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08crll · 3 days ago

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🎨💐 246; GYEONG-SEOK HEADCANONS.

sfw & nsfw! <3

desc: 1.9k words. i NEED this man, i wish he was real. an angel loses its wings everytime this man gets written ooc 💔 so hopefully this one is in character.

sfw. gender-neutral!reader.

★ this man LOOOOVES cuddles. look at him. it doesn’t matter if you prefer being the big spoon or the Iittle spoon一he just wants to feel you close to him before he sleeps and when he wakes up.

★ he's probably a little touch starved too. but he would never say it, not because he doesn’t want to appear weak or anything, he just doesn’t want to scare you away.

★ if u were to ask him what his love language was, he’d say it was quality time or acts of service but, really, that’s only what be wants to provide that for his partner. what he really want is physical touchh:( and words of affirmation!!

★ crafty guy. he would make u cards, letters and those paper origami flowers. it doesn't even have to be on special occasions, sometimes you just come home from your work and he surprises you with a new paper craft he discovered. made out of anything he could recycle. be it a receipt, a paper bag, newspaper.

★ very touchy. but not in a bad way. always asking if you're okay with it.

★ this man probably gets all flushed and shy when you call him handsome.

call him your good looking boy and he already has that sweet smile you always loved to see. burying his face on your shoulder as you run your fingers through his hair.

“what’s with all your sweet words?” his voice muffled by your shirt. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“can i not call you handsome?”

“aahh.. quit it,” he rolled his eyes, pushing you down the couch and peppering your face with kisses.

★ loves hugging you from behind, especially when you cook or you’re at the grocery store. you’d be looking at the list of things you needed to restock on while he pushed the cart not too far behind you.

was it powder or liquid detergent? you thought to yourself, pulling out the list from the back pocket of your pants. then, out of nowhere do you feel arms around your waist, warm hands settling on your hips. “where's our cart?” you murmured with a smile. gosh, you were just starting to freeze under the cold air conditioner of this damn store.

“its fine. ‘just right behind us,” gyeong-seok reassures you as he rests his chin on your shoulder. he really couldn’t care less if people stare. he wants them to see how much he loves you. “is this okay..?” he whispered, his breath tickling your jaw.

you just chuckle, not bothering to give him a verbal response. instead, you lean back into his touch. your back pressed against his chest. his lips curled into a sheepish smile, pulling his head up to place a soft kiss on that sensitive spot of your neck.

★ definitely has multiple drawings and doodles of you in his sketchpad. never shows you because he’s afraid you might think he’s being a bit much.

★ musician!reader & him? perfect pair. art recognises art! when he hears you playing your instrument in a different room, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and carefully walks to where you were to watch you do your stuff. if na-yeon is home, he’d definitely bring her with him.

★ always has his eyes on you even during times when he probably shouldn’t, like when the two of you are having a conversation with na-yeon’s teacher about how well she’s been doing in her classes. or when you were having dinner with your parents. you were explaining how you met him and he just admires you like he’s looking at you for the very first time.

★ adding onto the previous one, because of how often he just stares at you; you often mistook this as him spacing out and not listening but he actually was listening to every single word you said. your voice sounded like heaven to him, how could he not? when you ask him to recite what you just said, you were surprised to see how he got it right, word for word.

★ definitely the type to go out of his way to do something because he thinks you’d like it. during one of your library dates, he catches you picking up a book about poetry, complimenting the work inside and how beautiful people write when they’re in love. after that day, he definitely went home and wrote multiple poem drafts about you.

★ speaking of dates!! this man would be the type to apologise to you because he can’t take you to those fancy restaurants. you had to remind him multiple times that eating at fine dinings wasn’t really your thing anyway, that it made you self-conscious to be around such fancy people. he frowned, thinking you were just saying that so he’d stop apologising and you knew just how to cure that.

“you know.. i always did have a soft spot for library dates.”

his face lit up and ever since then, he never forgets to take you on your weekly library dates. it was a good place to unwind as well. killing one bird with two stones; spending quality time with you knowing that you actually enjoy being here, and being able to have some peace and quiet.

★ the protective and worried type!! always texting “are you home?” after dropping you off at your place. “are you tired? do you want to sleep?” as much as he’d love to text you up until the early morning even if it meant he had no sleep when he got to work tomorrow, he doesn’t want you to be sleep deprived.

★ i’ve seen other ppl say this and i just can’t get it out of my head; he’s probably insecure about himself whenever you introduce him to your friends and your family :(

when you invite him to attend a dinner party, telling him it was just a get together with some old friends from your hometown, he misheard you.

“you should definitely go! i know how much you miss your friends,” he beamed, giving you a thumbs up.

you furrowed your brows. “honey.. wait, no, i want you to come with me, yeah?”

he looks at you confused. you want to bring him with you? for what? he was never the type to be jealous of you attending events by yourself. maybe it was because he trusted you or maybe because he didn’t want to hold you back. he knew you to be too good for him. a single father, struggling to make ends meet and provide for his sickly daughter—it wouldn’t be much of a shock to him if you ghosted him out of nowhere or if you leave him for another person. please give this man some reassurance!!! :(

★ always wakes up before you in the morning. his fingers trailing across your face while he admires the way the sun shines behind you making it look like you were glowing. he really doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, but my god, did he consider himself the luckiest man alive for that reason.

★ loves it when you cup his face with both your hands. he’ll have the biggest and silliest smile on his face when you do so.

nsfw! gender-neutral & fem!reader.

★ a soft dom, but would gladly be submissive if you asked.

★ as we already know, he’s a very good listener, even in bed. he’s always listening to the way you moan, the sound of your whine, the pitch. does flicking his tongue feel good? he’d ask but he had a feeling that the sound of you already gave him the answer.

★ probably would prefer to be intimate in comfortable spaces. although he would never object if you offered to give him a quickie, each time he’d remind you of how you never needed to do this. that he’d take care of it himself.

“you don’t have to. it’ll go away. i can—”

“i want to. please?”

how could he say no to those eyes?

★ prioritizes your comfort above anything else, above his own. if you were in an awkward place, but you really needed to get off—needed him—he would hold your hand firmly. “i’ll take you home, come on,” he’d say as he pulls you next to him.

★ loooves having you ride him, but he worries that it’ll tire you out too much

★ when your face gets sweaty, hair clinging to your forehead with your mouth open, he makes sure to brush your hair back with his fingers. he wants to see your flushed and fucked out face clearly, wants to see if he’s doing good

★ always preps you beforehand. he can’t stand the thought of hurting you, even IF you’ve done it countless times before.

reaching for the zipper of his jeans as he gently swats your hand away. “i need to prep you first, honey..” he cooed, pulling your pants down. he knows how eager you are, but he needs to take care of you first.

★ the only times he wouldn’t prep you would probably be when he’d be the sub. you ordering him around, telling him what to do and what not to do

★ subtle touches doesn’t get him turned on right away (he’s more mature than that. he’s not a pervert) this probably also means that he’s a little oblivious to your advances, you’d have to tell him directly what you needed or wanted of him and watch as his eyes widen, looking around to see if na-yeon heard the two of you. “honey.. are you sure?”

★ there would be times when you’d show off your skin and instead of him getting aroused, he’d just be in awe of your beauty. i mean, he probably IS aroused but he just doesn’t go insane over it.

★ breeding kink, FOR SURE, but he always asks first.

“can i come in you, baby? please?”

“i’m so close.. ‘so close..”

“pleaseee...” paired by him whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

★ doesn’t like BDSM. i mean, he’s a father now. also hates the thought of hurting you purposefully. he’d also probably never say it, but he doesn’t like getting degraded as well :( just give this man some praises, he’s already sad enough as is!

★ saw ppl saying he has a daddy kink and im just like nooooo 💔💔 he has a daughter that literally calls him daddy, why would he ever want you to call him that in the bedroom?

★ his rhythm would be slow and gentle, wanting to feel all of you and be with you in the moment. you would have to beg this man to go faster

★ the type to hold your hair back during blowjobs. he’d probably accidentally pull on it when you flick your tongue over his tip, but apologies would quickly come spilling out of his lips.

“‘m sorry.. sorry, honey.. i didn’t mean to.. fuck, that felt good..”

★ always reminding you of how beautiful you are while his cock is buried deep inside you.

“you’re so beautiful like this.. taking me in so well..”

“yes, that’s it.. c’mon.. you’re so pretty..”

★ he makes sure you come before he does, and when he does come (whether it’s in you or on you) he takes a minute afterwards to take a breath while you feel his cock still half-hard inside you.

“i love you so much.”

“you did so good f’me..”

★ aftercare king 🫡🫡

a/n: there are literally no fics of him (x reader) on ao3 so i have turned to tumblr bc tumblr RARELY disappoints when it comes to content for side characters 🙏

#gyeong seok smut #park gyeong seok #246 #player 246 #player 246 x reader #gyeong seok x reader #gyeong seok x reader smut #gyeong seok #lee jinuk #lee jin wook #squid game s2 #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game headcanons #c’s fics 🖋️

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lipglossanon · 15 hours ago

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Until the End

Real son!Leon S. Kennedy x real mom!reader (one shot)

Warnings: incest, dead dove, mom/son, simp Leon, cnc (reader’s “not” into it at first 😉), kissing, dirty talk, teasing, oral (f receiving), just the tip 😩, unprotected sex, creampie, mommy kink to the extreme

not proofread ✍️ it’s been a while since I’ve worked on anything so hopefully this doesn’t suck lmao the ending is just kinda meh

shoutout to the discord; I posted some of this WIP and they gave me the inspo to finish 🤭

title from the Breaking Benjamin song

It’s a quiet affair when you sign the divorce papers. Your husband—of twenty four years—deciding that he’d rather live overseas with his secretary instead of sticking it out; it’s not something you would have foreseen, but as they say hindsight’s always 20/20. It upset you at first but once the indignation died down, you realize you feel more relief than anything. Things have been strained for years and then in the last five, he’s barely been home long enough to chat about your days.

The one who took it the hardest out of anyone is Leon. Your husband offered him a place to stay, but he chose to live with you (being a mama’s boy through and through). After his father left, Leon angrily refused to speak with him anymore and instead focused on his work and trying to pick up any slack around the house. Not that you hadn’t already been doing that for years, but it’s sweet of him to want to take care of you.

He dotes on you now, making sure you’re eating and drinking and taking care of yourself. His friends tease him about it or rib him about having a milf (which you had the unfortunate chance to overhear as you walked into the living room). Meeting Leon’s mortified gaze, you smile tightly and walk through to the kitchen. He kicks them out and apologizes profusely to you, face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as he murmurs how sorry he is and promises it won’t happen again.

Things go back to normal for a while. The absence of your husband is something you don’t even notice anymore. Leon is more than capable of moving out and living on his own, but he says it’s closer to work and easier to keep an eye on you if he lives at home. Besides, he told you with a serious face, he doesn’t have a girlfriend to make things awkward so for now you just need to chill out and let him take care of things.

He gets a promotion at work, no longer relegated to being just a traffic cop, and you couldn’t be more proud! Your offer to take him out to a nice dinner gets turned down; in its place is an evening of take out and drinking. Since it’s the weekend, neither of you are worried about being hungover the next day, so you both end up drinking more than you usually would.

Later, Leon walks with you from the dining room to the living room, each of you laughing at some silly joke that you can’t even remember.

Settling together on the couch, he tucks into your side, face nuzzling against your neck like he used to do as a little boy. You giggle and run your hand through his hair.

“You’re so sweet, Leon,” you murmur, “but aren’t you a little too old to be cuddling your mom?”

“Uh uh,” he whines, making you laugh harder, “always need you, mama.”

“Okay, okay,” you pat his head, slumping further into the couch, the alcohol buzzing through your veins, “my little boy’s all grown up.”

Feeling maudlin now at remembering that the passage of time waits for no one, you sniffle and it draws Leon’s attention.

“What’s a’matter?” He mumbles, hazy blue eyes sharpening to see your tears, “mom?”

You smile and cup his cheek. Neither of you have shied away from physical affection; however, you remember on more than one occasion you thought Leon went overboard with cuddling and snuggling with you. Now that seems like a silly thought, he just missed you during his long hours on duty.

“Nothing, just so proud of you,” you smile, dropping your hand to rub his shoulder.

He kisses your cheek and you coo softly. Moving closer, he lands another soft kiss to the corner of your lips. Blaming it on the alcohol, a warm thrum of heat sings through your stomach.

“Mama,” he whimpers, lips clumsily landing on yours.

You freeze, body heavy and thoughts slow. Leon presses his mouth more firmly against yours and you gasp, lips parting under his and he eagerly kisses you harder. Whining, you try to tug your head away but he follows you, kisses becoming rougher while pressing you deeper against the couch.

Your hands come up and tangle in his hair, but instead of pulling him back they scrape against his scalp, making him groan deliciously. He shifts, pulling away to tilt his head at a better angle before pressing another hot kiss against your lips. You sink into it, clit pulsing in arousal, mouth tingling from each sloppy kiss from your son.

Finally, you twist away, panting heavily while Leon rests his forehead against your jaw.

“Mama, why’d you stop?” He presses a soft kiss under your ear, making you shiver.

“Leon, this—this isn’t right,” you plead, eyelashes fluttering as he nips and sucks your neck.

“Just this once,” he murmurs, lips dragging against your skin and sending chills down your body. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you, mommy.”

His words and actions are muddling your mind… and you’ve been lonely for so long. Swallowing, you breath out a shaky breath, mind made up.

“O-okay,” your body feels hot, muttering that out loud.

Moaning, he bites your jaw then kisses your cheek. “Thank you.”

He shows his appreciation by kissing the breath from your lungs; your son’s excitement ramps up your own, cunt pulsing with need as slick fills your panties. Wet, drugging kisses pass between you until you completely lose yourself to the feeling, making out with Leon until your lips are swollen.

You jump, feeling his fingers trail along your thigh, slipping under your skirt and brushing against your panties.

“God, you’re so wet. Wanna bury my face in your pussy.”

You moan, and he teases your cunt through the soppy fabric.

“You can’t,” your hips grind down into his hand.

“Okay, promise I’ll behave,” he chuckles.

Without another word, he flips your skirt up and slips your panties down your legs to bunch at your ankles.

“Oh mommy,” he moans, fingers tracing your slit up and down before circling your clit, “your pussy’s so soft. Fuck me.”

Your hips buck and he bites his bottom lip, fingers rubbing up and down your pussy lips.

“So, so soft,” he whispers, eyes glued to where his fingers are touching, “my stubble’s gonna feel so rough when I kiss her, mama.”

You whine high and reedy but shake your head, “No, no, this is all I’m allowing, Leon. You promised.”

“Just a kiss or two,” he murmurs, voice low and smoky, “she needs it, look how soft and sweet she is, just begging for my mouth. C’mon, mama, just let me have a couple of kisses.”

Your resolve cracks at his pleading.

“Just a couple, then we stop,” you try to sound firm but your voice comes out breathier than you’d like.

“Mmhmm, thank you, mama,” he kisses the side of your cheek then the corner of your lips.

You feel a little disappointed that he stops to kneel between your legs. He brings his hands up to spread apart your cunt, slick dripping from your hole as his mouth hovers over your mound.

“Oh fuck, mom,” Leon whines, tongue lapping at your clit, “so fucking wet. Am I making you this wet? God, your pussy’s so fucking sexy.”

Another groan and he’s fluttering his tongue across your pudgy bud before sucking it gently into his mouth. He pulls back and kisses the hood of your clit. You moan softly and cant your hips up.

“W-we shouldn’t, baby,” you plead, fingers tangling in his hair again, but not pushing him away.

“Been wanting to do this forever, dreaming about how I wanna lick your pretty pussy til you cream all over my face,” he pants, dilated eyes watching your face, “gonna make you cum over and over tonight.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he thrusts his tongue into your pussy, walls clamping around the slippery muscle, “Leon!

He hums and grinds his nose against your clit as his tongue fucks in and out of your hole, spit dripping down your ass onto the couch cushions. Your eyes flutter as your orgasm winds tight in your abdomen.

“Need to eat you out everyday, mama,” he pulls back, slick shining across his lips and chin, “treat this pussy like she deserves. Don’t you wanna feel good?”

He sucks your clit back into his mouth, hot tongue flicking against the sensitive bud. It only takes a few more teasing licks before your climax breaks over your body like a tidal wave. Toes curling, your hands tug on his hair making him moan, tonguing at your fluttering cunt until he finally pulls away with one last sucking kiss.

He crowds you on the couch, thick forearms hooking under your knees to keep you spread open. He nods down to his jeans; your eyes flit from his face to the bulge pressing obscenely against his zipper.

“Pull it out,” he murmurs, blue eyes nearly black. “Take my cock out so I can stuff your cunt, mommy.”

Shaking your head, your voice cracks, “No, baby. That’s going too far.”

He whines, “But it hurts, mama. You’re being so mean. At least jerk me off.”

Biting your lip, his pouty mouth has you reaching forward, undoing his pants and tugging them down his thighs. You gently ease his dick from his briefs, uncut head sticky with precum. You both moan when you grip his stiff cock, the blood hot skin against your palm turning you on more than you ever thought. Thumb pressing against the slit, you smear the pearlescent sheen across his tip until he’s whimpering.

“Mommy,” his hips thrust forward, “it’s sensitive.”

He sags forward, and your legs slide up his arms until your calves press against his biceps. This new position has his dick grinding against your swollen cunt, the head grazing across your pudgy clit. Your fingers loosely circle the base of his cock, the backs of your knuckles brushing against his balls.

“So good, fuck,” he chokes out, humping your pussy. “Just let me cum like this, let me mark you up, mama. Yeah, just coat this sexy fucking pussy with my cum.”

Keening, you let go of his cock to feather your fingers against his heavy balls. “You can, you can cum all over me.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, pink lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as he watches his cock slip between your pussy lips to rub against your hole. “Mommy, just let me put the tip in, please? Promise it’ll just be the tip. Please.”

You know you should say no, but then again you should’ve put a stop to this before it even started. Just the tip wouldn’t be so bad, you think, eyes greedily taking in his fat, drippy tip. It wouldn’t hurt to let him try it out.

“Just the tip, Leon,” you murmur, flicking up to meet his blown out gaze. “But only this once.”

“Thank you,” he groans, “love you so much, mama.”

Moving one hand from his hold on your leg, he grips his cock and guides the head to your clenching hole. His thumb presses down on the head as he rocks forward, slipping the tip into your wet cunt. You suck in a deep breath at the same time he grunts. The other hand gripping your thigh tightens, fingertips tightly digging into the soft skin.

Leon blows out a breath, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “You feel so good.”

He ruts the head of his cock in and out of your pussy, the wet schlick loud in the otherwise quiet living room. Your hands move over your head to drape over the back of the couch, fingers grasping at the cushions.

“Can I—,” he cuts himself off, eyes squeezing shut. “Can I go a little deeper, mommy?”

Your slick hole clenches down on him and he whimpers.

“H-how much deeper?” You hear yourself say, mouth running away from you.

“Just an inch or two,” he gasps, feeling overwhelmed by the heat of your cunt. “Pretty please, mommy.”

You nod, eyes unable to look away from where he’s splitting you open, dick driving deeper and deeper—going so much farther than a few inches—into your pussy until he’s completely buried in your pulsing walls.

“Leon!” You cry out, head falling back as your cunt stretches around the fat girth of his cock.

“Sorry, mama,” he practically slurs, pussy drunk already. “Didn’t mean to, it just slipped.”

You whimper at the pleasure pain of his tip kissing your cervix as he grinds himself against your cunt. Clit rubbing against his pelvis makes you squeeze and clench around his dick, in turn making him groan from deep in his chest. He barely pulls out before fucking back into your sopping wet hole.

“So perfect,” his face pinches in pleasure. “God, mom, your pussy—gonna make me cum so fast.”

You dig your hands into the couch and roll your hips down into his thrusts, “You need to pull out, baby. It’s bad to cum inside. You’ve gotta pull out of mommy’s cunt.”

He makes a broken sound from the back of his throat and drives his cock into you with harsh, pounding thrusts.

“No, I’m gonna cum in you, make you nice and full,” he bites out, sweat dripping from the straight line of his nose onto you. “Stuff you so full, mama.”

You can’t hide how his words make your pussy clamp down on his cock, his own hips stuttering as your cunt tries to milk his cock.

“Yeah, mommy, squeezing me so good, so fucking good,” he pants. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

He reaches down, hot palm a brand across your mound as his thumb teases your clit. You thrash against him, but it’s no use as he strums your swollen bud in rough little circles that makes your thighs tremble.

“Leon,” you moan, a second orgasm quickly building in your core. “Oh god, I’m so close.”

He doesn’t stop the frantic pumping of his hips, fucking his cock into your squelching heat while he rubs your clit—his blue eyes jumping between your face and your pussy. Mouth dropping open, he groans, mumbling praises and promises under his breath. Pinching your clit between the knuckles of his first and middle finger, he gives pulsing squeezes to the sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re cumming loudly.

Your back bows, fireworks going off in your brain, dimly realizing that Leon’s gripping your hips as he wildly fucks your cunt.

“Fuck, fuck, mom,” he chokes on the word, burying himself balls deep in your soft, wet walls and spilling his thick cum as deep as possible.

You whimper, squeezing down on him as the hot splash of his spend fills your cunt. He eventually stills, hips still snugly pressed against you as close as possible. Slick and jizz begin to slowly leak out from around his softening cock. He hisses when he pulls out, then immediately whimpers, fingers playing with his cum dripping from your hole.

“Leon, stop, it’s sensitive,” you gasp, eyes slipping closed when his fingers slide up to rub across your fat clit.

“Sorry, mama,” he pulls back only to drop to his knees, eyes dark, mouth hovering tantalizingly close to your sloppy cunt. “Let me kiss it better.”

#real son!leon s kennedy #mom!reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #mind the tags

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short-honey-badger · 4 hours ago

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Hi dear mera💕🫂 how are you? I have an ask hehe if you are still taking them if not it's alrighty 🥰 could you make a shamrock ABO Soulmate au? Pretty please ❤️ have marvelous day💕

My dear, I really hope I did your request justice. It got a little out of hand and will most likely have a part 2, lol. It's just kind of evolved into something more than just a one-shot, I think 🤷‍♀️. I do hope you enjoy it, though!

Sandalwood and Rose

Pairings! Figarland Shamrock x Female Reader

Warnings! Slavery and slave auctions! Reader has a bit of a dark past. Shamrock is trying his best, okay?

Masterlist for Shamrock-> HERE

It doesn’t happen very often, but on the occasion that Figarland Shamrock does have some free time, his usual haunt is the Sabaody Archipelago. The string of connected islands always had something interesting happening, and even the alpha became curious about the different going-ons that surrounded him. So, as to not draw attention to himself, Shamrock would dress down into common clothes, toss his red hair up into a proper ponytail, and shove his feet into a pair of sandals.

He looked even more like his twin like this and was occasionally confused with Shanks, but it gave him some form of anonymity, so the alpha usually didn’t mind. People were more comfortable with his younger brother, so it allowed Shamrock to experience the world without the stink of fear permeating around him. Today, he had wandered close to the auction house, sharp ears, and sensitive nose picking up a scent that broke through the sour smell of terrified people being sold as slaves.

Curious, Shamrock made his way inside and sat near the back, shrouded in shadow and unnoticed by the patrons inside. He breathes deeply, sorting through the amalgamation of different smells until he latches on to the one that had brought him inside in the first place. Whoever it belonged to hadn’t made it on the stage yet, so he settled into his chair and waited.

He had an inkling about why this particular scent had drawn him in. It didn’t happen often, and it only happened between alpha and omega, but if the two parties were compatible, a dyad would form a connection between the sexes that was near impossible to break. Many equated the phenomenon to that of a soulbond, Shamrock just didn’t think such a rare thing would ever happen to him.

He had to wait a while, but eventually, another set of unfortunate civilians and captured pirates were brought out on the stage. The scent of soft sandalwood and rose hit him square in the face, and Shamrock zeroed in on the omega who stood at the end of the line, hands bound in chains. He could tell when you noticed him, head jerking up and meeting his gaze over the heads of the countless alphas and betas that separated the two of you. A sudden need overtook the alpha, a feeling of rage alighting in his breast at the sight of you shackled and vulnerable in front of so many people.

Shamrock stands without thinking, loping forward and down the stairs, heedless of the whispering that suddenly erupted at his sudden appearance. Disco was still rambling away on stage, informing the patrons about each omega and their talents. He halts to a stop when he notices the approaching redhead, eyes going wide as he scrambles back away from the edge of the stage.

“And what a surprise this is! Red-Haired Shanks in my auction house! Even someone like yourself must be interested in one of the healthy omegas on stage. Hmm?”

Shamrock came to a stop just in front of you, burgundy eyes taking you in. You met his gaze head on, something desperate and pleading in the depths of your eyes that made his instincts scream at him to tuck you away somewhere safe and sound. Unbidden, his own scent of clean leather and steel curled forward, and he watched your shoulders relax just a fraction when it reached you.

“This one,” He demands without taking his eyes off of you. Disco huffed and peacocked at his words, but Shamrock’s patience had run thin, and he cut his eyes at the beta, a snarl pulling his lips back to show off his impressive set of teeth, “Now.”

“Fine, fine!” Disco crowed and produced a key, unlocking the chain connected to the other omegas lined up on stage and dropping the length of it into Shamrock’s waiting hands, “Just don’t forget to pay.”

The redhead ignored the auctioneer, far too focused on striding forward to the edge of the stage where he beckoned you near with a jerk of his head. You scrambled closer, a look of intense relief on your face when Shamrock opened his arms for you to throw yourself against him. He catches you with ease, tucking the omega closer and shoving his nose into the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent.

The rose is so much stronger now that he has you close, and he feels his shoulders loosen now that he has you pressed up against him. Without a word, Shamrock spins on his heel and marches out of the auction house, mind set on a mission to get you out of sight of the other alphas who dared to wolf whistle and leer at you. Shamrock would not describe himself as a nice man, but even he was above that kind of behavior.

Shamrock marches on without a real destination in mind, simply content for now to have you pressed so close to him where he knows that you will be safe. He only slows to a stop when he can’t sense anyone else around him, deep in the thick trucks of the mangroves of the archipelago. You have yet to lift your head, but Shamrock doesn’t mind, not when it allows him to check you over.

You are littered with small scars, the rags you have been put in easily showing off the thin lines of scars that criss cross your back. He shoves down the rage that bubbles up in his chest at the sight and continues his examination. You are far too thin for his like, ribs poking out and arms willowy and weak. Your hair is an unwashed, tangled mess that smells of old sweat and the sour stink of fear. He clutches you that much closer, nose nudging against your jaw as he wraps his own scent around you.

“Thank you.”

Your voice is rough, scratchy from crying. You lift your head, eyes meeting the alpha that holds you so tightly, and give him a tiny wobbly smile. You breathe deeply, feeling better when that warm leather and sharp steel scent pours into your lungs, the alpha’s calming pheromones making you relax further in his hold.

Shamrock tries for a smile his brother might give, small and reassuring, and it feels odd painting his lips, but it must do this trick, for his omega blushes and ducks her head, “You don’t have to thank me for saving you.”

You shrug, eyes going glassy for a moment, “I wanted to.”

Shamrock just hums and shifts your weight in his arms. He needed to get back to Mariejois. He’s already been gone far longer than he usually allows himself, and now he has you to take care of. However, he finds himself reluctant to do so, knowing that his father would be the first to know that he had found his mate, and would be furious at you for being a commoner, a slave. He did not want to subject you to Garling, not now, not yet.

“What is your name?” he asks and settles on the ground instead, his back pressed up against one of the trees as he moves you so that you are settled on his lap. The shirt you wear slides down a shoulder and reaches forward to fix it back into place without a second thought.

“_.” You murmur, and feel your heart flutter in your chest at the kind gesture. It was rare for you to be around an alpha who didn’t immediately want to tear your rags off, but this red-haired man was your kindred, your dyad, your mate.

“Disco called you Shanks, but I know that you aren’t him,” you say in soft curiosity. You’d never seen the emperor in person, but you have seen his bounty poster, and the man who held you so gently certainly looked like Shanks, but there were a few key differences there. The additional arm and lack of facial scarring.

“You’re right,” he agrees with a weary smile, “He is my twin brother.”

Shamrock once again finds himself reluctant. This time to share with you the knowledge of just who he was. His people, the royal family, are the reason that you wore the marks on your back, why you had been chained up in line with other omegas, waiting to be sold off to the highest bidder. Shamrock may have not bought you, but he was still a celestial dragon. He did not wish to frighten you now that he had you.

“And your name?” You ask him and then frown down at your shackled wrists when you move your hands. You want to touch your alpha to make sure that this was real and not some dream your mind has conjured up.

To give himself some time, Shamrock focuses on the cuffs around your wrists. He snaps the weak iron with a flare of his strength, pulling the thick metal from your wrists and dropping them to his side. He takes your hands in his own, fingers gently massaging the red skin that’s been left behind.

You shiver at the touch, eyes going half-lidded in pleasure at having this powerful alpha touch you so gently. You look up, face burning hot again when you catch those burgundy eyes with your own.

“You may not like who I am.”

His quiet words make you tense slightly before his scent catches up with you again, and you relax once more. You suck it up greedily, eyes shuttered and tongue sweeping out to wet your lips, “Tell me.”

The alpha shifts under you, looking nervous for a split second before the emotion clears up into determination, “I am the leader of the God Knights, Figarland Shamrock.”

Dread and fear well up inside of you at his admission, your scent of soft sandalwood and rose turning sour like old wine. You tense in his hold, back going rigid as you stare down at the alpha. You would never be able to escape them, would you?

A wet laugh escapes you, the sound a bit hysterical, but you make no move to try and escape him, for what would be the point?

“Darling?” Shamrock murmurs, and his hand comes up to cup your cheek, holding you gently as you laugh, tears welling up and sliding down your cheeks to drip and stain the shirt he wears. He isn’t prepared for this kind of reaction, had tensed in preparation for you to try and run from him, for you to yell and snarl and bare those omega teeth in threat, not whatever this was.

“I’ll always be a slave, won’t I?” You say between, voice turning into a hiccuping mess. You grip his shoulders, eyes turning a bit wild at the edges. His scent attempts to calm you, but you are far too worked up now, “I’ll never be free.”

Shamrock feels stricken. He wasn’t good at providing comfort, and that familiar rage began to climb up his throat again. Not at you, how could he be angry with you over being so broken, but at his own people, at himself, even indirectly, for being the cause of your fear. How could you believe him when he was a slaver himself?

“Darling, I-,” He cuts himself off, face turning into a dark scowl. Shamrock doesn’t know what to tell you. He would be expected to show you to his father the moment he arrived back at the household, and he knew it would send you right back over the edge. He would not be able to hide you, not when he knows that his own scent has changed already, his warm leather and steel already entwined with your own sandalwood and rose.

Were you some omega he had just met. His mate, his dyad - his alpha screamed at him, is it more important than the life he has dedicated himself to? Would he bring himself to leave the only life he has ever known just so that you would know freedom?

They would be hunted down by the god knights if they left, the punishment unimaginable if they were to be caught. Could Shamrock take that risk? For himself, for you?

When he looks at you and sees that resigned horror in your eyes, sees the way that you seem to have already given up, Shamrock finds that he could. He did not wish for you to live a life sequestered away, hidden like some terrible secret just because of where you came from. You wanted to be free so he would make it happen, regardless of the consequences.

“We will run,” he says, and now that it’s been said out loud, the more the decision solidifies in his mind. The god knight lifts his hands, holding your face between his palms as he meets your eyes. They are full of disbelief and tentative hope, “We will run, and you will be free.”

The omega in his hold keens and throws herself at him, hands sliding up to cup just under his ears, lips meeting his own in a kiss of desperate relief. Shamrock kisses you back with ease, matching your frantic pace. The touch of his mate’s lips against his own makes all the pain and stress that would inevitably crash around them worth it, and he knew just who could help the two of them.

@mit-suri @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin @mfreedomstuff

#one piece #reader insert #one piece x reader #figarland shamrock x reader #figarland shamrock #shamrock x reader #shamrock one piece #one piece manga spoilers

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sabrinahawthorne · 3 hours ago

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Sorry to OP, Jack, and Aaron, but it's my turn to hijack. Because as it turns out, I've also been thinking about this, and I have an additional solution: Cultivate a Casual Audience.

I spent most of the latter half of 2024 thinking about this issue, by way of thinking about a more pressing issue for me: how to make a living doing this. I'm a disabled artist who's largely unable to work otherwise, and I'd really like to have enough income of my own that I don't always have to rely on those very supportive people in my life. Eventually, I came up with a plan.* Walk with me.

Imagine that you're starting up a local movie theater, and you're pondering the topic of audience. What kind of audiences do you want to draw for the best balance of profit and taste? It seems to me that you have three options: 1. Pander to the MCUboys. This is a super reliable audience, obviously, and they've got money to spend. The problem with this approach is that you're just further slicing the pie - sure, they're a big audience, but you're only ever going to draw a proportional fraction of them, roughly evenly split with all the other theaters in town, including the AMC downtown. Plus, you'd be tying yourself to a property that won't last forever; it's not sustainable, even if it's profitable now. 2. Pander to the Indieboys. This also isn't a great plan - sure, the indie folks are by far your most dedicated crowd. They'll show up for anything, and they'll do it regularly. But as with all indie art circles, they've been passing the same $20 around for the last decade. It's just not profitable enough to keep your business afloat. 3. Cater to a Casual Audience. As a movie exhibitor, this is easy. Everybody goes to the movies! All you have to do is do stuff other than just movies! Maybe sell food in your lobby space and fill it with seating - now it's a dinner spot, too! Or maybe sell local art, too. That way you're getting the attention of people whose focus isn't on movies, and maybe they'll decide to book a ticket to something while they're here having a meal with their visiting parents.

In my city, the local indie theater does all of that and more; they hold monthly workshops where a local artist teaches a workshop on how to do their weird niche thing. In fact, I did one last year, and it was great! About seven people showed up, and one of them was my mom. But you know something? I made a tidy little profit from tickets, and sold a few games besides.

You may have spotted the problem: that being that tabletop RPGs don't have a casual audience. This artform is stuck between two extremes: the MCU and the gorehounds. As others have pointed out - 99% of people who've heard of this medium at all have exclusively heard of D&D, including a lot of pretty hardcore, invested D&D fans. On multiple occasions, I've tested the waters by asking someone if they play RPGs, with the response being "yeah! I've been playing D&D with my friends for like three years!" and then, when I ask if they've ever played anything else, they hit me with the "there are other games? I had no idea!" It's not just that D&D is the most popular thing; it's that to most people - even those who we would consider significantly invested in the medium - D&D is the only thing. The idea that other games can exist at all is alien to a lot of folks. Pretty scary, huh?

Well, here's the twist. It's actually a super solvable problem, and you might be able to do it where you live, for free.

Step 0: First Principles Before you begin, you'll need to iron out your goals and your approach. For me, this is pretty simple - one, I don't talk about D&D. Whenever I'm talking about RPGs, especially to newbies, I straight-up act as if D&D doesn't exist unless someone else brings it up. If I need a standard fantasy RPG that's still in print, I default to Pathfinder, or something more niche if I think I can afford it.† Two, I decide right now that selling my own product is going to be pretty low on my priority list. This is for two reasons, the most relevant one being optics - I want people to feel like I really care about this hobby (which I do, to be clear), and promoting my own work when I could be spotlighting other people's games is going to clock as kind of shady to some people. Because, frankly, it is.

Step 1: Avoid Your Local Game Store Which isn't to say don't shop there, obviously. I only mean that for this little project of yours, the local store won't work. Why? Survivorship bias. Your friendly local game store is, through no fault of their own, the MCU theater. They only pay rent because they sell D&D and Magic cards - and let's be real, Magic cards are the smaller market. Don't blame them for this; they're doing everything they can, and the fact that they can afford to buy stock of Monsterhearts, or Avatar: Legends is a mark of their success. But the fact is, they're the plane that made it back. Their audience is almost entirely D&D-heads. Those aren't the people you're trying to reach. Instead, you're looking for a local art spot. A popular coffee shop that doubles as a gallery; A used bookstore with weekly storytimes and programs for local authors. Somewhere that meets these two criteria: a) they cater to a wide, casual market who do not come here for tabletop RPGs, and b) hold any kind of regular event. Poetry readings, book clubs, anything like that.

Step 2: Talk To The Owners I'll be real - this is the step where I got the most lucky. See, I was about two days into formulating this plan when my local movie theater decided to start hosting weekly board game nights. As in, anyone can show up, bring-your-own-game, play with whoever you like. For free. The opportunity fell into my lap. Even if I hadn't already done business with this place, I wouldn't have needed to bring this plan up with them. They'd just given me a free opportunity. You may not be so fortunate. In your case, then, you'll want to bring your pitch around and see who bites. In many cases, this is going to be you starting up a new event at this location, and that means a lot of responsibility on your shoulders to maintain the schedule, the marketing, etc. The thing is, though – there’s always more going on in your city than you imagine. In my experience, a lot of these local art spaces are pretty bad at advertising themselves, and all it takes is a little searching and some in-person friendships to get you in touch with something you can take advantage of. Maybe your library has some kind of regular mingling event – old-school fantasy geek meetups, or a star-trek fan group who meets every other week at the mom & pop diner. See if there’s something you can ride the coattails of, before you take the leap of organizing your own event.

Step 3: Be Prepared I made a spreadsheet. I have the next six months planned. I don’t go to every game night – instead, I show up every other week. I’m there the full two hours, no matter what. Unless I have to, I never show up alone. I bring pre-made characters, a pre-written module, pencils, paper, dice, and two dice boxes. If I have one, I bring a physical copy of that week’s game. If nobody bites, no worries – I just carry over that game to the next week, ad nauseum, until it gets played. I select for smaller games that I already own. One-pagers, zines, that sort of thing. I also select for games I think are either accessible to newbies, or which I would consider required reading. Lasers & Feelings; Roll for Shoes; Crash Pandas. I also selected my timeframe very carefully. I’d burn out if I prepared a new game with characters and an adventure every week, and people would forget about me if I did it only once a month. So it’s every other week; enough time to not stress overmuch about prep, but not so long that people forget, or quietly assume I stopped coming.

Step 4: Persist Then, I mingle. I talk to people who show up alone; I make a show of being an open table. And I ask everyone I meet: “Do you know what you’re playing tonight?” This step takes patience. A fucking lot of patience. My first two weeks (which is to say, my first full month, real-time), nobody bit. That was due to a combination of factors; for one, it was still January, and the event was pretty dead. It’s gotten better since. For another, I went alone those weeks. It felt kind of pathetic, honestly – but I knew what I wanted, and I was willing to wait for it. And it’s working. My last showing, I came with two friends, and two other people showed up. One of them told me at the end of the night that he had someone in mind to invite along. Folks, this is a long game. A really long game. My plan is to do this every other week for the rest of the year, barring a few things, and my goal by the end of 2025 is to have four, maybe five, regulars. But I know what I’m here for, and I know it’s going to take a while.

I’m cultivating a casual RPG market in my town. Because that’s really what we need, isn’t it? This is a really niche hobby, but it doesn’t have to be. Wizards of the Coast have proven, in their own slimy way, that RPGs can appeal to a huge array of people, if they’re given an open door. If you care about de-monopolizing this hobby and opening it up for more artists to be able to make a living, then our goal needs to be generating a casual gaming audience that isn’t funneled through the filter of D&D to get to the other side of indie. They need the opportunity to try out the medium from other angles. And if you’ve got the time, energy, and inclination, I think you can give it to them.

*This plan won't work for everyone. In fact, I suspect it won't work for most of us, for one reason or another. I think I'm pretty lucky both in terms of the support network I have in my private life, as well as some of the material & geographic resources at my disposal, and this solution requires all three. But I hope that some of what I outline here is transferable to other people's circumstances as well.

†Hey. Hey, look at me. Look me in the eyes. Pathfinder is indie. No, stop. Look at Me. D&D is the only mainstream RPG. I'm not kidding, and I'm not exaggerating. Please, please understand that you and I are the kinds of movie fans who think Reanimator is mainstream, okay? We're the indie freaks who are passing that $20 around. We have a tendency to lose perspective on what the average normie has heard of, let alone played. I'm begging you not to discourse about this in the notes.

Art Communities and TTRPGs

I recently read an article by @toyourstations (which you can read here) about art revolutions, both online and in physical space. It makes the point that art communities online are generally fairly insular, rarely reaching out beyond a small circle of other artists. To combat this, the article argues that you as an artist should find a way to exist in physical space around people who are not in your small group and share your art there. It's a topic that I had been thinking about a lot lately as I've been making a conceited effort to connect more people in the indie ttrpg space and encourage more community amongst artists.

I've noticed a trend that relates to both of these topics. It seems to me that people in the indie ttrpg community online rarely interact with other's works. I see in other art mediums an outpouring of interaction on even the most sophomoric works. Yet amongst ttrpg writers, I see posts of well made projects with little to no interaction or feedback. This is purely subjective and my experience may be skewing my view on the topic but it seems to hold true.

I have a few theories.

This is obviously a fairly small community, but there are at least other artists here that would have opinions about the projects they see. Are people scared to interact; to give criticism, both good or bad? You would think in such a small community of creator/artists that people would be sharing ideas and writing critique.

The most cynical theory is that creators don't want to boost up other projects as they see them as competition. There is a feeling that there is only enough oxygen in the room for one or two projects to exist and you don't want to lift up other projects when it may result in the starvation of your own.

There is also the time investment. It takes time to read and interact with ttrpgs. Playing/testing them is a whole other level of commitment. But there must be some people who at least read or skim projects. Why do they not leave comments. Does it really come down to the size of the community? Are there just not enough people interested in projects outside of their own?

----

I do feel that I need to state that this opinion is not a reflection of my personal project's engagement. I am fairly happy with how they have performed considering my size and reach. This frustration is mostly a product of seeing other projects and artist gain zero traction when I think their projects are worthwhile. This also goes beyond Tumblr as a platform. Obviously there are a million factors that play into this, but I think a community initiative to engage more with smaller works could change the landscape of the ttrpg community online.

#indie ttrpgs #ttrpg #not game design #cultivating an audience

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