#paper swan presents
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Rare Feeling by Twain, live in Chinatown for Episode 3 of Paper Swan Presents
#music#live#live music#unplugged#unplugged live#twain#mat davidson#video#live session#paper swan#paper swan presents
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you know i must have been bone-tired when this part of the herb brides lore didn't come to my mind when i discussed how the Kin fundamentally differs from the cultures it is inspired by um There Is The Human Sacrifice part. like it's an important part of pathologic 2 that you are doing human, or anthropomorphic (if you want to see the Herb Brides as closer to spirits, which comes with its own set of problematics regarding how to approach their oppression) sacrifice. it's an important part of pathologic 2 that you kill a woman, as part of the journey and in direct resonance with you ritualistically killing cattle earlier, and she offers herself to you with cultural and religious significance.
human sacrifices have been done across the globe for millennia, but i cannot, for the life of me, find any source at all that mentions the Buryats (since that was the discussion point) partaking in human sacrifices by the turn of the 19th-early 20th century (or even anything past the 16th). every single source mentioning offerings and sacrifices i've read mentions animals, things such as milk and vodka, and often both at once. would love to read anything about these rituals if papers exist, but i'm personally drawing a blank.
the Kin has Obvious and very Visible influences but it also differs from specific (in this discussion's case, the Buryats) or wider (here, turkic/mongolic as a whole) cultures from the area by so many pieces, big and small, that i wouldn't have enough appendages on my whole body to count them all. and sister. i have plenty of appendages.
#i AM reading a paper that mentions the human sacrifices at Mongol burials where people (typically servants or family) would be sacrificed#to accompany the dead; as well as the Shor practice of sacrificing women/girls (replaced apparently quickly by sacrificing ducks)#but those seem pretty old [the Mongol part mentions the 13th century] & like. nothing about the buryats in that time period#i'm like 85% sure i saw in the beginning of being into patho someone saying how equating the Kin; who practice human sacrifices [& others]#to correlate/be meant to represent Real Life ethnicities is insulting because They Don't Do That.#and like. everythingggg that touches upon representation/appreciation/appropriation/theft is subjective and#informed my how much leeway you're willing to give the creators so that's like#bro i'm just reading PDFs#also just found out the discussion of ''The Kin Is Obviously Inspired But Not Meant To Represent [x]'' is over 2yrs old. we're still at it.#as anon said. ''unless you're tolkien; coming up with a whole fictional language is hard''.#anyways appendage time. stuff that differs just out of the top of my head:#everything relating to the religion which is almost a complete inverse of buryat tengrist/shamanic faith + don't get me started on buddhism#the clothes. the homes. the creation myths; beyond the apparition of Clay; which is present in so many cultures on earth#no swan ancestor. no lake worship. no sky/heavens. no tens of named hierarchical deities. NO BURBOT! no hats. no hats (burts into tears)#NO HORSES? ON THE EURASIAN STEPPE?#the belief that earth mustn't be cut is so buryat. i'm sure i've read it. no idea if it is also in other mongolic peoples but buryat it is.#also a bull-ancestor/bull totem. that exists in buryat tribes; but they also have a bunchhhhh of other sacred animals (including. swans.#also horses. there's this [charm?] made out of horse hair there is)#neigh (blabbers)#i'm realizin how crazy i sound repeating shit that has been said 2yrs ago but like someone already mentioned the human sacrifice.#someone already mentioned the clothes. someone already mentioned the yurts/gers. someone already mentioned the religion#like i'm just. repeating stuff. and yet. give it up for year 2
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Blank Space
𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 10ᴛʜ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴀʟʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx, ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏʙ ᴍᴀɴ. ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ!
You could feel his eyes on you, it had been like this for months. Coriolanus Snow's eyes followed you nearly everywhere you went. From your class presentations to where you sat in the cafeteria with your peers, those strikingly blue eyes were always watching. Arachne had called it "unnerving" and "downright creepy" but what she didn't know was that you loved it. Knowing that you had the smartest boy in the class wrapped around your finger felt empowering, it also helped that you had been in a relationship with said boy for months now.
It had been sudden, the beginnings of the relationship with him. Sejanus was the one who pointed him out to you. Perhaps he was just trying to put in a good word for his friend but before you knew it Coriolanus was bringing you white roses and brushing your hair from your face. He'd present you with little folded pieces of paper, made to look like swans or butterflies and you cherished each one, your desk drawer at home was filled with his gifts. You and Coriolanus had agreed not to walk around the academy flaunting your relationship and opted for a much more discreet version of boyfriend and girlfriend when in public. That promise of secrecy didn't exactly stop hushed gossip and rumors that flew around the school. You'd deny any ideas of dating but you knew so many of your peers saw right through this act. Of course, all this secrecy, just meant he was all the more touchy in private. Even now, as you sat in his lap at your desk, trying to focus on the essay that was due tomorrow.
"It's perfect. You always get good marks anyway."He said, his fingertips dancing around your waist trying to get you to pull your attention from the paper before you.
"Easy to say when you have the highest marks." You pointed out, squirming when his fingers brushed a particularly ticklish spot.
"True, but you've always been a better writer than me. Don't you want to eat some of that food your maid brought in? It smells wonderful." He nodded to the large cart of food that had been sitting in your room, ignored for the past ten minutes.
One thing about your charming boyfriend was that he was always hungry. Coriolanus never turned down any of your suggestions of what to eat and was constantly eager to try whatever your family's cook whipped up when he was visiting you. His explanation for this constant hunger was that the Snow's cook was simply terrible but they couldn't fire him since their grandmother loved him so.
"I guess we can eat." You sigh placing your essay neatly into a folder, and standing to let him up from your desk chair.
You carefully helped your boyfriend place some of the food on your oversized bed. Another thing about him was that he highly enjoyed eating while sitting on your bed with you, of course, you couldn't blame him your bed was irresistibly soft.
"Do you honestly think that Arachne has the best hair in the class?" He laughed
"It's always pinned so neatly! Not to mention how her hair bows always compliment her makeup!" You point out
" I personally believe that there's another who has the best hair." He says, popping a grape into his mouth
"Oh really, who? And don't say Sejanus or Festus because we both know you'd be lying." You laugh, taking another bite of the chicken on your plate.
"It is obviously me." Coriolanus says "Have you seen my curls?"
He's dead serious about the statement but you can't help but laugh.
"What's so funny?" He asks, reaching over to poke at your stomach as you giggle at him
"You're just so confident, it's kind of funny." You smile
"Oh please, you act like my looks aren't the whole reason you were interested in me in the first place." He points out.
"That is not fair." You groan, knowing it is true. Coriolanus' good looks had definitely helped him get the girl. It didn't help that his words were equally as charming.
"Don't worry, I know your hundreds of ex-boyfriends don't compare to me." He smirks, pulling you to his side
"It's not hundreds." You snort, sure, you dated quite a few boys in the past but, so far none of them have ever held a candle to your Coryo.
Coriolanus found himself fully enraptured by your presence. From the way you'd double knot your shoes to the soft cherry red lipstick, you wore when he'd take you out on dates that he made sure were cheap yet incredibly tasteful. He felt incredibly reckless whenever he was with you, the way he'd find himself blurting out the craziest things in your presence was simply uncanny. Even now as you sat, awaiting him in bed, he knew you were going to somehow drag some crazy statements out of his mouth even when he swore he wouldn't blab on about god only knows what.
"Hope you didn't miss me too much." He teases when he exits your bathroom, slipping under the covers with you
"Don't get cocky." You laugh, pulling the covers up to hide your chest.
Coriolanus hated that you did that after sex. He had just been inside you, and yet you insisted on hiding what was probably his favorite part of you under the silky sheets that adorned your bed. Sure, he wanted to respect your boundaries and all, but he also wanted to be able to use your chest as his personal pillow.
"Stop staring at them." You scold, trying to wiggle away from his arms that were wrapping around you under the blankets.
"I can't help it, they're so soft." He says, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.
"You're so strange." You laugh, running a hand through those wonderfully curly locks
"You love it." He sighed into your skin.
Months later, one day before the 10th Annual Hunger Games
You couldn't believe it. Coriolanus had blown you off. You had planned a date, a simple one really just a little picnic with some of his favorite foods and he never showed up. He had been acting strange ever since reaping day but when he had agreed earlier to your picnic idea you had been elated. You initially had thought he was just nervous since he got stuck with the District 12 girl but now you could see why he was acting so oddly. The moment you saw him standing in that damn cage at the zoo next to her, holding her hand, you knew exactly what was going on, he was interested in a girl who would be dead in days. His songbird was pretty, she'd give him that but what the hell did Lucy Gray have to offer your Coryo that you didn't already possess? Sure, she was a good singer that was obvious but other than that what did she have? Certainly not riches or manners to win your boy over and yet she was doing it anyway, she was singing her songs and casting a spell over your Coriolanus. You wondered if she was even truly interested in him, what if she was just trying to survive and Coryo was falling for it like an idiot?
It took quite a bit of self-control not to toss something at his head when he entered your room.
"I'm sorry...I know I missed your picnic." He said, crossing the room quickly
"You're only sorry for missing my picnic?" You ask, not rising from your seat
"What are you talking about? I'm here to apologize for standing you up. I was with Lucy Gray she needed food and I wanted to talk to her about strategy for the games." He said
"Really? You were talking strategy with her?" You roll your eyes, pointing to the television in your room which was paused on the broadcast Lucky Flickerman had done earlier that afternoon. Lucky was the focus of the shot but in the background, anyone with eyes could see Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray overly close to one another.
"I don't think talking strategy requires wiping her tears for her Coryo." You say
"She's just scared, I felt bad for her." He lies
"So you were just comforting her?" You ask
"Yes. Nothing more." He says
Jealousy reared its ugly head and set a bitter taste in your mouth. Did he honestly expect you to believe that?
"You're a man of many talents, Coryo but you're not a very good liar." You point out before clicking a button on your remote to show him the next thing you want him to see.
You want to laugh at the way his eyes widen at what you're showing him.
"She kisses you here, Coryo. I'm sure you would've continued too if you weren't so caught up in your own desires for that Plinth Prize." You point out, letting the footage play of him and Lucy Gray in the dark at the zoo which had to have been not even an hour ago.
"Are you spying on me?" He asks, offended
"You forget my mother's position in the Capitol, Coryo. She pioneered the advanced cameras The Hunger Games uses each year. Did you honestly think that there wouldn't be cameras watching the Tributes through the night?" You laugh
"So you're watching me?" He asks, clearly upset that you caught him red-handed
"You're the one skipping out on a relationship that is more important than anything that Songbird could offer." You coldly say
"You're crazy," Coriolanus says backing away from you and your camera footage
"You're one to talk, Coryo. Have you looked in the mirror recently?" You laugh, standing up
"Jealousy isn't a good look on you." He says
"And cheating isn't a good one on you." You counter
"That wasn't cheating." He says
"Really? And what do you call kissing another person who isn't in your relationship called?" You ask
"I don't need to explain my actions to you." He says
"You don't have to." You say "I hope she's worth all your trouble, considering she could die tomorrow."
"She'll win." He assures himself
"If she doesn't I'm sure you'll be quite sad, given you're so taken with her." You say, walking over to your desk where a vase of white roses sits, he gave them to you the day of the reaping. You pull them from the vase and walk towards him.
"What are you doing?" He asks as you get closer
"Returning your gifts." You say sharply before tossing them at him "Give them back to Grandma'am I'm sure she'll be glad to have them back in her greenhouse."
"You're acting insane." He says holding the roses gently
"I'm not. I'm just responding to everything you've done." You say coldly
"You know all those past boyfriends of yours, one of them said you were insane. I should have listened." He says, pointing an accusing finger at you
"Oh please. I'm insane?" You laugh
"Yeah, you are. And this," He points to himself and then you "Is over."
You watch as Coriolanus tosses his roses on the floor before storming out of your room, and presumably out of your family's home. From your window that overlooks the front of the house, you see him cast one more glance at you from the front yard.
"Oh, Coryo, you'll come running back."
Part 2
In case anyone reading this is wondering I do not hate Lucy Gray in any way so don't come after me.
The teaser for Part Two can be found here
#coriolanus snow#young coriolanus snow#fanfic#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#lucy gray baird#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow fluff#tbosas#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#tom blyth#rachel zegler#Spotify#Youtube
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Douzième Fille
12th girl
××《☆》××
Having to be in pairs for a group project, two people with mixed feelings work together to create a presentation. Going into eachothers houses is easy until a certain cat wants to play cupid. Feelings erupt, and miscommunication has to be endured. A soccer game in the rain might prove that Descamps listens more than he should.
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Joseph Descamps x Reader
Warnings: bullying (poor pichon), boys being boys, very confusing feelings, angst bcs of achilles and patroclus (maybe even joseph and reader???), miscommunication in the enemies to lovers department, swearing
This chapter has references to The Song of Achilles book (ik its not the right timeline, but we have to do this for the angst so bare w me)
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Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say
===
The scores of our exams are being published. I sit in my seat, eyes scanning the numbers and fingertips smoothing out the paper. Most of them are in the ranges of 12-16, which is good enough for me.
"As you know, this is a school where we like to experiment with new methods. Next week, we are going to try a new approach." I look up from my papers, interested in the proposal of something new.
"You're going to prepare a presentation, working in pairs. You'll be working with the classmate sitting next to you, and then you'll present your work in class together. And for a sense of free will, you can present about any subject. How does that sound?"
I look to the girl next to me. Her name was Louise. She's quiet most of the time and keeps to herself. I smile softly. She smiles back.
The teacher clears his throat, eyes on Descamps and Dupin. "You two, of which I already expect a chaotic presentation, will be paired with someone else." His eyes land on me and Louise. Please, no.
"Descamps and Pardine, Louise and Dupin. Please remember your partner." I internally groan, placing my head into my hands. I look to my side, already seeing Louise and Dupin waving to each other, Louise giggling. I groan again. I don't look at Descamps. He doesn't, either.
Pichon raises his hand. "What if we're sitting alone?" The class laughs. I look at Pichon in pity.
"Well, you can work with Ms. Sabiani." The teacher says in response.
"Look. Pichon is blushing. He's turned pink like a pig." Dupin says, and the class laughs again. Even Louise giggles. She likes him, it's obvious, but what is there to like? I roll my eyes.
"That's enough, Dupin." The teacher shouts at him, the smile on his face gone. Annick raises her hand.
"Do we really have to work in pairs?" She asks.
"That's the whole point." He answers. "And I'm warning you, half a pair's work will result in half the grade."
××《☆》××
As I walk down the stairs, I look up when I hear pigs oinking. I wasn't wrong. Descamps' group of friends are pigs.
When I spot Simone and Michèle in the bench under the tree, our usual spot, I make my way to them.
"Help me gain some decency to go up to Descamps and not punch him in the face." I groan as I sit on the bench with them.
"It's unfortunate for you. Our teacher could've picked anyone else." Michèle says, pity in her voice.
"Should I go talk to him now or later?" They don't answer because they see Descamps make his way towards us.
I fight the urge to start an argument with him. About anything, really. Just to get him to stay a bit longer. I clear my throat at the thought.
"Your place?" He says, now standing infront of us, hands in his pockets. I nod once, and he walks away.
"Thank god that was over quick." Something deep inside me knew I didn't mean that.
Jean Pierre walks towards us with a book in hand. I look at Simone with a teasing smile, but there's something in her eyes I can't really tell. Like she knows something.
"Here, this is yours." He hands Michèle the book. "I put it in my bag by mistake." Michèle thanks him. He walks away with a 'see you later'.
Michèle continues to complain to us about her grades. Simone sighs, mind floating away. I look at her confused. I'll ask her about it later.
I look towards Applebaum. We make eye contact, and I smile. He looks away, fear in his eyes. What's up with everyone today?
××《☆》××
In one of those rare moments, my parents are home for dinner. We sit in the dining table, enjoying our food.
"Someone's coming over tomorrow. I know you won't be here, but I thought it'd be better if you knew." I tell them, handing small bits of food to George.
"Oh? What will you be doing?" My father asks, cutting his food into smaller pieces.
"Group project. We'll probably just stay in my room." I pet George as he eats his food.
"Are we going to meet her even after the project?" My mother says, looking up from her food.
"He, actually. And no." This makes them pause, silence surronding the room. My father clears his throat.
"A boy? And both of you will be in your room?" He says, placing his elbows on the table.
I take time to process this. "Papa, no. It's not like that." I turn red in my seat. "Trust me, it's just a project. Nothing else."
"Of course we trust you. It's just, you know. You're a teen, and teens go through... stuff." My mother says, stuttering a bit. I cover my face with my hands.
"Mama, please don't make it weird." I groan.
"No, it's perfectly normal for your age. If you want, we can forget about it-" I cut her off.
"Yes, please. Forget about it." I cut my food aggressively, face as warm as my plate.
We stay quiet as we finish the rest of our dinner.
××《☆》××
"The league of nations, L.O.N..." I fade the rest of the discussion out, watching the way the sun rests on the trees leaves, the birds tending to themselves. Last nights conversation clouds my mind, and I catch myself smiling for no reason.
I sigh every time, biting my lip in my own embarrassment. I glance at Descamps. He's focusing on the lesson for once. Nothing will happen at my place, right?
He feels my gaze on him and gently turns his head. His eye meets mine, and there's a small quirk on the corner of his lip.
"Quiet at the back." Ms. Giraud calls out suddenly.
Descamps looks away. I purse my lips, something stirring in my chest. My breathing is faster, and I feel warmer. Have I gotten sick already?
Annick walks into the room, hair tousled and frizzy. Ms. Giraud shouts at her, and my ear drums are about to explode.
Ms. Giraud gives Annick detention, and with every word Annick said back, an hour or two more.
Ms. Giraud continues to piss me off every second of the day with her strictness and very clear jealousy towards Annick. She finally continues the discussion, and I (annoyingly) decide to finally listen.
××《☆》××
I wait right outside the gate for Descamps. He comes running to the gate but slows down when he sees me, acting like he wasn't just leaping to get here.
"Hey." He says, acting nonchalant. He even has his hand in his pocket.
"Hi. Let's get going." I keep my face blank as I lead the way to my place. We walk in silence, listening to our footsteps next to each other.
Once we make it to my flat's building, I go up the steps, stopping in front of my door and unlocking it.
We step inside, the flat looking warm with the sunlight entering through the windows. I lock my door and drop the keys on my kitchen counter.
"Your coat?" I reach my hands out. He throws his coat to me, the heaviness of it making me stumble. I scowl but hang it anyway.
"Head to my room. Down the hallway to the right." I say as I grab a few supplies from my father's office.
"Want me in your bed already?" He calls out once he's inside. I hear a yelp.
I run to my room. "Descamps, are you okay?" I ask worriedly. He stares at George.
"What is that?" He points to George, who's currently walking toward me. I bend down and pet him, planting a kiss on his head.
"This is George." I carry George and craddle him like a baby. I walk towards Descamps with the furball in my arms. I rock him slowly.
"You can touch him if you want. He doesn't bite." I smile at the orange cat, then look up at Descamps. He's staring at me with the most soft look I've seen him wear. My heart thumps in my chest.
He clears his throat, hand going up shakily to pet George. George purrs when Descamps pets him. There's now a smile on Descamps face, as warm as his stare.
I bite my lip at the proximity. I memorise as much as I can about him.
The way he was breathing, like he was on a bed so soft he could sink into it. The way he smelt like faded cigarette smoke and expensive cologne. The way his bones moved under his skin as he bent over to take a closer look at George. The number of times he's blinked, the number of times he's laughed under his breath.
I dive deeper into my trance as he looks up at me. The way he stared now is so different from the way he did all those times before. Like we knew something that we haven't acknowledged yet. Or chose not to.
Something falls in the kitchen, and we snap back to reality. My face warms up, the lighting from the windows making it clearer.
Descamps walks away from me, clearing his throat again. "The cat's ugly." This makes me snap my head to his direction.
"What did you just say?" My brows furrow, defensive of the cat sleeping in my arms.
He rolls his eye. "Nothing. Let's get the project started, I guess." I glare at him for a couple more seconds, then I gently place George down on the bed, excusing myself to get more stuff from my father's office.
When I'm halfway to my room, I hear whispering. I peek at the slit on my door, wondering what was happening behind it.
Descamps is petting George, whispering words as if he's hushing a baby to sleep.
My aura softens, and my heart bursts with admiration. I accidentally drop something and curse to myself. Descamps hears the thud on the floor and pushes himself away from George. George continues to sleep.
I open the door then close it gently. "Let's get started."
××《☆》××
"Do you have suggestions?" I ask Descamps. He doesn't answer, his head turned to the side. I sigh.
Before I could say anything, he talks. "What's that?" He nods to the book on my shelf. It was a copy of the story of Achilles and Patroclus, with a notebook strapped on the front.
"It's nothing important." I shake my head. He purses his lips in thought.
"Can I see it?" His question catches me off guard, his head finally turning to look at me. No one's ever showed interest in my books or notes. I stay quiet, then after a while, I nod.
He gets up from the bed and grabs the book. He takes the string that attaches the notebook to the copy off. He scans the back of the book and hums.
"We can base the project off of this, if you don't mind." He holds up the paperback and the notebook. I'm stunned in my place.
"It's really not that interesting-"
"It must be if you had a whole notebook dedicated to it." There isn't even a teasing tone when he said that. He meant it genuinely.
"Fine." I sigh, grabbing the notebook from his grasp.
"Good." "Great." "Amazing." "Piss off." "Whatever."
"Mind if you read it to me?" He says. "I have a feeling I'll understand better when you say it, since it's your work."
I nod, hesitantly. I opened the first page of my notebook. Most of the stuff I've written in it is a summary and a review of the book.
He leans back on my pillows. I let him. I started to read.
"Patroclus was a young prince, exiled from his kingdom for accidentally killing a boy, and was taken in by their neighbouring king, King Peleus."
George purrs as I pet him. I shift to a more comfortable sitting position. Descamps' eyes are on me.
"When Patroclus first saw Achilles, it was in a competition run by Patroclus' father. He described Achilles as if he was looking at a painting made with precision and grace." I flip the page. George walks over to Descamps' lap. I huff, ignoring it.
"When they met and officially talked, Patroclus thought he'd hated Achilles. Achilles and his beauty, his speed, his perfection. In the years that pass, they grow to be attached to the other." George meows. The meow that indicates he wants petting.
I pause my reading, and Descamps looks at me confused. "Why'd you stop?"
"George wants pets." Descamps makes an 'oh' sound and pets George. He meows again.
"Maybe he wants you." Descamps says, petting the fur baby on his lap. I sigh and lean in close to pet George. With the uncomfortable position, I shift to sit beside Descamps on the bed. I clear my throat and pet George. I continue to read.
"They knew everything about each other. What they'd prefer, like how I like the rain too much to cover it with an umbrella, but know I'll get sick without it. That's how the two worked. They knew every detail, every routine, every habit, every movement. A love you'd have to fight the gods for."
A page is flipped, smoothing out of paper echoes in the room.
"Achilles and Patroclus loved each other with every inch of their heart and soul. Quoting the book, Patroclus states, 'He is half my soul, as the poets say'. Along with the famous paragraph." My eyes switch to the next page.
Descamps shifts in his place, leaning back on the pillows, looking at the pages where I'm reading off of. I start to relax, leaning back, too. George purrs.
"I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."
I take a glance at Descamps, and he's already looking at me. George snores in his sleep, making the aura of the room warmer. More comfortable.
His eye dropped to my lips, and I could've sworn I was hearing a heartbeat as fast as the wind at fall. I glance at his, pink and soft, like a cushion ready for rest.
When we lean in, slowly, too slow, my heart drops as he pulls away and stretches. I furrow my eyebrows, a dread of realisation. He's been toying with me. I close my notebook and gather my things.
"Where are you off to?" He asks. I don't answer him.
"Hey," He grabs my arm. I take it back from him. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing." I say coldly. "I'll finish this project myself."
"What? No. This is a group project remember?"
"I can't keep doing this. You're too hard to work with." I stack the books and materials in my arms.
"We haven't even gotten anything done yet." He flops his hands in the air.
"Exactly. You're too distracting."
"What did I do? I've been quiet the whole time."
"Yeah, well, that's the problem. You're too quiet. You aren't suggesting things."
"What does that have to do with anything?" He raises his voice.
"Just shut up, okay? Just leave. I told you I'll finish the project by myself." I get up from the bed, heading to my father's office.
"But I don't get why you're suddenly mad!" He stands up, following me.
"You don't have to know. Just leave me alone, okay?"
"Fucking fine. You're being too stubborn anyways. Do all the work. Getting pissed off for no fucking reason." He grabs his coat from the rack, putting it on. He doesn't even glance at me, opening and shutting the door with a loud slam.
I even out my breathing. It was going fine. Then I think to myself, what was? Me and Descamps, going fine? I laugh at the thought. I hated that boy. I hated him with my whole heart. My mind travels to the notes I was just reading.
Patroclus had thought he hated Achilles in the start, too. I shake the thought out of my head, slipping against the wall to sit on the floor, knees to my chest.
I hear tapping on the floor boards. I look to my side to see George, meowing softly. I take a deep breath in, then reach my hand out to pet him.
I hate him. And I know I do. He lingers in my mind like a fog in the mountains. The way his aura had softened, his smile, his warmth. I hated the thought of him, but then he smiled, and like Achilles, his face was like the sun.
××《☆》××
Night comes, and I lay in my bed, windows slightly open for the wind to come through. I'm restless, not getting a blink of sleep. I'm halfway through the project already. If Descamps had helped, it'd take longer, I think to myself, trying to still feel angry.
I don't feel angry at all anymore. There's a sort of regret in me for pushing him away. But at the same time, it's what he deserved. We had leaned in, and I didn't even know what I was expecting. I should've expected him to pull away, but what was he going to do in the first place?
Was he going to whisper in my ear? If so, what would he whisper to me? Was he going to say something about how I write, how I speak? A thought so blurry pops up in my head, and I brush it off. But it felt warm, so safe, so soft. There was a scent stuck in my head as I reminisced on the thought, trying to figure out what I was thinking.
I fall asleep in the process, dreaming about the thought instead. Limbs touching, bending, adjusting. I taste cigarettes and strawberries. I smell smoke and expensive perfume. I feel something soft against my lips, hands cupping my face, my neck, my head, and my waist.
He felt warm, tall, and heavy against me. I hold onto the dream, relaxing.
××《☆》××
I wake up, sweat coating my skin. George sits on the window sill, the sun making him shine like gold. I sit up and stretch. I get off my bed and head to my bathroom.
My hair is messy, and I have a bit of dried drool on the corner of my mouth. I wash my face to give myself some energy. I take my clothes off lazily, tying my hair up and getting inside my shower.
Once I finish, I comb and fix my hair, head to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, grab my things for school, including the unfinished project, and head to the front door.
A stack of paper tied with string greets me. I furrow my eyebrows. There's no note. I squat down and pick it up. I instantly know who it's from.
It's an essay about Achilles and Patroclus, detailed and opinionated. Written on the last piece of paper, sitting at the bottom of the stack, it reads, "I bought a copy. Finished it for you."
I stood still, processing the words, flipping through the papers to double check if they're authentic. I let out a scoff of surprise. My head snaps to a nearby clock. I'm going to be late if I don't start walking now.
My feet carry me to the front gates of Voltaire, the familiar faces and light chatter calming me. I spot Simone and Michèle, and I make my way to them.
××《☆》××
Rain starts to fall. The rain always brought me comfort. The different sounds it made when hitting different objects, the way it sways with the wind, the smell it gives the grass after.
I lag behind Simone and Michèle as they make their way to the field. I look for my satchel, then remember I'd forgotten my umbrella. I curse to myself, finding the satchel. It felt heavier than usual. I look inside, then see a clear umbrella. I open it and twist it around, gaping in awe. There's a note in the bag. I open to read it.
"Don't get sick from what you love." The note said.
There's only one person I've told about my love for rain.
I head outside, hiding my red face once I see a drenched one-eyed boy. I smile to Simone and Michèle, spotting them seated on a bench. I glance behind me as I sit down, finding an eye already looking at me with a small smile. His smile drops, and he looks away when I catch him. I purse my lips.
We watch the match, getting my mind off of the boy with ash brown hair. Once the match finishes, we all make our way home. I look up, seeing the rain pattering against the clear umbrella. I smile, watching the water droplets slip off the plastic, hearing the pattering of rain.
××《☆》××
The next day, I repeat my routine. I thoroughly read through Descamps' essay, rewritting it to fit in with mine. I should be thankful, and I am, but Descamps is making my head hurt with the way he acts. I walked to school, going subject after subject, until our presentation finally came.
Earlier, I'd slipped him the script, tucking it in his bag. I hope silently that he's memorised it.
Annick and Pichon are presenting in front of the class. I smiled softly, impressed by the presentation, and refreshed with the dynamic of the two. If only things had gone differently with Descamps, we could've been good friends. But we aren't. I don't think we ever will.
Once they finish, our teacher calls me and Descamps to the front. My anxiousness radiates off my body. Simone and Michèle give me a reassuring look. I nod at them slightly.
My eyes meet Descamps, and we're standing at the front of the class. They're quiet, and my eyes scan all of them. Surprisingly, Descamps starts.
"Me and Pardine are going to present the story of Achilles and Patroclus and the debate of their relationship; romantic or platonic?" Descamps looks at me, his hand hovering at the small of my back for support.
I start, and faster than I thought, I finish the presentation. The room claps, as they do with the others. I glance at Descamps but see him already walking back to his seat. My smile dropped slowly, remembering I was still on his bad side, and vice versa.
I walk back to my seat quietly. I don't even hear the score because my mind is too occupied with the thought of him. Would we stay angry at eachother always? At the same time, it shouldn't matter. I hate him. Right?
I shake my head. I hate him, surely. I should. I dig deep in my head for a reason. Bullying Pichon and Michèle, toying with my feelings (feelings I'm not aware whether it's good or bad), the way he acts, and smells, and feels when he's near.
I fucking hate him. I really do. I hate him, I repeat in my head. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
Then, like earlier, something inside me knows I don't mean it.
At the end of the day, I make peace with solitude. My mind wanders, and I notice that every time it does, they always end up with the face of a one-eyed boy.
Sure, Descamps gave me a finished essay for our project, and sure, he gave me an umbrella that was clear so I could see the rain. So what? I still hate him. Maybe just a little less now.
××《☆》××
End- Chapter three: He is half my soul, as the poets say.
Next- Chapter four: Flashy Magazines
××《☆》××
End of chapter three. Rollercoaster of emotions this one. It's a bit shorter than usual because i took out a bunch of the scenes in the series to focus on the emotions of reader and hopefully u guys get what im trying to give. Thanks for reading, requests r open, and see u next chapter!!!
#joseph descamps x reader#joseph descamps#mixte1963#michèle magnan#simone palladino#jean pierre magnan#alain laubrac#enemies to lovers#fanfic#reader insert#slow burn#x reader
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Interactive WIPs w Demo
Grey Swan I - Birds of a Rose
The Divine Flock.
Some call them crazy, some even dangerous. Some even say the cult is hiding dark secrets. But, in all your life you have yet to find one. After all you should know should there be any dark secrets: you are a member after all!
A member, not only of the Divine Flock, but also of the Avis Academy, the best school the cult has. Your life is quiet and follows a strict routine, at least until two Strays from the outside, the normal, world are allowed in the normally so closed off grounds and as a newly appointed Wing it is your job to keep an eye on one of them. With their arrival some of those dark secrets may finally come to light…
You ARE not playing as a BIRD!!!
DEMO https://dashingdon.com/go/13119
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Dark Academia.
Moniker for MC: Wing MC.
Genderselectable MC: cis male or female, trans male or female. However due to growing up in a cult, MC wont know that trans is a thing/what it means, this is something MC can learn about. The same goes for sexual orientation: play as gay, bi, straight, aroace or ace, but be prepared for consequences.
Pick your level of devotion: be a devout follower of the teachings of the Divine Flock, reject it partly or wholly, or simply not care. All of it will have consequences.
Choose one of various school clubs, your volery, and get an unique storyline. Ranging from dance to school security, to managing your social media page.
Important people:
Your flock, a group of younger pupils you were responsible for before the Strays arrived. You may not be their Wing on paper anymore, but you still hold a special place in their heart! They do miss you and are looking forward giving you a present on your birthday!
Your volery: whichever volery you joined, you are going to met pupils that are just as enthusiastic about your chosen interest as you are! Some more than others.
Your parents. It’s another question if the relationship between you is good, but important it surely is!
ROs:
Fuchsia King
Chase Watson
Wing Droznik Juschka
Wing Astoria Rapace
-only for Peacocks: Marter
-only for Swans: Elrond/Estelle Falkenflug
-Vampire route: Sebastian Voss
-AMAB Raven RO: Marcel Rabenschlag
Grey Swan II - Hawks and Doves
Unless otherwise stated you are playing as a normal human! Two legs, two arms, internal organs, hopefully a brain too. We will see how much of this organ stays intact after state propaganda, will we?
Someone once said that you were the most happiest youth in the world after the Great Heartbeat, that had shattered the old world. Earlier you would have agreed in a heartbeat, wearing the light green uniform of your state youth organisation. But now? When war has come to Avistrions shores and news reels show only destruction ?
Choose your gender, way of thinking and stance while growing up in a religious dictatorship on the giant island Avistrion. Be a devout follower of the Divine Flock, the only thing that survived the earthquake that devastated the earth. Or be the Vulture, trying to rip it to shreds, while wearing the badge of youth leadership… where will you be when war strikes your so closed off country? Which side will you be on when it ends? Will you even survive long enough to see the outcome?
Moniker for MC: Fugol MC.
ROs
Agon Falkenflug
Adler/Weihe Habichtklau
Johanna/Nikola Arra
Grey Swan III - Wisteria Birds
Wisteria Birds (fantasy, drama, angst)! Currently on pause.
You are beautiful, trained in art and music.
You are deadly, trained in the unique weapons that no one except you can use.
You are dying. Kept alive by the very same thing that keeps you save from others abusing their power over you…
You have no rights. But you can do whatever you want, even kill, without having to fear any consequences.
You are the most pleasant death that anyone can wish for.
You are an artwork. And all you are supposed to be is look pretty, show of your owners wealth.
But oh, you could become so much more…
You play as a highly specialised trained entertainer… an Artwork, expensive companion to the rich and noble ones in Aklant, a country with rigid rules and unspoken laws, strict class divide and obsessed with anything that shows how rich they are… or at least let them appear rich. Artworks themselves are outside of this all, freed from all those social chains, but not seen as human… maybe its time to change that? Or leave the status quo as it is, up to you!
Moniker for MC: Artwork MC.
ROs:
Fauconniers, your potential buyers:
Chevalier Armand Sanson
Alexandre Desrosier
Others, you may work together with one or more of them?
“Mouette”
Sanglant du Verdier
You have been a Hound, the human companion of a vampire, for years.
Until you find yourself among the undead and masterless after a night where everything went wrong… leaving you with no other choice but to move back in with your parents.
ROs (will expand)
Theo Grimm
Agent Rosa Caleb
Marian Viorel
Ghibli inspired! Mainly Howls moving castle.
You play someone from our world who ends up in another world! Since this is an aspect I greatly enjoyed in the book and was really sad they didnt include in the movie, there will be chances of jumping between the worlds (and of course becoming a magician too!).
ROs, some are locked into specific magic combinations:
Opera Job and changing into Animals: Santu Cajarin
Changing into Animals: Rosalind Eagledancer
#interactive fiction#birds of a rose#wisteria birds#if#cyoa#urban fantasy#dark academia#vögel der rose#low fantasy#hundsnächte#dog nights#citadel of dancing birds
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This 1995 castle house in Madison, FL was listed for $750K, and only a month later, sold for $$425K. I wonder why. It has 6bds & 7ba. Well, let's take a look and see.
The entrance hall. At first I thought those things on the floor to the left were slippers, but they're a collection of swan planters.
I guess the stairs aren't that castle-like.
The living room is large, but it's in need of a refresh.
I don't know where this is, but it's a water feature in the house.
Spacious dining room. The house is going to need some work and updating. Also, the presentation is so unattractive.
A family room with an outer door. A brown paper bag covers the window in the door.
Kitchen's big, but I don't care for the color of the island.
This is the hugest pantry I've ever seen.
I'm lost and confused in this house. Here's a bar with a fridge and piano, so it must be a rec room.
I'm beginning to see why they knocked $325K off the price. Look at the indoor pool. This house needs a lot of reno.
And, here's a depressing pool room.
Heading up the 2nd level. This could be a lot nicer with the proper decor.
Must be the primary bedroom b/c it's so big. I wonder what the booth-like thing is. Maybe a small bed?
This is a nice library.
Not a bad bath.
Another bedroom.
This bedroom's a little creepy.
Don't know where the spiral stairs go to, but it looks like a black hole.
Here's a hot tub. The area needs a patio or something.
The land is a very large parcel- 62.59 acres. Looks like the lawn is all brown, though. This whole property needs a lot of work both inside and out.
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/2398-W-Us-Highway-90-Madison-FL-32340/45698184_zpid/?
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Title: Black Swans
(Chapter 10 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)
*Crossposted to AO3 Here*
Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader (implied), Smoker x Reader (implied)
Chapter Warnings: language, violence, blood, unprotected vaginal sex, physical abuse, obsessive/toxic relationship
Chapter Synopsis: As Big News Morgans’ spin on you and Doflamingo’s new relationship hits the front pages worldwide, enemies and allies react. The past is also reflected in the present as Doflamingo’s need for you remains a danger for you both.
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11
——————————
——————————
It was barely dawn, the perfect time to be going through her morning stretches as Tashigi swung her sword gently. Moving slowly from one stance to another, extending her body and holding her balance in each position as she did so.
Being on deck this early gave her more room, and less snickering from some of the other crew. But still being one of the youngest aboard, she had been working on getting a thicker skin about that kind of teasing. So many of her fellow sailors still only treated her like a little sister at best.
But, that wasn’t wholly unwarranted either as her glasses slid down her nose and she did nearly fall, ducking as a large bird swooped right past her head abruptly.
And then another, and yet another as she straightened up in surprise while the watchman in the crow’s nest above called down to her. One bird had landed by the swordswoman, but many more were still passing overhead as they were spreading out to the other ships dotting the horizon this close to the island they were patrolling past.
“Grab it, Tashigi! What’s got the news coos so riled up this morning?” The watchman yelled.
“I’m trying!” She had to push her glasses back up to even see the bird clearly. And it spread its wings a bit impatiently as she did reach and take one of the many papers from its leather pouch before it flew again for its next delivery.
“Well!? Who did what, sword girl!?” The watchman still was calling out loudly.
“Hold on!” She was now fighting to get the paper unfolded in the sea breeze to view the front page as she started to read the headlines first.
“Princess Nefertari Vivi was almost kidnapped!” Tashigi yelled back. “Um, she wasn’t though. And then Warlord Doflamingo got engaged…to her? Huh!?”
“What!?” Some other deckhands shouted in unison from the railings above.
“No, wait my glasses are dirty! That can’t be right…” Tashigi was getting flustered, realizing some of the salt spray of the waves had gotten onto her lenses again.
“Someone take the paper from her!” The watchman shouted back to the other deckhands.
“Why are you all goddamn screaming!?” Smoker barked back at them all then, now coming up the stairs from the galley.
He had his cigars already in his mouth. A mug of hot coffee still steaming as he carried it in one hand.
“Smoker, sir!” They saluted. “Captain on deck!”
But he was scowling, seeing Tashigi nearly lose the paper to the wind as she’d been trying to clean her glasses against her shirt.
“Just give me that already!” He chided her, snatching the newspaper away with his other hand.
More crew had wandered back to deck at the commotion and were clearly waiting as their captain’s eyes went to that front page.
But everything went silent. Silence except for the wind fluttering against the sails and rigging above. At least until Tashigi abruptly yelped. The young woman having to quickly move her feet away from that splash of scalding hot coffee as Smoker’s cup fell to the deck.
“Smoker-san!?” The others called out in surprise.
Both his hands were gripping the paper now as he quickly turned the pages, glaring eyes slightly widening in disbelief the more he read and saw the pictures that accompanied it.
“Get me the long distance snail, now!” He yelled back to the crew members still hovering in the doorways.
—————————
“They are not engaged, Garp. Goddammit quit making this worse!” The Fleet Admiral snapped back at his friend, speaking loudly over the cacophony of snails still ringing throughout the office.
“In our day, if you took a girl’s hand and made a picture like that, that’s an engagement! The little shit knew damn well what he was doing!” Vice Admiral Garp insisted just as stubbornly. “And that’s not the worst. The worst is coming for you. Tsuru tells you to watch out for that girl and now you won’t even let Momonga intervene? You’re just going to have that pink jackass carry her off without a fight!? Tsuru’s going to skin you alive! As she should!”
“Listen to me for once in your wretched life, you idiot! I was specifically ordered to stand by! You think I want to sit here and do nothing!?” Sengoku still argued back, their competing voices more than echoing down the hall at this point. Even before the door had swung open and in come Kizaru and Aokiji to join in on the already chaotic scene.
“Sir, that pirate doesn’t have the authority to do any of this! King of Dressrosa or not.” Aokiji spoke immediately, uncharacteristically awake and even riled this early in the morning as he came to stand before the desk.
That contrast of Aokiji’s strong reaction all the more stark in comparison to Kizaru’s who merely strode over to the couch against the wall. Taking a comfortable seat there instead as he spoke easily. “Just send me, Fleet Admiral. I’d be in and out in no time to pick her up if Momonga is too worried about the optics of it. They wouldn’t even see me long enough for a photo. Just say she had another assignment that came up is all…simple.”
Sengoku’s currently harsh gaze moved from Aokiji, then to Kizaru before he started to speak in return.
But yet another voice cut through before he could. The last of his three admirals now filling that open doorway, large arms crossed like a wall across his chest. “This mess is what Momonga deserves for letting that woman board his ship in the first place.”
Kizaru only raised a curious eyebrow at those new harsh words, but Aokiji fully pivoted to turn in an instant and face Akainu as they stared one another down.
“Oh, get over it.” Akainu answered in response to that new look of insult on Aokiji’s face. “Every thing that girl touches ends up this way, doesn’t it? Think with your real brain for once, Kuzan. The best thing you ever did for your career was to let that one go.”
Kizaru whistled in reaction to that genuine barb, the very slightest smirk on his face before multiple things happened all at once.
Steam shot to the ceiling as Akainu had raised his forearm to block the incoming ice. The ice which had hit his magma skin then sending scorching heat in all directions as Kizaru disappeared with a yellow flash from the couch.
Aokiji was thrown immediately down before he could even attempt another blast however, Vice Admiral Garp grabbing his former student by the back of the collar and taking him to the floor in one decisive shot like a misbehaving child.
As Aokiji’s chest had slammed to the ground, Kizaru only appeared again at the other side of the room. The yellow suited admiral now holding the bleating pet goat that had previously been in the damage radius of all that steam.
Sengoku sighed loudly as Kizaru walked the unharmed animal back over to him, its little bell ringing while it kicked its legs helplessly before it could be set back down near its master.
Aokiji shifted then, pinned to the ground on his stomach still, and too surprised to properly resist really as Garp’s other hand had twisted the ice admiral’s arm so easily behind his back to further hold him there.
“Bet you didn’t think this old man could still move that fast, did ya, kid!?” Garp laughed loudly. Not even putting in that much effort to achieve such an iron grip before he did let Aokiji up again once Akainu had reverted back from his magma state.
All this transpiring just before a large part of the now heat damaged ceiling collapsed into a haze of dust and cracked plaster right down onto Sengoku’s new carpet.
The Fleet Admiral’s teeth were fully grit as he pushed his glasses back up his nose while that dust cloud spread. His blood pressure rising with it as his new voice left zero room for further disagreement.
“Here is what we will NOT be doing any further this morning! We are the pride of the goddamn navy! And we will not be instigated into infighting all because of one, spoiled brat of a pirate!”
Garp scoffed, unimpressed and prompting a brief glare of death from Sengoku, who only continued unabated.
“And going forward, none of you three are allowed to engage Doflamingo without my explicit approval!” His eyes locked directly onto Aokiji’s in that moment as well.
Intel had of course gotten back to Sengoku by now of Kuzan’s unsanctioned trip to the warlord’s residence on Sabaody. Sengoku hadn’t known the extent of things then. But Doflamingo’s new behavior in addition to Aokiji’s reaction to it were now more than enough to make this picture of jealousy all too clear. “And if these orders are disregarded, strongest disciplinary measures will absolutely follow!”
And all three admirals gave varying signals of surprise to those words. At least seeming to agree on one thing, that the choice of inaction was never the preferred path when faced with a pirate’s clear disrespect of the uniform.
And Sengoku’s voice did lower again even as he still seethed. His hands were far more tied than they could ever understand. Not until one of them finally sat in this chair one day.
“This comes straight from Mariejois as well. The government is intending to milk this fiasco as a public distraction I’m sure.” It was already being framed as some goddamn fairytale thing. A king publicly falling for a soldier, or more specifically a sailor in your case.
But Big News Morgans had to go above and beyond even that interpretation as always.
In Morgans’ version, you were actually the knight out there saving your princesses. A subversion of the normal children’s archetypes. And King Doflamingo had taken notice, now choosing you the knight instead of said princesses.
The only thing Sengoku truly couldn’t tell his men was that a warning of this very thing had already happened, years ago. And that both himself and Tsuru had clearly misjudged the longevity of that danger.
She was going to be furious, just as Garp had said. But more at herself than anyone.
Because Rosinante had insisted to them many times that tragedy would be the result if they didn’t keep you far enough from his brother’s influence.
You were only one of many topics that had come fast and desperate in those shorter and shorter phone calls before the end. But one that the marines would now be forced to face as their own failure once more.
——————————
You could walk again at last. But with that return of feeling also came terrible pain. Your thigh ached all the way to the bone, skin pulling against those makeshift, string sutures with every step. It was all you could do not to visibly limp as you’d walked past all those leering pirates on either side of you while you boarded Doflamingo’s ship.
Your head was still held high, rope dart weapon wrapped on one shoulder, and your long marine coat moving behind you in the last of that Scyllian breeze.
The characters on the back of your coat read boldly as “justice” in stark contrast to the struck through, smiling jolly roger now being hoisted above you to shadow the deck below.
The Donquixote pirates had concealed their ship’s true ownership when arriving. But there was now no further need for discretion, especially in the spectacle that this morning had already become.
No, you knew full well that Doflamingo wanted those reporters on the dock to document his victory while his banner flew proudly above your head. Every additional photo from their flashing cameras having to be something you chose to ignore as you did your best not to falter before so much public scrutiny.
But even you didn’t have the mental endurance right now to stay above deck for long after. As soon as you felt you’d put on enough of a show of indifference, and that the camera lenses were too far at last to reach you, you’d disappeared down the first set of stairs you’d found.
Down into the tight wooden hallways of someone else’s ship as you put your back to the wall and finally trembled.
Whether from mostly anger, or exhaustion, or still just plain shock, you couldn’t separate the emotions trying to overcome you anymore.
The pirates did keep their distance from you then at least. You suspected that they’d been strictly ordered to. No one following you into that dimly lit hallway but their captain himself.
The small space feeling all the more claustrophobic then as you looked up into those reflective red sunglasses while his large palm splayed on the wall above your head.
Pink feathers brushed against you in that closeness. His scent so apparent again as you tried not to stare at his bared chest from beneath the now open coat and shirt.
He was back in full form now, body heat radiating as he bent in enough to speak against your ear.
“You did well…I’m proud of you. But it’s enough now. No one’s going to hurt you here.” And yet even as he said that, his other hand was feeling up across your injured thigh.
You did wince without being able to help it at even that light pressure, and you heard Doflamingo’s resulting smile in those words which stayed contrastingly soft beside your ear. “My wounded little bird…come rest those wings with me. You have no reason to fly anymore.”
And you knew what he was going to do before he did it. He’d done this last night as well when helping you out of the ballroom when you still couldn’t walk.
You heard him chuckle too as your arms went around his neck instinctively this time. Making it easier on yourself to not be jostled as much while one of his arms went behind your knees and the other behind your back as he lifted you up to carry you the rest of the way down the hall.
All the way to the captain’s quarters as his strings had pulled the door handle down. His knee easily nudged the door open before he carried you across the threshold into his bedroom.
You heard the door shut and lock behind you almost immediately. Likely his strings doing it all now even as he kept carrying you straight to that oversized bed.
He clearly preferred these luxuries, even at sea as your back was finding his plush mattress soon after.
And he was still smiling, reveling in this really while you watched him push his sunglasses up as you now laid beneath him. He let those glasses rest in his blond hair, exposing his then prideful eyes so soon to you again before he leaned back down to kiss you.
You were absolutely done by then. You’d never slept last night. You’d never had a chance. Awake the entire time, arguing and then eventually pleading to Vice Admiral Momonga. You didn’t understand why nothing could be done. You knew Momonga had called Sengoku. That they had argued too. But nothing had changed.
All your things had still ended up offloaded from Momonga’s ship and handed over to actual pirates instead with the simple report that you were indeed being assigned to Dressrosa for now. Effective immediately and with Doflamingo gloating all the while as he had never left your side last night. He hadn’t slept either, just having his servants pack back up the villa that you’d only briefly gone back to to clean yourself and change before this walk of shame to port this morning.
And now here you were. In a bed with him all over again as he kissed and stroked you. But with a rare gentleness that you were sure was only temporary and brought on solely from his current high of success.
You’d let him slide that coiled rope dart right off your shoulder. Your weapon placed onto the nightstand before he’d untied and slid your boots off for you as well. Then kicking those curved black shoes off his own feet before he pulled his legs back up to further ensnare your body as you lay together.
With his arms holding you too, you disappeared a bit into all those soft feathers of his coat. But he kept his face against yours in the open air above all that pink. Still smiling even as he let his eyes already start to close.
“Sleep for now, love… We won. And we’ll be home soon.” The demon promised.
———————————
“Hey, what’s he doing now? He was the one telling us last night that we’d have to hurry before we’d miss the tide this morning!” The boy with the orca shaped hat exclaimed.
“I don’t know, he’s been staring at that stupid paper since we left him here earlier.” The other boy with the penguin hat answered.
They were fussing amongst themselves, struggling to carry all the supplies they’d purchased in town as they made their way back to the cove.
Their equally young, teenage captain was currently sitting on a rock near the water’s edge. The crew’s yellow submarine listing gently as high tide began to recede around it. This morning’s news coo paper still in his hands.
“Um, Captain?” The polar bear mink that had been walking beside the other two boys asked almost timidly next, sitting his own supplies he’d been carrying down into the sand before he moved forward.
Law’s eyes shifted, coldly glancing to the side at his friend as the bear approached.
Bepo squirmed immediately under that stare, but didn’t give up yet. “The tide’s going out…we won’t be able to clear the rocks if we wait…”
“I know that. It’ll be another twelve hours until the water’s deep enough again.” Law sighed at last, that stiffness in his shoulders breaking somewhat.
“Sooo…are we’re staying here then?” Penguin questioned with a head tilt.
“No, get in the damn submarine!” Law stood from off of the rock, the newspaper now rolled in his hand as if he might smack them with it.
“What are you so moody for!? We’re getting in the sub!” Penguin whined, nearly running into Shachi as they both clamored to get back onto the deck of the Polar Tang in such a rush now.
But Bepo held back, fidgeting a little as Law still stood there in the sand.
While the others loaded the vessel, the mink noticed how his captain had already unrolled that paper again. At least enough that even Bepo could now see the tall blond man in one of the main headline photos. That man’s eyes concealed by a red mask, but his smile entirely unsettling. At least to someone like Bepo as that man also held a woman’s hand who was so close to him in the photo.
“She looks afraid.” Bepo said before he could help himself. Noticing that detail too, even where someone else may not have. It looked like a nice, even loving picture of a couple otherwise. Except for the man’s off putting smile and the woman’s concerned eyes.
Law’s chest rose and fell, he looked to the ground a moment before staring back to the bear. “He’s the pirate I used to work for, Bepo. He’ll do anything to get what he wants. I’ve seen him do it.” Law’s voice actually even wavered there, just for a moment at least before that emotion was buried again.
Bepo’s dark eyes widened though, picking up on that too before a warm paw went onto his captain’s shoulder then.
For once, Law did allow that attempt at comfort too. Only bristling slightly, but not pulling away as he revealed even more. It was so rare for him to talk about his last pirate crew. Yet when he did, these negative feeling always tried to force their way out of him.
“I thought she looked familiar.” Law said. “But I saw her name and then it finally clicked. Corazon…the guy I told you about. He tried to help her too once. To keep her away from him. But Doflamingo always wins. Even after this long. Just like he got Dressrosa. Just like he got immunity with the government.”
Law sneered then as well, almost in a mirror to that strange smile from the photo in the paper in that moment. “What kind of karma is that, Bepo!? Why can someone like him just keep getting his way every time!? While people like Cora…they just disappear. They just get erased and forgotten!”
“But you didn’t forget Cora.” Bepo answered so sincerely then. Bravely really, and with no hesitation as Law stared at the mink in return.
Law scowled as his bottom lip shifted just a single time before he pulled away. As if it had wanted to quiver. “Yeah. I didn’t. But we’ve got a long way to go before I can do a thing about it.”
And he’d stormed off at that to help the others finish loading the submarine before the tide would leave them. Bepo then hurrying faithfully behind him as they regathered the stack of supplies now falling over into the sand.
——————————-
But later that same day, after the supplies had all been packed away and the course to the next town fully set, Law had still slipped back away from the other boys. Further into the submarine under just the excuse of sitting to practice his powers again.
They hadn’t even left the North Blue yet. They didn’t even have a real crew yet. Not in his critical mind at least. They were still just kids sailing around in this submarine that Wolf had gifted them.
Everything right now was just the very first building blocks to the dream Law had had…or the nightmare rather. The things he wanted to accomplish one day with this second life that Cora had given to him.
But he hadn’t been ready to feel these emotions again so soon, nor had he realized how raw it all still was for him. Not until the very moment he’d seen Doflamingo’s hungry grin on that newspaper this morning,
A monster that was still feeding on others even now, still taking, never sated as he only ruined one additional life after another. It was the same kind of destruction that Cora had given everything to spare Law from.
And as the boy sat there alone, making small rooms atop the table with the movements of his hand, that newspaper and its triggering images still lay before him.
There was finally a shine of wetness in Law’s eyes then, no one else to see it now before another flick of his fingers had that paper levitating before him. Just for a moment before he jerked those same fingers to have one of his pencils shooting right into the newspaper. It stabbed a hole straight through the throat of that man he still hated this intensely.
It was like being there all over again though. Law remembered exactly who you were now. It’s not that he particularly cared about you as an individual of course, you were just another victim in a sea of the same. But the difference to him, was how clearly your capture showcased Doflamingo’s true tenacity. That devil’s willingness to play the long game every time.
Because it’d been so long since Corazon had spoken of you. All that time that Doflamingo could have fully moved on to literally any other obsession with anyone else. But true insanity didn’t work that way. And Corazon had understood, and thereby feared that part of his brother more than anyone.
——————————
It had been several years ago. The Donquixote crew celebrating as they always did whenever narrowly escaping Vice Admiral Tsuru’s warship. Partaking in their usual routine once returning safely to their hideout in the North Blue.
But that night had still been different. Doflamingo had been different. The change even noticeable to Law. The young boy, pale and tired sitting on a torn blanket on the floor as he dismantled and cleaned each of the many guns one by one that the older crew members had handed off to him. His assigned task that Buffalo was supposed to assist him with, but somehow never did.
Baby 5 had been giggling, also skirting her normal post mission responsibilities, playing instead in one of the treasure boxes. One of the heavy chests that Senor Pink and Gladius had just dropped on the middle of the floor before they went back outside for more.
Law knew that Buffalo and Baby 5 often got additional leniency in exchange for the usefulness of their powers in battle. But Law had nothing like that. Just his brain and his aching hands, the amber lead spots larger on his skin every passing year as he still cleaned the guns dutifully.
Doflamingo himself was sitting in the leather armchair nearby. One glass of red wine after another downed. Not participating in any of that tedious manual labor of course, but smirking at Baby 5 all the same as she’d run over to him with a gold crown she’d found in all the loot even that quickly.
“Young master! This is for you!” She beamed, with some oversized, jeweled necklaces already hanging down her dress nearly to her knees as well while she offered the headpiece only to him.
That was when Law had first realized the odd mood the Donquixote leader was really in as he’d leaned down all the way, having to bend at his waist to bow his head enough for Baby 5 to crown him, her arms fully outstretched and on her tip toes as she did.
And once that crown was on his head, he cocked it slightly to the side intentionally, straightening back up with a grin as Baby 5 curtsied before him. “Your majesty!” She giggled again, then running back to the additional treasure boxes as Senor Pink and Gladius had returned with yet another one behind it.
Buffalo grew interested in all that gleaming gold too of course. The larger boy and Baby 5 starting to then bicker over some stupid antique coins they’d found, before they’d dropped them all and some went rolling.
Law was still most intent on their leader though, too used to the other children’s immaturity already. He had seen Doflamingo look over to Corazon next who was seated on the couch beside the master’s chair having a smoke.
“What do you think, little brother? Too much or not enough?” Doflamingo was outright fishing for compliments then, wine glass still sloshing in his other hand as he motioned to the crown.
But cigarette smoke was all that came out from the other Donquixote in a silent puff as usual, Corazon shrugging before stretching out his lanky legs across the floor without much opinion.
The pirate captain only looked somewhat disappointed at that lack of reaction, before an interruption of annoying laughter had both brothers looking back to the doorway anyway.
“Behehe! It really suits you, Doffy!” Trebol barged in then, with Diamante close enough behind him through the door. Something white was folded in Diamante’s hands. “But we’ve finished unloading the ship now, and we have one more surprise for you!” Trebol declared.
Of course Doflamingo’s eyes could not be seen beneath those red glasses. But Law had noticed the way Corazon’s eyes had instantly widened, if ever so briefly as that white fabric was unfurled from Diamante’s grip.
Doflamingo too had straightened up in his seat at the reveal however, cruel smile reforming across his face so instantaneously. “Oh? And who exactly did that get ripped away from?”
It was a marine coat. The standard issue, long and white. At least formerly white, with small blood stained holes and rips now marring it here and there. Particularly where one sleeve had partially separated at the shoulder.
“Well, Doffy, you’d told us you’d seen that girl again this morning. But only through the spyglass when she was with Tsuru.” Diamante now spoke, wearing a wide smile of his own from almost ear to ear. “Well, this afternoon while you were indeed occupied with Tsuru, we found the girl again on our own. They were trying to sneak up on us from behind. Between Trebol and a I, we were able to separate her from her colleagues.” At that, Diamante tossed the coat across the room in one smooth movement.
Doflamingo caught it easily, but still watching his officers.
“My apologies though.” Diamante added. “I did have her by the back. But she still slipped right out of it. She’s quite fast. We knew you’d still appreciate the trophy regardless though. But I assure you we won’t miss such an opportunity again.”
And even still being that much younger then, Law remembered the way his stomach had oddly turned as Doflamingo’s long fingers had probed through one of the bloody holes in that fabric, finger curling alongside his ever darkening smile. As the Donquixote captain’s head had tilted, he’d pumped his fingers briefly through that blood stained tear as well, as if in test. “So this is really hers?”
“It is.” Trebol assured, voice also different then in a way that had made Law completely forget the gun oil still in his hands.
Law almost spilled the bottle of that oil actually as Doflamingo had suddenly pressed that collar and the shoulders of the dirty coat to his face, taking an audible inhale of whatever scent may still remain from its owner.
Law had never seen a person actually do such a thing. And Corazon was staring as well as Doflamingo began to laugh, one fist still clutched into that coat as his white teeth gleamed in real pleasure.
His laugh was loud and shaking up from within that deep place those most intense ones came from. Enough so that even Baby 5 and Buffalo had finally stopped their bickering, silencing as they looked to the young master.
“Well done. All of you.” Doflamingo finally managed. And he’d spread his legs as he leaned back in the chair, yet another glass of wine soon down his throat as he let that coat lay across his lap.
His cheeks were actually slightly flushed by then, whether from the intense laughter or all the alcohol. He was not himself.
At least not the Doflamingo that Law had long learned to both respect and fear as Corazon had also seemed uncomfortable, watching his brother as well.
Staring enough that Doflamingo had finally looked back to Corazon. Those red lenses reflecting the light, some other king’s crown still caught in his spiked blond hair.
“Don’t be so judgmental, Corazon…don’t you want your brother to be happy?” And there was still an edge to those words, almost a challenge.
And suddenly Doflamingo had stood. He grabbed the wine bottle itself as he did. Not the glass. He turned that entire bottle up, his adam’s apple moving up and down with the sound of the remaining liquid leaving the bottle as he drank every last drop.
He left the empty bottle as it fell. Just the coat was still in his hand as he walked, but his other hand grabbing Corazon by the back of the neck as Doflamingo had passed behind the couch.
Corazon did nothing to fight back, nor did he react with any surprise. Still smoking his cigarette as he tilted his head back for them to then look at one another as Doflamingo loomed over him.
“Tsuru thinks I won’t have that girl…but I will. And you two can both be wrong together then.” He was smiling wide again, before he leaned down. That cruel mouth nearly against his younger brother’s ear before he whispered something else into it.
Law could only watch as Corazon’s breathing stilled at whatever those words were, an unreadable look in the Donquixote officer’s red eyes before that moment had passed just as quickly.
Doflamingo then shoved Corazon abruptly by the neck as he rose back to his full height. Seemingly just taunting his little brother all the more. But rough enough as Corazon, clumsy as he was anyway, nearly fell forward off of the couch. Embers dropped from his cigarette to sear little spots into the top of his pants.
And Doflamingo just watched as his only blood family tried to sit back up and brush off those hot embers simultaneously before they could burn him.
“I’m going to bed.” The captain did announce to everyone though, pulling at his pants a little as he did, like they were bothering him. His face still seemed somewhat flushed. “You all do whatever the fuck you want.”
“But it’s only nine.” Buffalo said somewhat stupidly. Normally all their drinking and eating after successful missions went well into the night.
“He didn’t say he was going to sleep.” Diamante grinned.
None of the kids understood this part of it then.
But Doflamingo only chuckled, truly a little drunk by then and fully unashamed as he carried that coat with the marine girl’s blood and scent on it into his bedroom and slammed the door.
Corazon had stood up not long after as well, looking somewhat stricken still and flashing a piece of paper to the room that said he was going out for a walk.
Law had ended up following him too. Not immediately of course, but long enough after. When the other adults were too drunk to give a damn where anyone else might disappear off to.
Things had already started to change between himself and Corazon by then. Corazon knew about the D. in his name. And Law knew that Corazon could actually speak.
So when he did find the younger Donquixote, far from the hideout and sitting on a pile of scrap metal in the moonlight, Law hadn’t wasted any time.
“What the hell is going on with the captain? He was being weird all day.” The boy fussed abruptly.
And Corazon had immediately startled, nearly dropping his cigarette as he glared back to Law.
But he also saw Corazon look around. Very carefully in fact before suddenly the ocean waves in the distance could no longer be heard.
“Is everybody else passed out already then?” Corazon still spoke low, even while using his devil fruit power.
“Well yeah, I’m not stupid.” Law retorted, the chip on his own shoulder still so big at that time in his life.
“Strongly disagree.” Corazon deadpanned anyway, taking another drag on his cigarette. “You wouldn’t be out here otherwise, kid.”
And of course Law snapped right back, more of that young petulance front and center. “Well you’re out here! So you’re as dumb as anyone!”
And that painted smile had spread a little there. Corazon looking down at him again. This time, not hardly as cold. “Heh. You don’t know the half of it.” But he did flick his cigarette, letting some of the ash fall before he put that bad habit right back up to his lips.
He mustn’t have felt like arguing right now though. He’d looked more tired than normal even for Corazon. “And as I know you won’t damn go to bed until you’re satisfied…fine. Let’s talk. The answer is that my big bro is having a rough day today. He’s got marriage on his mind.”
“What!?” Law had stammered immediately.
Loud and abrupt enough that Corazon had almost dropped his cigarette again. “Stop doing that!”
“Then stop saying stupid things! Our captain’s not going to marry anybody! Did you fall and hit your head again, Corazon!?”
“Well…maybe. But calm the hell down! Trust me, that word has an entirely different meaning for Doffy. It’s not a nice thing.”
“Huh?”
And Corazon sighed. “Look, do you swear you’ll go back inside and go to bed if I tell you this? You need to quit damn worshipping him anyway. Maybe you’ll start to believe me for once.”
“Okay, I swear.” Law had just said without hesitation.
“Quit holding your fingers behind your back you little jerk.”
“I wasn’t!” Law lied.
Corazon rolled his eyes. “You’re too young to understand anyway. But my brother doesn’t just like things. He owns them. He controls them. And if he really likes something, then hell…it’s over.”
“What?”
“See! You are just a dumb kid!”
“I am not! It’s not my fault you can’t explain anything for crap!”
And Corazon groaned. “Okay. I’ll give you an example. Your parents were both doctors right? So you know how bodies work? ….But have you ever held a bird? Especially a really small one? Did you know they don’t have a diaphragm?”
Law’s eyebrows had lowered in more confusion. But yes…he actually did know that from old biology lessons. But he was shocked that Corazon would. And he still didn’t understand how it had anything to do with the topic at hand.
“Well what happens to something without a diaphragm if you put pressure on its chest?” Corazon asked next.
And Law did have to think about it, just still completely caught off guard in the random turns of this conversation. He knew exactly what the muscle of the diaphragm did. It was used for expansion and contraction of the chest, allowing the lungs to inhale and exhale.
But birds used a combination of air sacs with rib movements to achieve similar if he remembered right. But without the strength of a diaphragm, the force they had available to expand their own chest would be much less. So he quickly reasoned that a strong enough external pressure would stop that movement completely. They’d be helpless.
“It…wouldn’t be able to breathe?” Law answered, still unsure if this was the pieces he was supposed to connect.
And Corazon did blink. “Yeah…I guess you’re not so dumb after all.”
But before Law could fully react to that additional teasing, Corazon had looked far more serious.
It was an expression that actually made Law nervous again. Because both of the Donquixote brothers had a similar way their facial muscles stilled when they were really considering something.
And it was intimidating. Even on someone like Corazon.
But the man had already seemed to make up his mind to say even more though as he eventually kept on. “Well, we weren’t always pirates you know. When we were just kids, we did have some pets. I guess that wasn’t too weird compared to everything else. But Doffy had a favorite. See…our mother had these birds, swans actually. And then those birds had babies. But only one liked Doffy. This little black one that never bit him.”
And Corazon sighed then, fully putting out what was left of his cigarette as he shoved the butt into the dirt beneath the scrap metal pile. His broad shoulders had sank somewhat. “So can you guess what happened to that little bird, kid?”
Law just stared for a moment, but finally nodded. Corazon’s somber body language making it all too clear as Law watched the man stand then.
But somehow Law still felt like he had to say it out loud. Because this was the lesson that Corazon had wanted him to understand. The only reason all of this was being confessed at all.
“He held it too hard…he killed it.” Law spoke into the darkness.
And Corazon’s eyes were pained. Proving that this conversation was also about far more than a child’s one time mistake. “And he’s never learned since.” The lanky man replied before he had started to walk, Law still following behind him as he did.
It wasn’t really a conscious thing yet to want to stay together. Neither of them fully realizing that shift in allegiance already beginning in the boy.
“Hey, Corazon…” Law did look back up at him after a while too.
“Yeah?”
“What did your brother whisper to you back there to make you run off? You looked really weird when you heard it.”
And Corazon scoffed. “I already told you. He’s got the future on his mind. He thinks he needs to check some certain boxes once we’re in the New World. And she’s one of those boxes. You really don’t want to know what the rest was about though. Let’s just say it must be flamingo breeding season whenever she’s around and leave it at that.”
“Ew! That’s gross! You’re not supposed to tell me that!” Even then Law was pretty sure you weren’t that much older than him. And he did know how reproduction actually occurred. He knew in the context of old medical textbooks at least.
“Well then don’t ask! That’s your wonderful leader, kid.”
The now former leader who was still smiling this many years later, so disconcerting in that newspaper as Law continued to glower down at his pierced photo in the present day.
And the more Law stared at that image of you and Doflamingo, the more he realized that the black feathers in the mask you wore were the same as a little bird’s who had stopped moving within a child’s hand once.
The same black feathers that had been stained with so much blood in the snow as Corazon had also taken his last breath.
Doflamingo was now on his third black swan.
———————————
Something was tickling your cheek as you finally opened your eyes and lifted your head slightly within the feathers.
The haze of sleep was slow to recede as you tried to get your bearings.
A heavy arm was over your back. Those pink feathers encircling you as you tried to silently blow away the loose one that had landed on your face.
It all carried his scent. Those expensive colognes you hated to admit as already becoming so used to. He didn’t always wear the same one. But you could pick any of them out immediately by now.
And you assumed you’d see those bicolored eyes of his watching you hungrily as always when you’d finally glanced up from your place against his warm chest.
But you did pause at the view that met you instead this time.
Doflamingo’s eyes were closed, lean face relaxed. His lips were parted as he breathed audibly, deep and steady. The red sunglasses were still barely hanging on in his hair where he’d left them, completely skewed now and almost endearing in that lack of care.
He was absolutely out.
And you could not stop staring, a bit in awe at how truly different he looked this way.
One of your hands was still on his chest as you realized in this new stillness that you could even feel his heartbeat beneath your splayed palm.
You bit your lip slightly in your further odd reaction, the responding warmth and tightness in your own chest making little sense.
Of course he had a heart to move his blood around. Of course he couldn’t hold those face muscles into a look of cruelty even in his sleep.
But he looked younger like this. He looked like a man that would have had real friends. A man that would have woken with a real smile for you. A man who never would have hurt you.
An extremely pretty lie once more.
Gently, you removed those sunglasses from his hair regardless, sitting them quietly on the nightstand before they would fall to the mattress. You sat those infamous glasses on top of your weapon there beside the bed. Not missing the significance of those barriers both being set aside willfully now.
And you laid back down as gently as you could afterward. His bare chest still your unexpected refuge while his rhythmic breathing never changed.
It should have made you even angrier, that he could do so much to you and still sleep this soundly. No guilt to be had in him at all.
But it was far more complicated than just this. He was both the cause and the relief to so much pain as your eyes had soon closed again.
——————————
The transponder snails in his quarters must have all been put on do not disturb that morning. Because you and that warlord did sleep half the day together like that.
The first thing you’d remembered next was him finally stretching. That warm torso you were still pressed against tensing and then relaxing again as you felt large hands starting to roam over you. It felt like he was checking how much clothing you were still wearing actually.
Which was all of it. Both of you had only taken off your shoes before passing out here. And you did contemplate feigning like you were still asleep to see how much longer he would leave you alone.
But it was quickly pointless. A hand was then beneath your marine coat and starting to tug your skirt down from your hip already as you grabbed his wrist in response.
Your injured thigh was still so sensitive of course. You were trying to protect it as your sudden movement did earn a chuckle from him. “Relax. I’m not going to open up your wound…though you wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d quit trying to save every brat you come across.” He both greeted and chided you simultaneously as you’d awoken.
“They were going to kill her.” You argued, albeit without much bite to it yet as you were still not fully awake.
“Maybe…probably.” He smiled at your lingering sleepy tone. “But it happens every day, love. Much easier just to focus on your own family going forward and leave it at that.”
And you felt your skirt being pushed up then instead. Him changing the tactic slightly, but still clear on his intent to get that fabric out of his way. “I still think you’d like one of your own.” He said next though. Voice just as taunting while his fingers were now playing with the sides of your underwear.
“I already have a family,” you said plainly, but still not really looking at him.
“I don’t mean our crews and you know it.” His tone darkened some at that, his grin back all at once as his hands grabbed you by the arms.
And before you could fully process, he had pulled you even closer to bury his face into the collar of your white marine coat. Fully into the fabric while you heard him breathe you in.
The sound was like an animal, catching onto a scent it so desperately wanted more of. And he stilled for that moment, only breathing in your body and warmth. Like your coat itself was triggering him as much as anything. Stirring up something even older as his voice finally came out again, albeit far more stressed. “Have I told you how very many times I’ve wanted to rip this uniform right off of you…”
You cursed though as he bit your fucking coat without warning after, right over your chest. That switch in him had flipped again. Something you had yet to learn to fully predict.
The pressure from his jaw still badly pinched your soft breast even underneath the two layers of fabric. His saliva coming off that long tongue as he only released the bite long enough to move your coat further open.
And when it was, he then had that wet maw back on just your shirt instead. He was sucking your breast even through the thin fabric. Bra also be damned as one of his hands did reach under your shirt to roughly push those cups up and out of the way before he bit down yet again.
“No.” He said, short and harsh then. Lifting his mouth just enough to scold you as you’d tried to of course push his face back away at the pain. “This is what I need….I’ve thought of the day I could really bring you home. I’ve wanted it so much…”
And you couldn’t possibly understand.
But that already growing bulge was tightening behind the bright capris pants as he pushed his still clothed erection between your legs next.
Your shirt was now sticking, wet over your breast as he started gradually thrusting as well. Almost fucking you without actually fucking you as your hands gripped into his hair in the growing pain.
If he thought this was somehow less rough than the real thing, he was fully wrong. All that pressure on top of your wounded leg, and against the bruises from bullets that had never pierced your skin. It was almost intolerable.
But he was spiraling quickly into his own problems, his own memories regardless. With his tongue then fully hanging out, he’d now jerked your underwear down your legs.
Your skirt was already bunched up around your waist. While the tented front of his pants ground against your then exposed slit as he groaned, tongue only briefly receding with his additional words.
“Why do you always do this to me…” He questioned, real irritation forming in that odd tone as his fingers started to claw at the drawstrings of his waistband all the same. Like he just wanted to shred them too in his growing impatience. “Fucking making me so hard it hurts…then goddamn running away all those times. I hated it so much.”
And he had risen back up, your hands falling away from him as he used both his own to pull his pants down. Open and loose around his ass then as his already precum smeared cock moved out into the air.
You made a pitiful sound of course as that wide head of it was immediately being drug between your folds instead. He had his hand around his shaft as he pressed the tip of himself against your clit and started so roughly rubbing the two against one another.
“You know how often I had to pump this goddamn cock for you?” He still asked, sounding angrier all the while. Even as he was edging your entrance and stroking his own shaft simultaneously. “I wanted you…but you started fucking marines instead. So I had to go fuck so many nobodies and a goddamned prick who still backstabs me every chance he gets.”
And you were starting to pant, hurting so badly as he was no longer paying any attention to his weight on your wounds while he straddled and berated you with this escalating nonsense.
“I didn’t even know you then!” You finally yelled back at him.
“And whose fault was that!? I was waiting for you!” He just snapped in return, just as he did push inside of you, making you cry out as always as you stretched.
But he still laughed even on top of that, starting to pump his hips as his hands grabbed tightly to your body beneath him. His fingernails dug in for purchase as he started fucking you harder and harder.
“Regardless…we’ve still got to make up for lost time…Scylla was just the beginning. You owe me so much more.” He hissed, the bed shaking in rhythm with his pounding into you.
That pink feather coat was still over his shoulders. Enveloping the two of you on either side as his animalistic drive showed no hint of slowing.
You were outright gasping in pain, and it was only encouraging him.
But the thing that finally put you over the edge was when you felt a new wetness beneath your leg. Warm and red as those string stitches gave up at last.
He had broken his word and done exactly what he’d said he would not do. Too rough, too needy, too much all at once.
The blood was pooling to stain your white coat still beneath you as your body then reacted on its own accord. His mind was too far gone in this current tangent, seemingly needing to torture you for crimes you couldn’t even know.
So you snapped on him in return.
Your fist slammed into Doflamingo’s bare abdomen so incredibly hard. Compressing it violently, with haki crackling out even the other side of his back as he had not had a single defense ready for you.
The gasp that came out of him was full of spit and even bile from his stomach as he crumpled forward.
His cock was still inside you as time seemed to stop. But the way his body reflexively pulled in on itself, and the way his arms came up defensively with his head ducked beneath them was still something you’d never seen from him before.
Because his mind hadn’t known he was in danger, he’d had no warlord level fight response ready. By surprising him that fully, you’d seen almost a cowering posture if for just that single instant in that man.
A body language you knew immediately as you’d experienced it in the past yourself. In that single moment, you actually saw the muscle memory from someone who’d been beaten before. An abuse survivor who’d grown into an abuser themselves.
That final thought weighed heavy in your mind before time restarted.
Strings jerked your arms viciously, holding them away so hard that your joints burned. Burned and stretched so that you could not possibly block before his own strike came down across the side of your face from his hand. The sound of the crack echoing through the room as you spit blood over the pillowcase.
You swallowed reflexively, moving nothing else but your eyes as you stared back up at him then panting above you.
Spit and the smallest bit of vomit was on his chin, his eyes wide and staring down at you.
But then he’d seen it at last. The red growing beneath you both on the bed.
——————————
Doflamingo was still in shock, mind trying to catch up when he realized how wet his leg really felt. For the briefest moment he’d thought you’d somehow stabbed him as well. He truly didn’t understand.
Arousal and adrenaline and confusion were all one big knot in his mind as he still felt like he needed to puke from the force of that surprise uppercut straight into his guts.
And by comparison, you were calm. Lying motionless beneath him even after all of this. As hard as he’d hit you in return, your eyes were still clear and sharp. You were waiting for him to catch up on the situation. One animal watching another.
And finally he did have that higher moment of clarity.
“Goddammit,” he breathed at last, wiping the mess from his own chin with the back of his hand. That adrenaline which had been burning through his chest then changing to a more complicated feeling once again when he realized what he had done.
He’d misjudged his strings’ longevity on another person’s body was what it came down to. The makeshift sutures’ hold was apparently not as good when on anyone else but the String-String user themselves.
It wasn’t like he ever did this for others to really know any better though. His strings were for cutting down foes, not for mending his treasure.
And all he could do right now was replace them. Fresh strings as he ran his fingers over your wound yet again, smearing that new blood as he laced you back together. He’d just have to keep changing them until reaching Dressrosa now. He didn’t have a good enough doctor on board to handle this otherwise
Not one that he’d trust you to anyway.
And only when the blood flow had stopped again did he finally look back to your face. You still watched him quietly with blood staining down your chin. Some had even run to drip onto your throat and chest.
He hadn’t held back when he’d hit you.
And the composure you maintained, even with his strings glistening tight against your arms and all that blood remaining across your leg and down your chin made it impossible for him to lose his erection. He hadn’t even pulled fully out.
“I didn’t keep my word.” Doflamingo finally admitted however, still hard as anything between his legs as he watched you below him.
But his desire couldn’t be overstated. Every memory, every need, and all the times he’d laid awake fucking his own hand or whatever remnants he could find of you while just thinking of tearing you down one day. That had stayed with him so much more than even he had realized.
You were a fantasy become real. He didn’t know what else to do.
“I felt it ripping open…I just reacted.” Was what you said at last though. Not emotional, not accusing, just telling him why you’d done what you did.
And he did smirk at your straight forward approach. Oh, you were absolutely still a wounded little bird to him. But you now had so violently just reminded him that this little bird would still bite.
You were so unlike the random, pretty strangers that normally passed through his bed and cowered all the while. But also different than the indefinite danger of conquests like Crocodile who may “bite” him the entire encounter unless properly muzzled.
You were a blend somewhere in between those two extremes. Soft enough that he would still trust sleeping beside you and offering you his blind side. Because somehow he did know that you didn’t actually loathe him by now. And you had that core code of honor as well still dictating your every life choice.
But you were also hard enough that there was still a line there somewhere that he would have to keep exploring. A boundary in you that when crossed, his little bird would absolutely turn and try to take a piece out of him.
Yes, everything happening now was actually only cementing his belief in having made the correct choice to take you with him at last.
And as that heat pulled back into his chest, he moved his hand again. Releasing you from his strings that he knew you’d still been using haki to not be cut by.
You must be in a lot of pain right now.
“I can finish without pressing down on you…” He assured again.
His stomach still hurt as well as he slowly began to pump in and out of you once more, albeit actually controlling himself this time even as he smiled through the pain. His thighs he spread wide enough so that they were not against you any longer as he held his weight off of your body as well. Only his cock was still sliding in and out of you in a near gentle rhythm.
“We’re both going to cum, lover…and then we’re going to have a warm bath together.” He said as his newest promise. One he could actually keep this time as his thumb moved affectionately back over your clit.
He knew you wouldn’t be able to stand up long in the shower right now. So drawing a bath after this was the very inviting alternative. His quarters had both options.
And he didn’t fucking care if sitting too deep in the bathwater would make him feel weak by the curse of his devil fruit. He still wanted the privilege of doing it with you. He wanted to be the one to wipe away that blood that he’d made you spill, and almost tenderly clean his mate for the spotlight that would surely now be awaiting you both in Dressrosa.
———————————
T⨂ BE
CONTINUED
———————————
Thanks for reading!
#doflamingo x reader#doflamingo x y/n#doflamingo x you#doffy x y/n#doffy x you#doffy x reader#one piece x y/n#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece fanfiction#one piece smut#donquixote doflamingo#doflamingo#doflamingo one piece#op doflamingo#doflamingo’s marine
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Total Eclipse Of The Heart (Part 12 : The Untethering)
Summary: Jacob Black, alpha of his pack, would never fall in love with a bloodsucker, much less imprint on one. The problem is that Y/N Swan was human…until she wasn’t anymore.
Warning: Suggestive scenes, proceed with caution.
Series Masterlist
The first week in Alaska is spent wrapped up in each other.
“I love you so much, Jacob.” She tells him, like a broken record. “I love you.”
He doesn’t remember much of anything else for those first few days. Just her. Her arms around him, her fingers in his hair. His never ending plea, “bite me.”
“We shouldn’t.” Y/N reminds him, that’s what got them here.
“Please.” Jacob never stills, restless and ready to come out of his skin. Let me be useful to you.
“Jacob, you are everything to me.” Y/N cups his face, “you’re irreplaceable. You don’t need to give me anything else.”
He pins those same gentle hands above her head, kissing Y/N rough and punishing. Stroking his thumb over the charm bracelet at her wrist. “It’s not enough.” He wants to give until there is nothing left of him.
“Jacob,” she tugs against his hold.
“Shh,” he hushes her, pupils blown, out of his mind. “Don’t do that, honey. Gonna make me phase and we’ll spend the day putting you back together.” Relax.
Y/N’s eyes roll back in her head.
He traces her lips, opening her mouth slightly, skating the pad of his index finger across her teeth. “So pretty.” He doesn’t mind her icy skin, her rigid limbs or her perfect teeth, made to sink into his neck. I love you.
Her heart aches, feeling the weight of his emotions and her own. I’m dying.
“I’m gonna make it better.” Jacob promises, “make it all go away.”
Y/N nods.
“But you have to listen to me.” Jacob insists.
Her chest heaves, sucking in an unnecessary breath to elevate her discomfort. “I can’t.” I can’t risk it, I can’t hurt you.
This is not your fault. “This would’ve happened anyway.”
The world narrows before exploding into a kaleidoscope of color.
Y/N sees Jacob, every version of him to exist dances before her eyes. Past and present all tangled into one.
A piece of paper, something they signed in blood, with shaking hands and tears in their eyes, while inhabiting other bodies. A promise, an agreement, tying their souls together. Y/N comes back to herself, to the vessel over which she reigns.
Jacob is panting, his head resting against her chest.
“Jake?" Y/N whispers, he'll always be Jacob to her. No matter the long list of names she's called him before.
"Are you ok?" He asks.
"I think so." She nods, "are you?"
————————————————————————-
The second week is better, Jacob doesn’t fight sleep and Y/N returns all her missed calls from back home.
Where are you?
When will you be back?
Are you ok?
Is Jacob is ok?
He is now and that’s all that matters.
Their escape from reality comes to an end a few days later.
“I can’t hold you hostage here forever, honey.” Jacob sighs. “Charlie is worried, I know Ness and Bella miss you.”
“I’m sure they’re doing just fine without me.”
Jacob knocks her shoulder. “I need to get back to the pack.”
“Are you sure you’re ok to go home?” Y/N whispers.
“I feel better now.” Jacob assures her, “I’m me again. You don’t need to worry.”
“I worry about you, Jacob. The other…stuff doesn’t bother me.” She’ll hardly complain if he drags her back here again to blow off steam.
He presses a kiss to her forehead, “let’s go home.”
————————————————————————
Y/N goes back to Charlie’s, spending the afternoon with her father. Attempting to explain what happened although she isn’t sure herself.
“I love ya,” is all Charlie says. “No matter what. I’m glad you’re back.” He pulls her in for a hug.
“I love you too, dad.” Y/N is careful not to squeeze him too hard. Her cell phone buzzes to life, causing them to break apart. “I need to-”
“Go,” Charlie shoos her away, turning his attention back to the game.
Y/N hurries up to her room, closing the door behind her. “Hello?”
“Y/N, it’s Sam.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Jacob is-” Sam’s voice is cut off by a tortured howl.
“Is that him?” Y/N chokes out.
“We delivered some news, he’s not taking it well.” Sam says, between gritted teeth. More whining and howling. “I think it’s best if you come.”
“Is he hurt?” Y/N is out the door, sprinting towards the reservation.
“Not physically, no. We’ll be waiting at Billy’s.” Sam ends the call.
Y/N arrives within minutes, greeted by the fur of the reddish brown wolf. He looks fine. “Jacob, what’s wrong?”
He lowers his head onto his paws at her feet.
Y/N kneels down in the dirt. “It’s ok.” She strokes a hand along his back. The muscles of which twitch with his uneven breath. “It’s ok.” She wishes she could hear him again, it’d come in handy at times like this.
He noses at her, whining low in his throat.
Y/N tries not to think about this much, what she is, what he is…what they are. As long as Y/N and Jacob exist somewhere inside the blood drinking demon and the giant wolf, she doesn’t have to think about it. But the painful truth is hard to ignore when she’s trying to envelop his towering stature with her icy arms and she can’t even hug him properly.
Jacob returns to his human form, curling around Y/N without a word.
“What happened?” She demands.
“Give me a minute, ok?” Jacob murmurs, brushing his lips against hers. “This isn’t really a conversation I want to have with you naked.”
Y/N nods, desperate to lighten the mood. “You’re right, I could get distracted.”
Jake chuckles, despite himself, “that’s not what I’m worried about.”
Sam tosses a pair of briefs and shorts down from Billy’s porch.
“Thank you,” Y/N waves. Now left to wonder how long he’s been standing there.
Sam gives a curt nod, retreating into the house.
Y/N rises to her feet, brushing dried grass from her jeans. Waiting for Jacob to finish getting dressed.
“We should go in.” Jake reaches for her hand. Crossing the threshold of his childhood home to find Sam and Billy seated at the table.
“Wanna tell me what the hell’s going on?” Y/N arches a brow.
“Sam saw what happened in Denali.” Jacob explains, resting a hand on her back.
Y/N averts her eyes. Oh.
“Apparently, the agreement we signed before we were us, is still valid.”
“What do you mean?” Y/N can’t remember what it said. This whole reincarnation thing is becoming a pain in the ass.
"It's a very old practice.” Sam explains, “I had to do some heavy lifting on our end to get any information and Billy was looking into it for years before that.”
“You knew about this?” Jacob turns to his father in disbelief.
"I had a hunch."
“And you didn’t say anything?”
Billy square his shoulders, "this is heavy, Jacob. I hoped you wouldn't have to carry it."
"So what does it mean?" Y/N asks.
“There was a treaty forged by the elders of our tribe, after making some powerful enemies. The war was long, fought until neither side had anything left to bargain with. The chief's son and the opposing tribe leader's daughter entered into an agreement, binding their blood and their souls. This covenant brought years of peace and prosperity. They built a better life on the ashes of what had been.” Billy presses on.
“These souls are called upon in times of peril, to ensure the survival of our tribe.” Sam begins pacing behind Billy’s chair.
"So all of this happened because of something we were forced into centuries ago.” Jacob spits.
“I’m sorry this happened, truly, I am. But telling you sooner wouldn’t have changed anything.” Billy says, “I wanted you to have a normal life together, to be kids. Who didn’t have to worry about the pack, the tribe, the contract-”
“You could’ve given me a heads up. Maybe I could’ve saved her!” Jacob seethes, “I would’ve had the pack run patrols, I would’ve made sure she was safe and I sure as hell wouldn’t have taken her to the movies that night.”
“Listen to yourself!” Billy slams his fist against the table. “Do you think that would’ve made her happy?”
“I don’t know about happy, but atleast she’d be alive!”
“Y/N is still here, Jacob. She’s not dead and neither are you.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
Y/N crosses both arms over her chest.
“I’m allowed to be upset when she gets hurt.”Jacob growls. “She was writhing in agony for three days and there was nothing I could do. Now her throat is on fire anytime she’s in the same room as a human. You don’t get to tell me how to feel about watching the person I love suffer! You act like I’m supposed to be grateful for it. She’s my-” lover, enemy, soulmate. “She’s my best friend.”
Billy lowers his gaze at the sound of his son’s voice breaking.
“Jacob, I’m ok.” Y/N reaches for him.
Jacob wraps his arms around her.
“I promise.”
His hand fists in her hair, clinging to her. She is fine, he can feel it, the only lingering upset is because of his pain.
Y/N rubs circles into his back.
“You weren’t mine to bargain with, I would never have agreed to this. This was signed in blood before you were born.” Billy says, “I swear to you, there was nothing you or anyone else could have done to prevent this. I couldn’t undo it, I couldn’t protect you from it…I tried.”
The room is silent.
“The imprint is what’s been throwing us off.”
“Why?” Y/N tries to peek over Jacob’s shoulder.
“If two souls are already bound, imprinting would be unnecessary.” Sam tells them. “I’ve come to the conclusion that it might be your spin on things.”
“So we do get some control over our own lives.”
“Think of it as traveling to a marked destination on the map, there’s more than one way to reach it. But you’re always going to get where you’re going.”
“And where are we going?” Jacob turns with Y/N still in his arms.
She sighs, resigned to her fate facing away from the other occupants of the room.
“The tribes agreed to bind their blood, there’s only one way to do that.” A child.
That’s why…that’s why Jacob wanted to…that’s why he- “screw the treaty.”
“Jacob,” Billy shakes his head.
“We’re not having a kid to fulfill a contract, I won’t do it.” Jacob wants to have a baby with Y/N, if and when she wants to. Not because of or for anyone else. For her, to have a family with her.
“Jacob, look at her.” Sam throws up a hand.
Jacob pulls back enough to really see Y/N. Her eyes are different, now a dark purple color, from the weeks she spent drinking only from him. “She’s fine.”
“Listen.” Sam clenches his jaw.
Jacob closes his eyes, listening carefully to the sound of her heartbeat.
Her heart doesn’t beat.
Part 13
Series Taglist: @vxidnik @remembered-license @itscheybaby @cole22ann @the-tryhard-twihard @zheezs14 @adaydreamaway08 @xcastawayherosx @moneteguiza @stinkii-boii @theatrechic26 @sylum @irrelevant-86
#total eclipse of the heart#jacob twilight#jacob black x reader#jacob black x y/n#jacob black x vampire reader#jacob black x you#jacob black imagine#jacob black fanfiction#jacob black#twilight x you#twilight imagine#twilight fanfiction#twilight
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And now, i gladly present my incorrect quotes for SVSSS
LB: *walking into SQQ’s room* “shizun please see to it that-“
*room is empty except for a shriveled up mushroom on the bed*
LB: “…shizun?” *turns to maid* “where’s my husband?”
•meanwhile, in the Holy Mausoleum•
SQQ: *wakes up in his original body* “…IM BACK IN THIS FUCKING BODY AGAINNN?!?!? OH MY GOD.”
SQQ: *thinking* i may not be the straightest guy but i am straight…
system: *INSANELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER*
SQQ: WTF??? SYSTEM I AM NOT GAY??
system: *ANOTHER EVEN LOUDER INCORRECT BUZZER*
SQQ: SYSTEM STOP IM NOT GAY??!!
System: *ANOTHER LOUDER INCORRECT BUZZER*
SQQ: SYSTEM IM NOT GAY
system: “OOC!! OOC!!! -500 B-POINTS” *INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE*
SQQ: *tears streaming down face*
basically svsss:
SQQ: i didn't want to eat with him, but i didn't have a choice…i would’ve lost 5k b-points if i declined.
LB: “you look nice shizun…”
SQQ: “fuck you.” but it’s true…i do look nice. the system forced me to wear a beautiful gown that was just my size…skinny..but i missed my old rags. they smelled like bald donkey shit, but they were mine… *he looks down at his food* “you’ve probably poisoned it” *he says sassily*
LB: *takes a bite to prove he hasn’t*
SQQ: *tries it* damn! the food tastes just as good as it looks…which makes me angry..i don’t need his homemade food!
LB: *smirks at SQQ*
SQQ: he smirks at me, an evil, sexy, evil, sexy, smirk that shows off his pecs..UGH!! i CANT keep thinking like this!! he LITERALLY kidnapped me!!! i don't need him, or his fancy evil castle, or his homemade food, or OP-ness, or plot-armor, or the fact that they brushed my hair for the first time in five years!
and now some cumplane antics
*cumplane doing karaoke*
SQH: “OH FUCK ITS IN KOREAN!!”
SQQ: “oh my god do you know-“
SQH: “SHIT-“ *disney knees stance* “외로운 날들이여 모두 다 안녕 내 마음속의 눈물들도 이제는 안녕 !! (^_-)-☆”
SQQ: “WHAT THE FUCK?!”
SQQ: *telling SQH what happened at the water prison*
SQH: “yk what it’s giving?”
SQQ: “hm?”
SQH: “it’s giving wattpad”
*both start dying of laughter*
SQH: “so i’ve been talking to mobei-jun for a couple of weeks and i think i’m ready to ask him out”
SQQ: “i mean that’s cool that you wanna go out with him but…i heard that he only likes guys with blonde hair like-”
SQH: *hair is now blonde*
SQQ: “…bro.”
SQH: “i-i’m just chillin (·ิω·ิ)”
SQQ: “nah like how are you gonna change your entire self for a man bro like-“
SQH: “bro..he has..a hot…brother”
SQQ: *hair is also blonde now*
SQH: ( ·ิ-·ิ) …
SQQ: “see that’s a different story..”
SQH: “that’s what i’m sayin (๑·̀ㅂ·́)و✧”
airplane bro: *creates origami swan*
Shen qingqiu: “oh what’s that? can i see it?”
AB: *hands it to him* “it’s a paper swan ^_^” *clearly very proud of it*
SQQ: *smashes it and tears it up and sets it on fire* “a dead paper swan.”
AB: *tears stream down face*
*the sun gets blocked out for SQQ… it’s Mobei-Jun*
*the sun gets blocked out for MJ… it’s Luo Binghe*
Thank you for your time.
#mxtx svsss#svsss shen qingqiu#svsss#svsss shitpost#svsss luo binghe#svsss shang qinghua#svsss mobei jun#cumplane#svsss crack#svsss incorrect quotes#incorrect quotes#binqiu#mobei jun#shen qingqiu#shang qinghua#luo binghe#scum villian self saving system#scum villain#scumbag system#scumbag self saving system#scumbag villain#mxtx
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Like a Rookie
Rengoku Shinjuro x GN! Reader
Officer Rengoku is a regular in the coffee shop you work at.
Tags: fluff, flirting, modern AU, young police officer Shinjuro (thus OOC)
Word count: 0,7k
Masterlist
AN: Written as birthday piece for Rengoku Shinjuro. He doesn't have an official birthday date, but I have accepted @/shinjuro-rengoku-ask's HC (23rd January).
Rengoku Shinjuro had many dreams in his life. When young, he had wanted to impress his father - an impossible feat, more so given the fact he passed away when Shinjuro was in his teen years. Afterwards, he wanted to make his mother happy - he spent hours striving towards that ideal, to be the son she could be proud of. He wanted to support his brother in achieving his own dreams.
Sometimes, dreams were too grand a name for what he wanted. For example, now he wished to be rid of the newbie he was stuck with, but that was impossible, at least for the day, so he had to settle for wanting coffee. Call him unmanly but he enjoyed a good latte on any day.
“This has to be my favorite place to get coffee,” Shinjuro remarked to the newbie as they walked to the door. The queue was short and there wasn’t anyone sitting down; the duo would also take their coffees to-go, as they had to patrol the center just a few streets away. “It’s good and the service is…” he trailed off, catching sight of you as you served a tired student their coffee.
Another one of his wishes - for you to agree to a date with him.
“Senpai?”
Shinjuro cleared his throat, annoyed for getting interrupted in his routine admiration of your person. “As I was saying, coffee is good.” He didn’t elaborate.
The line moved up, the newbie commenting on the muffin selection as Shinjuro tried to discreetly wipe his palms. It wouldn’t do to appear like an untried rookie when he talked to you.
“Good morning, sir. What can I get for you today?”
The way you called him sir did things to him - which he swiftly buried in the far corners of his mind as he ordered his usual latte, thoughts and senses filled with coffee.
“Sugar?”
Shinjuro gave you an alluring smile and replied, “No, thank you. Your sweetness is all I need.” Your lips spread into a shy smile, eyes darting behind him as the last customer before them left before focusing on the police officer again. Officer Rengoku was sun incarnated - hot with blazing eyes to match his visage. He started flirting with you a few weeks ago, but you couldn’t reciprocate, as there were always other people around. Perhaps today would present an opportunity?
You went about making Shinjuro’s latte and his colleague’s americano; you really hoped he would drop by later as well, seeing him in his uniform was… exquisite.
The americano done faster, his colleague walked outside to wait for Shinjuro while you focused on making a little something with his foam. You had been trying out different animals recently and you felt like you could nail what you had in mind today.
Sure enough, it came out perfectly. You presented the paper cup with a proud smile and offered a cap for it, which he took but didn’t put on.
“Your latte art is always beautiful,” he said as he studied the swan you made for him. “Elegant and charming, just like you.”
Blood rushed to your cheeks at the compliment, and you tried to hide how flustered the comment made you; the way you clenched your apron with your hands gave you away though.
Shinjuro gave you a smug smile, sipping his latte and licking his lips enticingly. Tsk.
Mischief previously concealed buzzed underneath your skin, and a flirtatious remark made its way past your lips without your mind being able to stop it. “If you were a coffee,” you leaned in slowly, your hands laying on the counter, your eyes becoming hooded, as if you were under the influence of his charm, and he leaned in too, as if you were to tell him a great secret, “you would be a triple shot of espresso, because you're strong, bold and you make my heart race.”
Bright red blush spread across his cheeks and Shinjuro blinked a few times, surprise painting over the usual smile he bore. It was delightful. You grinned fiendishly. Oh how the tables have turned.
With a hasty thank you and an even deeper flush, he nearly ran out, like an untried rookie.
You were bad for his heart.
…he had to return in the afternoon and ask you out properly.
dividers by @benkeibear
network: @enchantedforest-network
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#rengoku shinjuro#shinjuro x reader#rengoku shinjuro x reader#shinjuro x y/n#shinjuro x you#kny x reader#kny x y/n#kny x you#kny fanfic#demon slayer fanfic#kimetsu no yaiba fanfic#rengoku x reader#rengoku x you#rengoku x y/n
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Headcanon for Cliva romantic moment
In "The Art of Trolls Band Together" book, it's mentioned by Matthew Paulson who is the Location Modelling Supervisor of Trolls Band Together that Viva is really interested in origami (hence why there's a origami swan in her room). This made me think of a headcanon I had in mind for Cliva, which I now wonder could possibly be true if the creators want to make Cliva a canon romantic pair.
This could be set in a flashback or possibly be present day if Clay and Viva still live and continue to run Putt Putt Village together (only this time they're more welcoming to Bergans).
I imagine that Clay in his spare time in when he gets too bored with boring stuff like accounting, etc, he often does activities in his office to keep himself stimulated. Perhaps one time when Viva is checking up on him she decides to teach him origami.
Despite a rough start, Clay eventually gets pretty good at origami and starts to really enjoy it. One piece of origami that particularly impresses Viva is a paper flower that looks like a poppy flower (which is bittersweet if set in a flashback) . Seeing how much Viva likes it, Clay gives her the flower as a present. There's a tender moment where he places the flower in her hair/behind her ear and he gently brushes her bangs aside while looking deeply into Viva's eyes and her back in his.
The two hold their gaze for longer than they planned and eventually Clay clears his throat awkwardly, saying he better get back to work while Viva says she better either get back on patrol (flashback) or planning a fun day (present day) two share shy chuckles and glances. As Viva leaves the office, she removes the paper flower from her hair and looks down at it with a touched smile. Her eyes soft as they look back where she came from and gives a smitten sigh.
If Cliva *does* become canon, I definitely see hints like this happening between the two of them. 😁🥰
#dreamworks trolls#trolls#theories#cliva#clay and viva#clay trolls#trolls viva#trolls clay#trolls headcanons
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Ambiguous by Nature
I wanted to share a beautiful rendition of Leda and the Swan by the renowned Irish poet William Butler Yeats (1865-1939). It comes from Wisconsin artist Mark Brueggeman, who taught in the Department of Art and Design at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point for 27 years. He is a versatile, talented artist known for his work in stain-glass, painting, drawing, and printmaking. This work has now extended his work to include the roles of both publisher and illustrator. According to a quote from hiddenstudiosarttour.com, Brueggeman states he has “always enjoyed the look of text incorporated into drawings and paintings.”
Brueggeman's artwork is a rare gem, a testament to his meticulous craftsmanship. Printed in an edition of 15 copies at Brueggeman's Atelier Vermeil Studio in 2015, the work is a blend of letterpress and intaglio prints on Root River Mill paper handmade by the artist and several of his colleagues, and published as a portfolio of broadsides.
The poem, rooted in a Greek myth about a sexual encounter between the immortal god Zeus and the beautiful Spartan queen Leda, presents a unique perspective. In Yeats’ version, he offers a provocative and ambiguous account of a sexual act. Brueggeman's visual interpretation of the poem adds another layer of intrigue, leaning into the vague nature of the poem itself.
The artwork and poetry blend seamlessly, taking on a sensual yet brutal quality. They intentionally leave much to the reader's imagination, allowing for various interpretations and assumptions. However, one thing is certain in the poem and the artist’s rendering: following the rash and impulsive act, Leda is left on her own, carrying the knowledge of the future consequences that their union has created.
-Melissa, Special Collections Classics Intern
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#classics#greek mythology#ancient greece#zeus#leda and the swan#William Butler Yeats#Mark Brueggeman#Atelier Vermeil Studio#Root River Mill#letterpress#intaglio#book art#poetry#irish poetry#w.b. yeats#yeats#greek gods#mythology#artists books#classical mythology#Melissa
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I love the Agatha Christie question!
Who are your HP/Twilight faves in the Christie universe? (Who’s the opportunist who knows too much and dies for it? Who’s the conman killer who courts the girl to avoid suspicion? Who’s just trying to take a holiday and gets caught-up in a murder? Who are the dynamic mystery-solving duo who realize they are in love by the end of the novel? etc.).
I mean, that is kind of what The Man Who Would Be King (and secret fic) (both cowritten with @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin) have already become. We have our murder victim, Alphard, a very rich man with a colorful family, and possibly his sister, we have our unlikely detectives in Voldemort, Lily Potter, and Alphard himself. It may not be the center of the story but it's a large part of it.
In other words my answer for Harry Potter would somehow spoil all my present and future fics so I won't.
As for the Twilight version...
I vote we do it wealthy dysfunctional family style, it's most natural.
A patriarch is poisoned
Carlisle Cullen, a very wealthy man with powerful enemies, nonetheless dear to those around him and blessed with more friends than most, is found dead in his office one morning. Cause of death? Murder.
The police, caught on the detail that Dr. Cullen was a vampire and vampires are real, what the fuck is this on the doctor's autopsy table and is he going to wake up again and drink all our blood?, are little use in the investigation. Scotland Yard is soon brought in, and using Chief Swan's connections with the family they get a better picture of Dr. Cullen's life.
His family wasn't looking to inherit him anytime soon, as he was immortal. None of them were having money troubles however, all were independently wealthy.
He had made enemies of a thousand-year-old clan of powerful vampires, who on hearing that his murder is being investigated like this get very upset. Supposedly the victim lived with them in his youth (and inspector Craddock cries when he learns the timeline for this murder goes back to the 1600s. Are they going to have to bring historians in on this murder??), he might have known something
Oh what's that? The victim had a whole network of friends across the globe, who are all killers, and he knew everyone's secrets? ... do we have the budget to investigate this?
The victim was also living next to a tribe of magical shapeshifting wolves evolved specifically to kill his kind. They liked him best and had a line in their treaty that "he dies last". Not sure what to do with this information
Rosalie Hale missing person case from 1933 solved: Carlisle Cullen adopted her. Was she recognised, did someone piece it together, and was Carlisle killed in retribution?
The victim lived a fake life of fake papers. Could be important, except it's the most normal thing about this case.
The police wonder how this man didn't get murdered sooner, and are stretched so thin the investigation is going slowly.
So, Renesmee gets to be our plucky detective du jour, as she decides to see if she can help. Surely there is no harm in her poking around, and she's well liked around the vampire world so there might be answers she can get that human police can't, partly because policemen keep getting eaten.
She slowly narrows it down to the horrible realization that it was someone in the family, and she learns terrible things.
Jasper Hale wasn't Jasper Hale at all! He was a friend of Jasper's in the newborn army who wanted a new life, and who in the wake of Jasper's suden and unexpected death assumed his identity. He had Peter bite his entire face so he'd be scarred like Jasper had been, and vouch for this blond vampire most definitely being Jasper Hale.
Peter later had to die because he Knew Too Much, and so did Charlotte, regrettably. Fake Jasper did however not kill Carlisle.
Edward seems a prime suspect, he is an angry and resentful young man who acts out. Everyone thinks he did it, and that Bella should certainly marry Jacob, the safer option. Much upheaval is had, however, once Renesmee is able to clear Edward's name and he meaningfully links arms with Bella. They sail off into the sunset with their inheritance.
Rosalie is a beautiful, cold, intimidating woman, the femme fatale sort who's surely conniving. It's a bit of a mystery why she married that poor fool Emmett, but it's clear to all she doesn't love him. No clear motive from her, other than the money she would inherit, but she's just so suspicious. Her alibi is ambiguous, she claims she was with Esme and Emmett but what if Esme and Emmett are lying to protect their daughter and wife? Superintendent Battle wonders about that.
Renesmee is at a loss.
And then she realizes that it's not Rosalie who acts like she doesn't love Emmett, it's Emmett who acts like he doesn't love her! And Esme's grieving widow act is just that, it's an act!
Renesmee realizes that Emmett and Esme are lovers, and killed Carlisle together. Esme committed it while Emmett tricked Rosalie into giving her an alibi. Renesmee realizes this once she has a "But Rosalie couldn't have seen Esme from that angle!" moment.
The plan was too pin Rosalie for the murder, see her hanged, and then in due time the mourning widowers would marry, happily entitled to all the money they couldn't have touched if they'd divorced. Also Rosalie was Catholic so she wouldn't have agreed to a divorce.
The two lovers are confronted, and Esme pulls out a tiny pearl-studded gun from her shoe, says "We tried, my love. I regret nothing" before shooting first Emmett, then herself.
#agatha christie#twilight#twilight renaissance#twilight meta#my fic#the carnivorous muffin#the carnivorous muffin fic#the man who would be king#secret fic#renesmee cullen#cullens#jasper hale#rosalie hale#emmett cullen#esme cullen#carlisle cullen
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Around the holidays I had the unique joy of meeting up with @windvexer in person while they were visiting my beloved New York City. Over sushi, dessert, and then just hanging out in their hotel lobby we had a wide ranging conversation about our practices, UPGs, etc. The conversation eventually drifted to comparing our spirit lead initiations. Chicken’s story is theirs to share, or not, as they choose. But I’ve been thinking a lot since that conversation about my own initiation and how it parallels another important story in my life.
When I was 15 I was a dancer and I was good, like competing at a national level. I was cast as Odette in my ballet school’s adaptation of Swan Lake. I practiced, and rehearsed, and trained all year long for the role. Then a month before recital weekend my family and I went on a weekend trip to Gettysburg. I also love history, and my dad and I had just read a book about the battle of Gettysburg together, so we clambered all over the battlefield. I tore a calf muscle doing this. I saw my usual doctor for injuries and wore a cast for three weeks, walked through rehearsals, took it easy. Once the cast was off a week before the recital I ramped up slowly, warmed up more than usual, stretched carefully, everything. But come recital weekend I danced my heart out and left everything on the stage. 3 weeks later I was diagnosed with CRPS in the leg I had injured.
What does any of this have to do with my initiation? Everything, just bare with me.
My childhood mentor had been initiated by the spirits of her tradition, and she had spoken to me about the effect this had had on her. I had written an academic paper on initiatory spiritual traditions and the phenomena of initiation sickness. I knew, long before Oisin ever broached the topic with me, that a spirit lead initiation could wreck your life, that it would be trying in ways that were specifically designed to change you on a fundamental to suit the spirit's needs, and that undertaking one would have consequences I couldn’t even begin to image. I also knew that dancing Swan Lake one week out of a cast could have disastrous results for my dance career. But I loved the music and choreography. I loved how I felt while I was dancing. So I danced. I was already in love with Oisin when he presented me with this trial. I loved learning from him, and working with him, and if there was something hard, even something impossible, that he needed me to do so that I could keep learning and working with him - it was no question.
I had no way of knowing when I was teenager waiting in the wings in my white leotard and feathered wig that I was about to dance my last ballet. That in less than a year I would start using a cane, or that I would one day swap the cane for a wheelchair, or any of the changes and accommodations that I’ve had to make in my life for my disability. I only knew the love. When I said yes to Oisin I couldn’t have predicted how much it would break me when he killed my soul, dismembered it, and scattered the innumerable shreds across the Otherworlds. I could have imagined the amazing and terrifying things I saw and experienced on my journey to find those fragments and assemble myself - or what it was like to live without a complete soul in the meantime. And nothing could have prepared me for the permanent changes the whole process had wrought on my life: on my physical health, my mental health, the very fact that my spiritual oaths and promises must always come first for me. I only knew the love.
17 years after my diagnosis, and 13 after my initiation started, I look back at the choices that led to both and would make them both again, even knowing the consequences. These two choices, more than almost anything else in my life, have shaped who I am as an adult and I like that person. These choices came from the right place, both times. Not from ambition, greed, guilt, or fear, but love. And I can’t ever regret what I did for love.
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DANCE MARATHON EPISODE (AKA MURDER ON THE DANCE FLOOR)-PART 5
After a quick blowjob break out in the soon-to-be-bloodspattered Stars Hollow High football field, a certain homocidal maniac in a puke green church donation bin coat has returned, and he's ready to dish out some sass. Shane is not in tow yet, but we need to give her time to freshen up and make herself presentable for the remaining few hours of her life.
Lane's pointless bitterness towards Jess is such a fucking waste. My "Lane hates Jess for stupid reasons when they could have been pals" rant has been reheated in the metaphorical microwave too many times already, so I won't repeat myself, but yeah. It's still about that fucking car accident.
Getting your dick sucked on the high school football field before committing a gruesome homocide can really work up a boy's appetite.
Baby you're such a good noticer. *kisses forehead*
I can't think of anyone more deserving of a rock hard permanent public erection. Wait
And now, for what is possibly my favorite five-word exchange in the entire series:
The most perfectly executed dry delivery. Ugh! Sheer perfection!
Well, at least egg salad sandwiches beat the Crack and Despair Sandwiches Liz used to pack in his lunchbox.
Miss "My Virginity Spared Me From Becoming Football Field Fertilizer" has arrived with Also-Not-Dancing Butthead in tow. If the food is for the dancers, I better not see him eat anything. I will smack that sandwich out of his hand so fast so help me god
(virgins always survive the killing spree).
You ever think about what a monstrous hell it must be for Jess living in a place like Stars Hollow? I think about this a lot. But I like to think that off screen he gets in his car and gets the fuck out of there as much as possible. Anyway, this is another perfectly dry one liner that I absolutely love. I want to fil out adoption papers and take all of his sarcastic one liners from this episode home from the shelter.
R: You have nothing better to do than sit in a gymnasum staring at a dance marathon?
J:Idk, do you have nothing better to do than sit inside a gymnasium staring at a dance marathon?
R:Do you think you're bugging me sitting in front of me and staring like that?
J: Do you think you're bugging me dancing and staring at me like that?
R: I'm not staring at you!
J:How do you know I'm staring at you?
Dean: It's been two years. Maybe you can glance at my dick for once, Rory.
Has Rory ever said anything supportive of Dean that wasn't said with the same conviction as if she were a bank robbery hostage?
Deany has that constipated look on his face again. Is he sad because no one was staring at him? But someone was. I'll give you a hint, it's a certain MILF who wants to turn that 34 into a 69. Lorelai is 34 years old in this episode, by the way. He's proudly displaying his love of young milfs on his literal sleeve.
Listen, you could power Stars Hollow with the combined sexual frustration of these three people + Lane and Dave Ryglaski to make it extra nuclear. When nobody puts out, you get three teenagers eating egg salad and having an "I'm not staring at you!" argument in a school gymansium at 10pm.
Ooooh. Jess is shakin in his little murder boots.
J: I'm supporting my town.
R: Go back to New York.
Oh Rory babe, if only he could, he'd be home now with a smile on his face with a pushcart hot dog in one hand while some easy alt chick rode his dick. Well, yeah he's got that now but he's going to feed her to the swans then take an 8 month vow of celibacy for some reason.
Got em.
He's so LAME.
Jared: Hey AmyShermanPalladino, can't Dean get any fun comebacks for once? Why does Milo get all the good sass?
AmyShermanPalladino: You can pick from the reject pile. We've got "my former comment still stands" "Are you trying to act tough, you're wearing a tie" and "You're the one who's going"
She's so horny. God help her.
Shane Campbell stars in the newest WB Network vehicle, "My Favorite Murder Victim."
He keeps picking at that sandwich like he's going to find a $100 bill in the bread.
You want this poor girl to spend the last precious hours of her life doing math problems?
I guess egg salad will wash the taste of dick out of her mouth.
We heard you the first time, Ice Vagina.
What is Dean even doing here, lol.
There's something incredibly erotic about this line.
Dean is like, what the hell is going on? Why is she touching me?
*immediately pushes her off*
Don't give him any more ideas, Jess.
I just want to point out that on the table behind them, fresh fruit and brownies are available for consumption. You know you guys don't have to eat those sandwiches.
Code for "I'm gonna go find the murder implement I stowed away in the bushes earlier"
#gilmore girls#jess mariano#shane campbell#shane is swan food#denise rewatches gilmore girls#gilmore girls season 3#they shoot gilmores dont they#tsgdt#rory gilmore#I can't believe that like a half dozen people read this shit I write and don't unfollow me#bless your hearts#smoochies#I am fucked in the head#I even held back a few really insane things
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I'm a great fuck but better lover
Nami was sitting outside enjoying the good weather while she read the paper and sipped some iced tea. A new bird landed on the railing next to her. It had a package slid into the carrier on it back. Nami took the package out, and the bird made no motion to leave, most likely waiting for a reply. Nami shoke the box. There was definitely something heavy inside. Nami ripped the box open, her curiosity getting the best her as she ignored what was written atop the box. She recognized the name of where it came from. She didn't know why it was addressed to eggplant instead of Sanji.
Inside the box was a smaller box with the name The All Blue discovery box, a letter, a book, and a stack of food magazines. Nami flipped through the book, unable to recognize a single word. She shouldn't do this, but Sanji would forgive her, so Nami opened the letter.
She didn't want to get her hopes up, but the thought of exchanging letters with her loved ones back home filled her with such joy. She wanted to reconnect with them after distancing herself for so long. Nami had to admit she was amused by her new nickname, Miss Nectarine. She could guess who the rest were pretty easily. Meatball was Luffy, broccoli was Zoro, and parsnip was Usopp.
Nami turned as she herd familiar footsteps, Sanji was apoching, Mr. Noddles hot on his heels, with a pitcher of tea and a treat for her.
“Nami-swan! I have your snack all ready for you!” Sanji called out he loved himself into a bow presenting the sliver platter. “I made bublanina, it's a very airy cake, slightly sweet and filled with fresh fruit toped with iceing sugar and whipped cream. This time, I used blueberries and cherries,”
“Sanji, I opened your mail. Did Zeff mean it? Would he send our loved ones our letters if we mail it to him?” Nami asked as Sanji refilled her glass.
“Well I haven't read the letter yet, but I'm sure he did mean it, we can tell everyone at lunch so they can write their letters,”
“I'd like that, you can sit next to me and read the letter if you want to,” Nami took a bite of the cake while Mr. Noodles began to beg and reach for the cake. He was almost as bad as Luffy. It was airy like Sanji said it was. The cake itself wasn't sweet, but the fruit was sweet, as was the powdered sugar on top. It was as always delicious, Nami was glad they had recruited an actual chef.
“Thank you, Nami!” Sanji took a seat next to her, placing his tray down as he began to read his letter.
“Sanji, what made Luffy pick you over a different chef?” Nami asked.
“Well I'm not completely sure, but do you remember the pirate Patty tossed out for not having any money?” Nami nodded, Sanji had told this part already. “Luffy followed me out when I went to feed him. We argued a bit and got to talking about the all blue, I don't know if it was my dream or feeding someone that did it but one of the two. The reason I joined was Zoro,”
“Wow even then you wanted him,” Nami teased.
“Hmm well I won't deny he was good-looking, but not what I meant. Seeing him willing to die for his dream made me realize how badly I wanted to presuse mine. I still needed that last push from the other chefs. I felt that I owed it to Zeff to stay, since he gave up his leg for me, it didn't matter what I wanted. I owed him everything,”
Nami hadn't heard that detail yet. She had missed a lot since she had left after seeing Arlong's bounty poster. The next thing she knew, her three friends and the blond from the Baratie had shown up. They saved her and her village.
#one piece#fanfic#sanji#black leg sanji#vinsmoke sanji#zoro#zoro x sanji#zosan#roronoa zoro#op nami#cat burglar nami#nami#one piece zeff#chef zeff#letters to home#letters#letters from home
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