwich Shops In Phoenix That You Can Visit 2023
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For even when we were with you, this we commanded you, that if any would not work, neither should he eat.
2 Thessalonians 3:10
Finally understand why this is such an important concept. Like, Paul wasn't talking about people being physically incapable of physical labor and stuff. But people are naturally hard-wired to feel like we need to earn our keep. With the notable exception of salvation, which cannot be earned no matter how much we do (Ephesians 2:8-9), it seems like God made us to want to feel like we earned all the good things we have.
Like, in a game, it's not much fun if you didn't have to work for the prize at the end, now is it? Like when I get a cool power-up from defeating an EMMI, or beating the final boss of any game and just being left in tears because I did it and I wasn't sure if I could do it. Even in just a slow, steady game like Stardew Valley, every harvest feels so good because it means I put in the time and patience to get that starfruit or melon.
Of course, real life makes different kinds of demands, but it's the same principle. Get up at 6 every morning to go spend 8 hours at a job I can't stand, whose "vision" and "mission" I do not share, but the paycheck at the end of two weeks is what funds my life. (And it's not a hard job, it's just that it goes from being tedious and boring to making me want to scream and throw my computer out a window, with no middle ground in between.) Wash my dishes to have something clean to eat on. Spend a couple hours making a pot of soup, but if (ha, if, because I'm not much of a cook) it comes out decent, I have a nice, hot dinner for less than the restaurant, and leftovers for lunch for a couple days. Spend time planning out the colors and composition of even a simple sketch, but when it's done, I can feel satisfied that I did a good job.
In everything I do, if I do a good job, I can feel like I really did reap the rewards.
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