#I’m trying new things with shading techniques

[birbmonster]

drops Carrilong art and leaves

[samaraxmorgan]

Made a quick lil drawing based off of @yuujispinkhair ‘s hockey-player!Sukuna series!!! A chapter ago she wrote him practicing in a compression shirt and shoulder pads and my brain went brrr 😵‍💫 asksksk!! Go read the series if you haven’t already!!!

More than welcome to repost with credit!!

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: angst ig

gn reader

Gojo has loved you forever.

When the two of you were toddlers, he was never shy about kissing you and holding your hand. It was only when the two of you began school that he was taught that it wasn’t proper – a schooling that made him frown.

But his love for you never dimmed despite it. Growing up, he became nothing shy of a true bully pulling his crush’s pigtails. He’d flash his six-eyes and limitless techniques and tease you for your subpar cursed energy – often rescuing you like a faux knight in shining armor.

But despite acting like your older brother – he’s really been dreaming of you in carnal ways ever since he first found out what sex was.

Which is why he’d sling his arm around your shoulder when you were talking with other guys – having grown up so tall, he’d have to all but bow in order to level with the small fries – a sly smirk on his lips with his shades low on his nose.

“Ah – I didn’t know you had a boyfriend – I’m sorry.” They’d always stutter – feeling the chills of those icy blues pierce through to their bones.

“Ugh, Gojo – get off – you’re too heavy.” You’d argue in a familiar whine, shoving at his lanky shape – already fuming. “He’s not my boyfriend – he’s just a dumbass with no respect for personal space.”

“Oh – I’m more than that~” He’d insist. “Y’know, we got married on the playground when we were six.”

You’d roll your eyes at his attics. Huffing out a growl at him. But no amount of clenched fists and angry brows could hide the embarrassment. And ultimately, no guy really dared try their luck with you after being introduced to the white-haired childhood friend giving them death glares.

Which is why it’s baffling when he finds out about the wedding.

He’d seen you less and less over the years. He’d been busy as the newly awakened honored one – new missions almost every day. 

You’d capped out as a second-grade sorcerer and decided to become a teacher in Kyoto – sent out on missions every now and again, but mostly just to supervise students. 

He’d been glad you settled on something safe and not something you’d sooner end up being killed – like him. But he wasn’t overly fond that you’d chosen Kyoto over Tokyo where he could keep an eye on you.

But he supposes that’s exactly why you’d done it.

He knows he coddles you – knows you’ve always hated it – knows you hate it because you know he’s right to do it – knows you’d be dead if it weren’t for him.

How could you marry someone else? How could you choose anyone other than him?

He doesn’t respond to the invite. Doesn’t answer when you call. 

He’s gone for several months. 

You know through the assistant supervisors that he’s still accepting missions – out on the prowl, killing curses – doing little else.

You try to deny knowing why he’s upset. You love him like family, but he’s always been a child with too many toys – you, one of them. This is him throwing a fit over someone else taking what’s his.

But you know he’ll come to his senses after cooling off. You know he’ll be at the wedding – all smiles – if not happy, then pretending for your sake. 

In all his strange ways, you know that he loves you. And despite being childish, you know he’ll do the adult thing and let you go.

The two of you would never have worked. Which is why you’ve never given in to his googly eyes – that hand on your thigh when the two of you’d been drinking – that lingering stare resting on your lips – and those silver-toned words on his.

He’s with someone new every other week despite his unfair hold on you – keeping you for himself – placing you on a shelf among the other things he hopes he’ll one day grow into – like a pair of shoes bought a size too big.

But you know he’ll never get there. He’ll never mature enough to hold a relationship for any longer than a month or so – never mature enough to settle down somewhere and not hotel-hop from one five-star to the next – never mature enough to respect you the same way he respects himself – never mature enough to commit to anything but himself.

The two of you could never be a couple. You could never love each other in the ways you want to be loved. He would want you to stay at home and wait for him to come back – longingly as a sweet housewife would – and you’d want him to encourage you in your respectful career – happy for you like a supportive husband would. None of it matched.

You love him, but you would never be happy with him. You would never feel respected. 

So, that night when the two of you’d shared a kiss – you’d held him at arm's length and told him it was a mistake – that it would only serve to ruin your friendship. 

He’d taken it as you being flighty – just a cute road bump before you’d finally realize you were meant for him – before you’d come running to his arms with pretty tears dropping from your eyes while throwing yourself at him – all apologies and confessions and desperate kisses – telling him you couldn't live without him.

But there you are…

Walking down the aisle for someone else.

[headcaasefiction]

Kinktober 2024

Day 4: Humiliation/Praise

(Dracule Mihawk/AFAB!Reader)

Minors Do Not Interact

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 12,350

Summary: Y/N is a student at Dracule Mihawk’s academy for swordsmen, and harbors a massive crush on him. She is a teacher’s pet, his star pupil, and she would do anything for him. Things become heated when Mihawk begins to push and test her limits, both publicly and privately.

Warnings: Non-negotiated Kink, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, DubCon, Student/Teacher relationship, Drinking, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Mentions of Anal, Spanking, Sir Kink, Dominant/Submissive, Biting/Marking, Pet Names.

Author’s Note: Well…October has been kicking my ass. I had so many fics planned for Kinktober (I still do, they will get written eventually, just not all in October) and then I got sick. Then this one completely got away from me, it’s twice as long as I ever intended it to be. I also know that it’s not the 4th, but this was the 4th prompt on my Kinktober list, so I’m not going to worry about the dates lining up. Anyway, I hope this 12,000+ word fic makes up for my absence lately. I love you all and hope you enjoy!

You have been a pupil of Mihawk’s Academy for just over a year now. There is yourself, and fourteen other students who live with him in his castle on the grounds of Gloom island, all learning the art of Swordsmanship together.

Mihawk is a brutal master, who expects nothing less than complete and utter devotion, discipline, and concentration from every single one of his students. At the beginning of the year there had been twenty in the group, now only fifteen remain. The others either left on their own accord, or at the very worst, were personally cast out by Mihawk himself.

You swore you would see your training to the very end, no matter how many years or even decades it took, swore you would stop at nothing in order to be his most dedicated student.

Every day you wake before the crack of dawn; you clean and nourish yourself, perform your warm up exercises, clean your sword, and then wait patiently at the training grounds with a copy of a book you have previously seen him read. Every day, you are the very first to arrive, and the last to leave every training session.

All of your fellow swordsmen tend to poke fun at you for your rigid regime, especially because you know you are not the strongest pupil at the academy. You rely more on defense, your offense lacking brute strength, but making up for it with how physically fast and quick-witted you can be during sparring matches.

Above all else, they call you a teacher’s pet. Though that’s very easy to tell, seeing as you hang onto Mihawk’s every word, are the first to volunteer for any new exercises or demonstrations, and meticulously practice the routines and techniques until you can’t physically hold your sword any longer.

A few, who you do consider to be your friends, have even figured you out.

“You like him, don’t you?” Maryelle had asked you one night, with a playful gleam in her eye, causing your cheeks to burn a deep shade of crimson red, “Look, I get it. He’s sexy in a scary kind of way.”

Your other friend, Hari piped in as well, “I guess that’s why I don’t get it,” he shrugged, “He’s such a stoic hardass. Yeah, he’s the world’s greatest swordsman, and a good teacher, but he freaks me out.”

You had laughed, still a bit embarrassed, but you admitted, “A little, but I also think he’s brilliant, and beautiful…”

It is the highlight of your entire week if he even casts a spare glance your way, those piercing golden eyes sending shivers up your spine… but during one session, just a week ago, he did something that you’re pretty sure made your entire year:

While he was wandering the training grounds, watching each student practice the new blade technique he had just taught, he paused to observe you. You held your gaze straight forward, trying to pretend like he wasn’t there, just focusing on controlling your legs, arms, and sword down to the smallest detail. After you completed the movements several times, he approached you, getting so close you could feel his warm breath tickle the shell of your ear, as he lowly whispered, “Good girl.”

He walked away as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The interaction left you stunned, breathless, with an ocean of heat roaring in your blood.

That night you touched yourself; rubbing your clit and stuffing as many of your fingers in your wet, greedy cunt as you could manage. You imagined he was at the foot of your bed, lounging in a chair, arms and legs crossed, glowing eyes gazing at you as he told you, “Good girl…now cum for me.”

The next day, you were noticeably distracted. Instead of listening intently to the lecture Mihawk was giving, you were paying far much more attention to the color and fullness of his lips, the sharp, devilishly handsome angle of his jaw and cheek bones, the firm tautness of his bare chest and abdomen, and how his tall, broad figure would look leaning over you as he thrust into your –

“Y/N.”

His booming voice had violently snatched you out of your daydream, leaving you dazed and horrified as you noticed that every single one of your classmates’ eyes were focused on you. Your entire body flushed, and you could’ve sworn that the tips of your ears were burning off.

“Y-yes, Sir?”

“Would you be so kind as to demonstrate the shikake-waza and oji-waza I described at the beginning of the lesson?”

You had no idea what he was talking about, not a single clue. His eyes were burning holes into you with unblinking, direct contact. The courtyard was completely silent, except for the faint sounds of birds chirping in the trees. You felt as though you would be crushed under the unbearable weight of the shocked expressions of your peers as you sheepishly stuttered your answer, “I-I can’t, Sir. I do not know them…”

“Were you or were you not standing there as I myself, demonstrated them this morning?”

You were so embarrassed you thought you might faint, you bit your lip before responding, “Yes, I was standing right here.”

He stalked towards you, leaning down just inches from your face, “No point in coming so early if you can’t even bother to pay attention. No one likes a performer, Y/N.”

With that he turned on his heel and walked back to the center of the courtyard, leaving you trembling, and nearly in tears. The hushed whispers of your fellow pupils ringing in your ears as the lesson continued on, Mihawk calling on another student to perform what you could not.

The following days after, you were determined to get back in his good graces. He had been impressed with you before, had called you a good girl, and you refused to let one slip up ruin everything you had worked so hard for. But that was proving to be more of a challenge than you previously thought.

Throughout the rest of the week you seemed to have a target on your back, and Mihawk’s hawk-eyes were completely locked in on it. No matter how hard you tried, nothing you did was good enough for him. Your stance was lousy, your posture was poor, your movements too slow, your techniques not accurate, your sword not sharp enough. The list continued, with every single criticism said loudly, and within earshot for the entirety of your peer group to hear.

“Y/N, what did you do to piss him off so badly?” Maryelle had asked, brow furrowed with concern, “I’ve never seen him be this hard on someone before… do you think he’s going to throw you out of the academy?”

You shook your head, feeling defeated. You were exhausted, both physically and emotionally, “I really don’t know… I didn’t mean to zone out at the beginning of the week, I’ve just had a lot on my mind I guess.”

Hari patted you on the shoulder, and with a surprisingly sympathetic tone, he said, “I doubt he’s going to kick you out, he probably would’ve already done that by now. Maybe he’s just pushing you super hard so you unleash your true potential or something.”

“You’re probably right. I can’t afford to slack for even a moment, I know I can do better.”

“Soo…do you still have a crush on him then?” Maryelle teased, poking you in the side.

“Shut up,” you grinned, your cheeks glowing a light pink as you gently shoved her by the shoulder.

That had made you feel a little better, kept your spirits up and reignited your will power. You were going to impress him and show your worth even if it fucking killed you.

Training was still extraordinarily tough though, and it was well established at this point that Mihawk was picking on you in front of everyone when he forced you to spar with five of your classmates in a row one morning.

You panted hard as your chest heaved with exertion; heart beating in your throat, hair wild and dripping with sweat, and more than a few cuts and bruises littered your skin.

“Again.” He demanded, motioning at another student to come forward.

Your fellow pupil looked more than a little concerned, hesitantly glancing between you and Mihawk before taking her stance, sword in hand. Even out of concern for your safety, no one was willing to challenge the teachings of their master.

Without another word you lunged forward, swords clashing as you tried to dive in between her waist and arm to twist the blade from her grasp. It was an attempt to end the fight as quickly as possible, as you were not sure how much longer you could last. But you failed the disarm, her hand hooking under your armpit and flinging you over her shoulder before throwing you to the ground, knocking the wind out of you.

You groaned in pain, struggling to get air into your constricted lungs, while little black spots dipped in and out of your vision, one hand blindly groping the ground for your sword that you could not find.

Suddenly Mihawk was looming over you, tall, broad, and terrifying, almost how he looked in your nighttime fantasies and daydreams. Your sword was gripped in his hand, and he had a stern and disappointed look that shadowed over his face. He tsked at you, bringing the tip of your blade to your chin to slightly lift your head up towards him.

“Is that all you have left in you?”

You bit your lip, chest still heaving to catch your breath, fingers gripped tight in the grass beneath you as a single tear slid down the side of your face. You had no words, you just gently shook your head, and squeezed your eyes shut in defeat.

“Pity… go clean yourself up. Meet me in the ball room after lunch. Bring your sword.” He then drove your sword into the ground close by your shoulder, turned his back, and began to walk towards the castle, “Class dismissed.”

The rest of the students cleared out of the courtyard almost immediately, some gave you looks of pity, others completely ignored your pathetic, sprawled out body and rushed inside, grateful that they were not the object of Mihawk’s wrath.

Hari and Maryelle were the only ones that stayed behind with you, grabbing your sword and helping you to sit up as you began to sob. This was more than embarrassment, this had gone so much farther beyond that point now. You had never felt so utterly humiliated in your entire life, and now you had to face him alone later that afternoon.

Maryelle held you as you cried, arm wrapped tight around you as you limped and leaned against her back to your room, Hari carrying your sword for you with a hand softly placed on your back.

“He’s a prick, Y/N.”

“I know, I know,” you cried, sitting on the edge of your bed with your head in your hands, “I just want him to like me!”

Later that afternoon, after you cleaned yourself up, soaked your aching limbs in the tub, and bandaged your minor wounds, you joined Maryelle and Hari in the dining hall for lunch. When you entered, an uncomfortable silence hung in the room, followed by a surge of hushed tones and whispers as you walked to your seat.

Both Hari and Maryelle rolled their eyes as you sat down next to them, “Ignore them, they’re assholes.”

You began to pick at your food, trying your best to calm your frazzled nerves, “I know, they’re honestly the least of my worries right now.”

“…what do you think is going to happen?” Maryelle asked softly.

“I have no idea. He could throw me out, he could scream at me, he could fight me, he could kill me…”

Hari’s eyes went wide, and he grabbed your hand, “Y/N, he’s not going to kill you… everything is going to be okay.”

“I sure hope so.”

Once the clock in the dining room chimed 1:00, signaling the end of the lunch hour, you nervously made your way across the castle, and finally ended up outside the large and lavish doors of the ballroom. You had only ever been inside the room once, and it was back when it was your first day on the island. He had lined the entire class up and gave a speech about what he expected out of each and every one of you, how his word was law, and that you all would only be allowed to stay as long as he personally wanted you to.

Before grabbing the large brass handle, you hesitated, anxiety flooding your nervous-system, your pulse thumping in your ears. What if he was going to ask you to leave? And then tell you what a disappointment and waste of time you were all of these months?

Instead you shoved down the racing thoughts, gripped your sword tight, put on a brave face, and opened the door.

He was waiting for you on the far side of the room, seated in a plush red velvet and wood chair reading an old leather bound book.

“Come in.” He ordered, with a subtle flick of his hand, not even looking up from the page.

You closed the door behind you and walked toward him, posture straight, shoulders back as you held your head high, trying to act like you weren’t scared out of your wits. You stopped in front of him, crossing your arms behind your back to wait for further instructions.

After he finished reading his page he placed a bookmark to save his spot, and then he finally looked up at you, eyes as piercing and frightening as ever.

“Do you know why I asked you here today, Y/N?”

You tried to swallow a lump that suddenly formed in your throat, your mouth dry. You cleared your throat and spoke up, “B-because I was unable to finish my sparring match today?”

Mihawk closed his book and set it aside, rising from his seat to his full height to tower over you, and look you straight in the eyes, “No, not because of that.”

He stepped even closer, forcing you to crane your neck to hold his gaze, refusing to back down from the slight advance.

Your brows furrowed, your hands clenching and unclenching with a touch of nerves and confusion, “Do you… do you want me to fight you, Sir?”

It was nearly impossible to read the expression on his face most of the time, always so stoic, stern, and serious, so this time you were taken aback by the slight smirk that graced his face for a moment. He turned around, placing his hat on the same side table where he put his book, before walking over to a rack that held several variations of swords. He pondered them for a moment, then picked up a long, slender rapier, one that was quite similar to your own.

“You’re a good fighter, Y/N, but a sword fight would be very one-sided, I’m afraid.”

The way he put that was odd, you thought, while you watched him gracefully swish the sword in a sharp arch over his head, testing the balance of it.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I’m a little bit confused…”

Suddenly, without warning, he lunged at you; the tip of his blade piercing through the air at lightning speed, and it was like you were seeing it happen in slow motion. Without even thinking, you ducked out of the way, rolling back and to the side to create some distance between the two of you.

You leaped up onto your feet, extending your sword just above your head in time to parry his next attack, the clash of metal ringing throughout the room. He swung at you again, narrowly missing your shoulder as you spun around, twisting low to the ground to aim for his knee. He blocked that too, exerting his weight and tremendous strength through the blade, sending you sliding back on the marble floor onto your knees.

“Good, very good,” he drawled, standing up straight once more from his attack position, “Even quicker than this morning, I see.”

You breathed slowly, in through your nose and out of your mouth, trying your best to steady your heart-rate. He had truly taken you by surprise, and you were almost sure you would’ve been dealing with a rather painful puncture wound had you not stepped out of the way in time.

From your new position on the floor, you realized he had barely moved, but somehow had managed to get you to three separate points in the room, all within 10 to 15 feet of each other. Yet he just stood there, looking at the blade he held in his hands, as if he were bored.

That image of him lit a fire under your ass. He was just toying with you, toying with you like he had been doing all damn week, and he looked good while doing it. This stupid man, who was the object of your desire, who you gave up your entire life for to follow his teachings. This stupid man whose approval you craved more than anything else on earth, whose hypnotic voice had crippled your year long streak of concentration, and resolve with only two words. This man, who was so stupid, and tall, and handsome, and perfect and it made you want to scream.

In a sudden fit of rage, a pure lapse in judgement, you rose to your feet and ran at him full force. You darted your blade out forward, first to his right, then left, and up towards his neck while simultaneously crouching down to kick out your leg, a vain attempt to push him off balance. None of it worked; he blocked and out-maneuvered every single slash, blow, and limb that you swiped at him, while not even breaking a sweat.

With an angry shout, you rose your blade above your head to slash down at him one more time, a stupid, childish move that left you extremely open and vulnerable.

Before you even knew it, he parried you, knocking your sword straight from your grasp, causing it to scatter across the room. Then with another sudden movement, he snatched both of your wrists up in one of his large hands, shoved you against the nearest wall, and pinned them above your head.

You expected him to point his blade at your throat, demand that you beg to stay, or possibly tell you to pack your things and get the hell out before he decided to kill you. But he said no such thing, instead he just ended up surprising you again.

“I think that’s quite enough of that,” he said calmly, setting the sword aside to lean on a nearby bookshelf while one of his knees slid between your legs, making your eyes go wide.

Heat shot through you, sparks of pleasure licking up your insides as he gazed down at you. He was close, so close you knew he could see the deep blush that covered your face and neck; so close that he could see your dilated pupils, blown wide with desperate need.

You panicked, attempting to free your arms and squirm away from him before he could figure out how your body was reacting. But it was no use, his grip was too strong, and his other free hand rested on the wall by your waist. He had caged you in, leaving you completely open to him with nowhere to run to or hide.

“Sir p-please, I’m sorry… I – please don’t make me leave…”

And just when you thought nothing else could shock you anymore, once again you were wrong. Dracule Mihawk smiled at you; a teasing, condescending smile, but a smile none the less, as he inched his knee even further between your legs, “Why would I make you leave when I have you exactly where I want you?”

You were at a loss for words, only an involuntary whimper fell from your lips as you went slack, surrendering all will to his control, ready for whatever he was going to do to you.

“You’re one of my star pupils, Y/N,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your collarbone, leaving goosebumps in their wake, “Your devotion and dedication have not gone unnoticed this past year.”

It felt like your entire body was vibrating on a molecular level, little bursts of heat rolling through your stomach, making your clit throb, aching to be touched. Your eyes fluttered shut, burning every single detail of this moment into your memory.

He pressed himself fully against you, making you gasp as his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “But you can’t scrape by on book smarts and quick reflexes alone. I expect great things of my favorite student.”

You looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, feeling punch drunk and dizzy from his close proximity, “I’m your…favorite?”

In response he smirked at you, his hand finding your waist, thumb grazing over your hipbone, “I know I’ve been cruel this week, but I cannot let the others suspect my favoritism. Let’s keep this between us, yes?”

You nodded dreamily at him as soft shivers tingled under your skin where he touched you, your fingers twitching slightly in his grip, “Y-yes, Sir. I promise I won’t tell anybody.”

“Good girl…” He breathed, and that almost made you cum right then and there. Instead, you bit your lip, trying to stifle the small whimper that poured from your lips.

Finally, he released your hands, causing them to drop weakly to your sides; your knees almost buckling beneath you as he backed away.

“Your training will only get more difficult from here on out, expect to be on your guard at all times now. I don’t want you getting too comfortable.”

He left you dazed as you leaned against the wall, trying to get your bearings while he sat back down in his chair to continue reading his book.

“That is all, Y/N. You are excused.” He said with another wave of his hand, as if your interaction had never even occurred.

With a weak nod you pushed yourself from the wall, your knees still quivering with excitement as you walked past him, picked up your sword, and gently closed the doors behind you.

“Sooo, what happened?” Maryelle had asked as soon as she saw you wandering the corridors hours later, “Are you okay?”

All you could do was shrug, with a gentle shake to your head, attempting to be as nonchalant as possible, “Nothing, we just talked.”

“You just-…you just talked?”

“Yup… we just talked.”

You avoided anyone else for the rest of the day, opting to hike up the hills and train by yourself to relieve your confusion and pent-up frustrations. Later that night, as you got ready for bed, you touched yourself in the shower, biting your wrist while you whimpered and moaned his name, pretending your fingers were his fucking into you while he had you trapped against the wall, fingertips torturing your clit.

The memory of his warm breath tickling your neck, and firm body pressed against yours lulled you to sleep, with those two words echoing in your mind, “Good girl…”

It was finally the end of the long, tortuous week you had endured. As usual, you got up and performed your morning rituals, reading in the courtyard of the training grounds as your peers began trickling in to join you. But much to your and your classmates’ surprise, instead of the normal training session with Mihawk, he announced that he would be going on an excursion for the next week. It had been months since any of you had gotten a break, and he made it a point to tell everyone to actually enjoy the time off.

“My presence is requested by orders of the World Government, which means I will take leave for a week. I suggest you all continue your training on an individual level, but also request that you relax your bodies and minds. One cannot remain sharp without easing one’s troubles every now and then. I only ask that you do not burn the castle to the ground. Anything out of place upon my return, and well…let’s not find out what I would have in store for you all. Class excused.”

As soon as Mihawk left the courtyard, with a swoop of his long coat, and the shadow of his tall figure disappearing down one of the corridors, the entire class bursts out in celebration. Some jumping up and down, cheering and yelling, others immediately beginning to plan for a party and dinner.

Hari and Maryelle come up to you, beaming with excitement.

“A whole week, Y/N can you believe it?!” Maryelle gushes, grabbing your hand to walk along with them, “At least you’ll get a break from his royal jerkiness, yeah?”

“And there’s already a big dinner party being planned for tonight, you’re coming right?” Hari asks.

You were excited to spend more time with your friends, and after the hellish week you had just gone through, you were grateful for some time off, some relief. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that you wouldn’t be seeing Mihawk for an entire week, especially after the tantalizing moment you shared with each other in the ballroom yesterday.

With a forced smile you squeeze Maryelle’s hand and wrap your arm around Hari’s shoulders, trying to cover up your disappointment, “Of course I’ll be there! How about we hit the wine cellar as well? I doubt he’ll miss a few of the not-so-vintage bottles.”

They both grin deviously, clapping you on the back, “Now that’s what I’m talking about, you deserve to let loose a little. Maybe we can even find someone to take your mind off that lousy Hawk-eye.”

You roll your eyes, the three of you following the stream of people back into the castle, a glint of knowing in your eye, “You can try, but I doubt it.”

It was now several hours into the evening festivities, Mihawk has only been gone half the day and already the entire class has taken over the dining hall and common room. A few people have even found a set of instruments and are busy keeping a small group dancing. Some are scattered in small circles drunkenly chatting away, others off in pairs, shamelessly making out in the darkened corners of the room, or sneaking away to the dorms for a quickie.

At the beginning of the night you had been glued to Hari and Maryelle’s side, but as the three of you continued to down glass after glass of the rich red wine Mihawk kept the castle stocked with, you could tell that your presence was getting in the way of their drunken flirting. So you left them sitting together on a couch, Maryelle halfway in Hari’s lap.

You pick up your wine glass and make your way back to the kitchen, searching for an unopened bottle to nurse for the rest of the night.

“May I tempt you?” You hear a low voice ask you from behind.

You turn around, and are met with one of your classmates named Raegan, a tall, blond, decently handsome, and talented swordsman you have sparred with on a few occasions. He’s uncorking a bottle, and smiling down at you as he gestures toward your empty glass.

“Oh please! Thank you.” You smile at him, a slight blush on your cheeks as you give him a once over while he pours you a hefty glass.

“Are you enjoying the night, Y/N?” Raegan questions, tone calming and polite, and thankfully not overly intoxicated like almost everyone else.

“I am!” You nod, taking a sip of your wine, “It’s been one hell of a week, so I’m glad we can all relax for a while. Plus it’s so nice to casually socialize, it seems like the only thing we ever talk about is training.”

“I agree with you there,” he laughs softly, leaning closer to you, “Well, you deserve a break after the hard time he’s been giving you recently. I’m assuming everything went okay when you saw him after lunch? A lot of us we pretty worried about you.”

Your heart-rate elevates slightly at the mention of yesterday’s meeting with Mihawk, your cheeks turning an even darker shade of red as you try to push the memories to the back of your mind.

“Y-yes, it went fine. We just had a talk is all, about-… about me making sure I’m living up to my potential,” you stammer, a little flustered.

Raegan leans down, looking closely at your face while he presses the back of his hand to your forehead, “Are you feeling alright? You’re looking a little red, and you feel warm.”

The gentle gesture catches you off guard, causing a small swarm of butterflies to flutter in your stomach for a moment. You’re flattered by his concern, and it has been such a long time since you’ve allowed yourself to freely flirt with anybody, that you forget about your unrequited crush on your teacher for just a moment. So much of your attention has been focused on Mihawk that you forgot to look that way at anyone else.

“Yeah, I’m fine…it’s just the-…it’s just the wine is all.” You giggle as his hand leaves your forehead, fingertips ghosting down the side of your face as he pulls away.

He smiles at you again, picking up the bottle while he nods toward the common room, “Good. Care to sit and finish this off with me then? I’d love your company.”

“Absolutely.”

He leads you out of the kitchen, and you find an unoccupied couch in a back corner, where you can actually hear each other talk.

As the night continues on, and the warm intoxication from the wine begins to settle in, you notice that you have been inching closer and closer to Raegan for the last half hour. Your thighs pressed flush against one another as you flirt shamelessly, touching his leg when you laugh at one of his jokes.

The wine continues to feed your courage, and you find yourself almost half in his lap, his large hand finally settling on your thigh, giving it a warm squeeze.

“I’m glad this happened tonight,” he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your inner thigh, “I’ve always wanted to talk to you more, but you’re always so concentrated on training… I never thought someone like you would ever give me the time of day.”

You blush, softly tracing the back of his hand with your fingertips, “I get a little lost in it sometimes… what do you mean someone like me?”

“Someone so dedicated, so humble, and talented…” he leans over and murmurs in your ear, causing a shiver of excitement to run down your spine, and a stirring of butterflies in your tummy, “Someone so absolutely gorgeous.”

You sigh, heart fluttering, Fuck it’s been so long, I need this… His face is so close to yours, shadowed with an intense longing, his gaze looking down from your eyes to your lips. He cradles your jaw in his hand, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip before his eyes flutter shut and he guides his lips to yours.

You sink into the kiss for a moment, your hands gripping at his shirt as your body screams at you for more. But after a few moments you break away, a sudden odd feeling washing over you as Mihawk’s face flashes in your mind.

“I-I’m so-so sorry, Raegan I -,” You stammer, feeling confused and flustered while you gently push at his chest to create some distance.

He looks a little hurt, but mostly concerned as he immediately stops touching you, “It’s okay, really Y/N, I came on a little too strong – …”

“I just need to get some air real quick, okay?” You pick yourself up off the couch and begin to retreat to the hallway, “I’m just going to use the restroom, I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting to hear his reply you stumble out of the common room, away from his sincere eyes and warm touches, feeling a little queasy as you head toward the restroom. There’s a weird pit in the center of your stomach now where pleasure used to be, and you can’t help but feel as if you’ve somehow done something wrong.

Get a grip… you mutter to yourself while you enter the washroom, looking at your reflection for a moment; lips plump from kissing, hair a little wild from where he ran his fingers through it, and cheeks tinged a rosy-pink, both from your excitement and the amount of wine you have consumed.

You relieve yourself and wash up, trying your best to empty your mind. Mihawk wasn’t here, and there was nothing between the two of you anyway. On the other hand, there was a hot, sweet, guy your age in the other room who seemed more than interested in fucking you tonight, and you have every right to indulge in that.

I expect great things of my favorite student… his voice lingers in your memory, and you shake it away as you splash cool water on your face to calm your nerves, before drying your hands and heading back through the corridor.

It’s well into the night, and only a faint trace of light illuminates the dark hallways; a hint of moonlight shining through the windows, and a very distant orange glow from the candles lit in the dining room.

You don’t realize how drunk you are until you’ve left the bathroom, the buzz dulling your vision and coordination as your hand slides against the wall for support. Carefully, you put one foot in front of the other, trying to concentrate on not stubbing your toe or knocking something over.

All of a sudden you feel a shiver go up your spine as a shadow moves out of the corner of your eye, startling you. You spin around, scanning the darkened space in a panic, expecting to have stumbled upon one of your classmates, but no one is there.

With your brow furrowed in confusion, deciding that it was just a trick of the light along with your inebriation, you turn back around to continue forward.

That’s when you feel an arm circle around your waist, pinning your arms to your sides, and a hand grip tightly over your mouth.

Your eyes go wide and you try to scream, but the air is squeezed out of you when you are pulled further back into the hallway; the faint noise you squeak out muffled behind their palm, the heels of your boots dragging silently across the carpet.

Whoever has a hold of you is significantly taller and stronger than you, your struggles doing absolutely nothing against their sheer size and brute strength. Your mind goes into panic mode, the weight of drunkenness slowing your reflexes and sapping away your energy, all ounce of your training gone as you squirm in their arms helplessly.

“My, my, what do we have here? Has a little rabbit lost it’s way?” A deep voice teases, tightening their grip around you more to get you to stop wiggling, “I’d be careful with how you move, little one, I might not be able to control myself,” he purrs into your ear, pressing his pelvis into your ass.

You can feel the bulge in his pants harden as he grinds into you. Heat rushes into your cheeks, flooding through your veins as you whimper into his hand, terrified and turned on at the same time.

“Lucky me, it seems like my little rabbit has had too much to drink,” he drawls in your ear, making your heart thump wildly in your chest, “Makes you nice and pliant for me, doesn’t it? So easy to take advantage.”

He finally removes his hand from your mouth to thread through your hair, forcing your head to the side so he can kiss and bite, sucking dark marks into the tender flesh of your neck.

You go slack in his arms, your strength depleted as you surrender to his will, “P-please, don’t… I-I have someone waiting for me, I won’t tell anyone…”

He licks the shell of your ear, pressing you firm between him and the wall, your back slightly arched, one of his feet kicking your legs a part, “Hmmm, and who would you even tell that would actually believe you?”

Nervously you swallow the lump in your throat in an attempt to sound normal, and not the mixture of scared, horny, and disoriented that you actually feel, “I would tell Sir Mihawk, he-he cares for me, he would believe me. So just let me go, and I promise not to tell him.”

“Is that so?”

To your surprise you are flipped around, your back hitting the wall with a dampened thud as your hands are pinned to either side of your head. In the darkness you see two golden orbs peering down at you, your vision adjusting to the faintly shadowed face of Mihawk.

“Sir?!” You exclaim, completely shocked, “But-but you said you were leaving-…”

“What did I tell you the other day, Y/N, hm?” His grip is tight against your wrists, and his sharp features look even more intimidating and angry in the shadows of the moonlight, “What did I make abundantly clear?”

You wrack your hazy mind for what he could be speaking of, but you can’t seem to think of it. All you can remember is how he felt against you, warm and firm and tantalizing, just as he does now, your body aching to be touched as he whispers to you Good girl, Good Girl, Good Girl…

You bite your lip and press your legs together in desperation, your fingers twitching while you whine, “I’m sorry, I don’t remember…”

“Forgotten already?” He sneers, with a sharp suck to his teeth, “How very disappointed I am in you, Y/N. I’m not gone for even a day and your discipline has completely slipped away. I told you, be on your guard at all times.”

Mentally you slap yourself and squeeze your eyes shut to avoid looking at him, shame sinking into your stomach.

“I warned you not to get too comfortable, that I expect better of you. But what do you do once my back is turned? Get drunk and prowl around looking to get fucked? You think I don’t know what is going on inside my own castle? I know Raegan is waiting for you, waiting to take you to his bed.”

Your eyes snap open wide as you shake your head, “No, no! He-he was nice to me, but nothing hap-…”

But he cuts you off again, and you could swear that he sounds jealous, “Is he the reason why I catch you daydreaming in the middle of training?”

He’s flush against you now, his knee pressed up in between your legs, making you gasp as it nudges your clit through your pants, soaking your panties. His eyes are piercing down at you through the dark, his warm breath ghosting over your lips, his mouth just inches from yours.

“No, Sir, not him. He’s not the one I’m thinking of…”

A moment passes and you see a light flash in his eyes, sudden and intrusive before his lips collide with yours, hungry, possessive, and raw. He nips your bottom lip, causing you to cry out at the sharp pain, silencing you with his tongue as it greedily licks into your mouth.

Pleasure sings through your body, his wicked lips leaving trails of electric ecstasy in their wake while he swallows every gasp and whimper you breathe into him, before finally pulling away.

One of his hands snatches both of your wrists, pinning them above your head while he trails kisses down your neck to your collar bone. His free hand reaches under your shirt to caress up your belly, before cupping one of your breasts in his hands, his thumb and forefinger tugging on the sensitive bud of your nipple.

A moan tears itself from your throat, and you bury your heated face into the side of your arm, embarrassed at how eagerly you are reacting to him, like melted putty in his hands.

He groans softly in response, nipping at your earlobe as his hand wanders further down, fingertips dipping below your waistband.

“Tell me no,” he murmurs, unbuttoning the fly of your pants, and inching down your lower stomach, “Tell me no and I’ll stop.”

The pad of his middle finger caresses you, glides along your slit and up to your aching clit, rubbing little circles through your soft, wet panties. Warmth pools in your tummy, throbbing down to your needy cunt as more slick dribbles out to trail down your quivering thighs.

You’re both staring at each other, half-lidded and slack-jawed, desperate for more as your breath mingles together while he teases you mercilessly.

Tell me no and I’ll stop…

But you don’t want him to stop, only want him to take it further; want him to rip your clothes off, dip his fingers inside, then fuck you so hard against the wall that the entire castle hears you cum on his cock.

The thought makes you ache as you whimper, “Mihawk.”

He smirks down at you, pleased with your reaction while he suddenly withdraws his hand from your pants, making you moan in frustration, “No wait, please don’t stop…”

Your hands are released when he kisses you once more, before backing away to give you space, leaving you wanting.

“I’m afraid our time is up for the night, little rabbit. Meet me in my quarters upstairs after sundown tomorrow, tell no one I am here. Do not be late.”

And just like that he melted into the shadows once more, gone just as fast as he had appeared to you. You have no idea how long you have been gone, the interaction feeling both lightning fast, but also like it had transpired over the course of hours, suspended in time.

Your fingertips brush over your tingling, kiss-swollen lips, the remnants of his touch lingering all along your body; yet being all alone in the dark made it almost feel like it was just a dream.

Slowly you pull yourself together, buttoning back up the front of your trousers and smoothing down your hair and blouse. You glide your hand along the wall again, faster this time since your eyes have adjusted to the darkness.

You walk back into the common room, surprised to see that the celebration has not died down yet, and that Raegan is still waiting for you on the same couch, nursing the same bottle of wine.

His eyes brighten a little when you sit down by him again, though this time you put a little distance between the two of you.

His expression is soft and full of concern as he says, “Hey, Y/N are you okay? I was just about to come looking for you.”

You smile and nod, raking your fingers through your hair a little nervously, “Yeah, I’m so sorry, I had way too much wine…look Raegan, I didn’t mean to - …”

He holds his hand up, cutting you off, “Y/N, I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I came on too strong. I just…I really like you.”

You’re flattered, truly you are, but after what just occurred you know there’s no possibility that anything could ever happen between the two of you now. Dracule Mihawk had laid a claim, and there was no way you could go back.

“Raegan, I like you too. You are gorgeous, seriously, and so sweet…but there is someone else, and that’s not going away any time soon.”

“I understand. They’re lucky whoever they are.”

You smile in response, picking yourself up from the couch once more, your buzz now fading into the realm of exhaustion, “I had a great time with you tonight, but I need to go to bed before I end up on the floor.”

He chuckles, holding his glass up in a toast while you begin to walk towards the doorway, “That’s where I plan on being at the end of the night. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The next day you wake up hung over, two hours past when you normally rise, regretting how much you drank the previous night. You make your way to bathroom, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you turn on the faucet and splash your face.

You look in the mirror, your eyes growing wide when you notice the dark red and purple marks littering up the side of your neck and spread down to the hollow of your collarbone. You groan in frustration, realizing you will have to wear turtle-neck shirts and scarves for the next week to avoid anyone seeing them.

The events of last night rush back through your memory, leaving you reeling. It had all seemed like one big magnificent dream, a perfect fantasy that your mind created. But the evidence is littered all over your skin, and in a moment of panic you remember that you promised to meet him later tonight.

What could he possibly want? Had last night been some sort of trick, some sort of test that you had possibly failed?

For the rest of the day you try your best to not agonize over what awaits you in Mihawk’s study tonight. You take an extra long bath, scrubbing away your hangover, and then sneak down to the dining hall for a late breakfast, with the hopes that you won’t run into anyone there. You’re in luck, as it seems all of your classmates are still sleeping off their night of debauchery.

You pack a small bag and head up to the hills behind the castle to be alone, where you read, eat toast and jam, and practice a little bit with your sword. Eventually the day has gotten away from you, and you are shocked when you realize that the sun will set in less than an hour.

Anxiety quickens your heart beat while you gather your things and make your way down to the castle again, admiring the sky bathing the island in reds, oranges, pinks and purples. You wish it wouldn’t end, because for all you know it could be the last time you see the sunset on Gloom island. For all you know you made a terrible mistake last night and he would be throwing you out.

You walk quickly through the hallways, avoiding every single person you pass until you get to your bedroom. You put your sword away in your closet, and give yourself a once over in the mirror. With a sigh you gather your courage, pushing down the mixture of fear and excitement that rolls in your stomach as you make your way up the stairs.

The last bit of light has faded beyond the horizon of the island, shadowing the castle in a dark, eerie blue that creeps in from the hallway windows of the upper floor. You had never been in any of the rooms up here before, everyone knew the top floor was out of bounds to the students, that it was all private to Mihawk.

At first you were not sure which door to knock on, seeing as he hadn’t been very specific. But that’s when you saw a faint strip of light glowing from under a massive set of ornately carved wooden doors.

Slowly you walk up to the doorway, your heart beating in your throat, palms sweaty from nerves. After a moment of hesitation, you squeeze your eyes shut and knock twice.

The light between the cracks of the doors flickers slightly before they open, revealing Mihawk’s piercing eyes staring down at you. He opens the door all the way once he sees that it’s you, and steps to the side to allow you in.

“Please, come in Y/N.”

You bow your head a little, ducking past him in an attempt to hide the blush that’s deepening across your cheeks, his eyes never leaving you. He closes the door behind you, making goosebumps erupt across your skin with a flash of excitement as he brushes behind your back momentarily, before walking over to a chair by his fireplace.

You look around the room, taking in how gorgeous it is. It’s just his style, all black and red velvet, lavish four post bed, intricate rugs and a large fireplace that lights the entire room a glow. It looks overwhelmingly romantic.

“Uhm, Sir?” You say, lacing and twiddling your fingers together nervously, “Did I…was last night some kind of test?”

There is a pause in the air while Mihawk pours himself a glass of wine, swirling and savoring it with a gentle sip, before his eyes lock onto yours, predatory and serious.

“A test? What kind of test would that be, hm?”

He moves toward you, slowly, his tall form casting a long shadow over you. You bite your lip, and inch back subconsciously, unable to look him in the eyes as he continues his advance.

“I-I’m not sure…” You mutter, glancing up to see him circle around you, “This past week has been so-so… confusing.”

He smirks down at you after taking another sip of his wine, nonchalantly swirling it, eyeing the red liquid as if bored; as if he had no clue how questionable and different your relationship had been lately.

“Whatever do you mean, Y/N? I think I’ve made my intentions abundantly clear.”

Your brows furrow together, and you wipe your perspiring hands against your shirt as he continues to circle you like a hawk, “You’ve been testing me, I’m sure of it…testing my will-power, my patience.”

Mihawk stops in his tracks behind you, and you feel an electric shock pulse up your spine when he caresses the back of your shoulders, making you gasp softly in surprise when he murmurs in your ear, “Is that so? Well then, how do you think you’re doing so far?”

You shiver, eyes fluttering while his fingertips continue their gentle exploration of your neck, hair, and shoulders, “You haven’t thrown me out yet… do you test all of your students this way?”

Your body goes lax when you feel his arms snake around your waist, pressing the front of his body to your back, his lips brushing along the shell of your ear, “No, just you… I knew you were special the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

You shut your eyes and bite your lip, your heart thumping so loud you can feel it in your ears. With a slight moment of hesitation you slowly bring your hand up behind you, and dare to run your fingers through his thick, dark hair. You hear him sigh, and his head relaxes on your shoulder as the two of you hold one another; but it doesn’t last long as he withdraws from you, wandering back over near the fireplace to sit in his black velvet chair.

His eyes are back on you with that predatory look once more, gazing at you over the lip of his wine glass while he takes another sip, un-blinking.

You’re speechless, your skin tingling where he touched you, your core fluttering as you press your legs together, wetness flooding your panties. His eyes look you up and down, his pupils blown wide, making you blush when it looks like he’s enjoying watching you squirm.

Suddenly he puts his wine down, and sits on the edge of his seat, elbows on his knees, looking you in the eye and firmly saying, “Take off your clothes.”

Your eyes go wide and your mouth opens in shock, thinking he can’t possibly be serious, “Wh-what?”

“You heard me, Y/N. Take off your clothes.”

You fold your arms tight to your body, and bite your lip, shaking your head, “Is this… this is another test isn’t it?”

“I wonder, or do you think we’re possibly past that now?” He drawls, one of his eyebrows quirked up in a faux-puzzled expression, “Now I don’t like to be kept waiting, Y/N. I said take off your clothes.”

Heat floods you head to toe, head reeling, his authoritative words ringing in your ears. His eyes are fixed on you, stern and swimming with impatience.

Your body slightly trembles as you play with the hem of your shirt, debating on whether or not you are going to obey him. You’ve never disobeyed an order from him before, and your body aches for him, is screaming at you to strip and offer yourself. But there is still a seed of doubt in your mind, a fear that if you blindly debase yourself for him that he will be disgusted by you.

In the end, your carnal desires win when you lift your shirt over your head and drop it to your feet, your boots and pants coming off next until you are left in your bra and panties, skin tinged pink with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment as he stares at you.

“Come here,” he beckons, twitching his fingers in a come-hither motion, his yellow eyes almost black while his blown-out pupils rake over your body.

You obey, stumbling forward slightly, your knees knocking together while you look at the floor to avert his searing gaze. You stop about a foot away from him, the heat from the fireplace warming you, the light from the flames dancing along your exposed skin.

Finally you look up at him once more, the fire flickering back in his eyes, making him look even more dangerous than he normally does. He takes a deep breath, his teeth raking his bottom lip before he says, “Take off all of your clothes.”

You shiver at his tone, deep and serious, a wave of arousal rolling through your tummy. You expected that he would ask this, but in the back of your mind you didn’t think he would go this far.

Every limit you ever thought you had is surpassed the moment you unhook your bra and abandon it on the floor, your breasts perking up as they are exposed to the open air; your panties soon after being tugged down your legs and kicked away.

Mihawk is on the edge of his seat, staring you down with a possessive and heated look when he finally speaks again, “Now, get down on your knees.”

You blush furiously, but comply, sinking down to your knees on the plush carpet in front of him, covering your breasts with your arms and pressing your thighs together to maintain some level of modesty.

That makes him smirk, a light laugh exhaling from his lips, “Don’t be shy, be a good girl and spread your legs for me, then put your hands behind your back.”

You whimper, your limbs shaking a little when you sit up on your knees and spread your legs, revealing your glistening pussy while you cross your arms behind your back. There’s no going back now, no where to hide yourself as you kneel completely bare before him.

Mihawk licks his lips in response, giving you a once over, looking like a hawk about to devour his prey, but only after playing with it just a little.

“You like this, don’t you, Y/N?” He asks with a devious smile while he eye-fucks you, paying special attention to your chest and cunt, reveling in how delirious with arousal you’ve become.

You bite your lip, your body trembling as heat licks up your insides. In response to his question you nod, no use lying about it now that the want is fully on display, leaking out of you.

He grins and gets up from his chair, circling around you once more before he leans down on one knee to get eye-level with you, gently grazing his hand along your collarbone, before tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“If I feel between your legs, how wet are you going to be for me? Or should we just wait to see if you make a mess of my carpet?”

You bite back a moan, your nails digging into your forearms behind your back, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, your clit throbbing at his words. The fear of him being right shoots heat right through your veins, and at this rate you would start dripping. The thought visibly flushes your face and the tips of your ears a dark crimson color.

His hand is now on your thigh, creeping further and further towards your slick center, his lips ghosting along the underside of your jaw as he does so, making you shiver with need, “Would you like me to check?”

You let out a shaky breath when he pulls back to look into your eyes, pondering and searching for any hesitation while his fingers continue their journey, “Tell me no…” He says, just like he said in the dark hallway the night before, “Tell me no, and I’ll stop.”

His face is even closer to yours now, the ghost of a kiss just an inch from your lips. You shake your head, pressing your forehead to his, pleading, “Please… Please don’t stop.”

He caresses one of your breasts, thumb stroking over a hardened nipple, causing you to pant, your breath tickling over his face, his other hand gripping your hip, “Tell me, little rabbit… why have you continued to humiliate yourself for me this entire week? Why have you let me treat you this way in front of the others, and in private?”

“I-I…” You try to find the words, your mind numb with pleasure, your nerves alight as his touch electrifies you, and then the realization even surprises you, “I like it. I like the way it makes me feel. You’re my teacher, my master, my Sir… I like it when you control me.”

His smile is wicked, pleased with your answer, and that’s when he finally touches you, just barely, and your pussy is dripping slick. You whine as ecstasy rolls through your body, his fingertip exploring your drenched folds.

“What a naughty rabbit you are… I knew what a good, little pet you would be the first time I ever saw you,” He purrs in your ear, spreading your wetness around your stiff clit, “Perhaps I should have the other students come in, since you like this so much. Have them watch and learn what it’s like to be truly obedient.”

Your eyes widen in horror, your body uncontrollably trembling in his hands, but still you hold your position, “N-no, Sir, p-please don’t!”

It’s then that he kisses you, never once stopping his exploration; the movements on your clit increasing while he ravages your lips, his slick tongue invading your mouth to slide over your own wet muscle. You keen into his mouth, opening even wider as you drink each other in with wild abandon.

He finally breaks away, chuckling lowly, “Just teasing you, pet, I wouldn’t dream of it. From here on out you are mine. All mine. Is that understood?”

You nod, dazed as you press your face into the side of his neck, “Yes, Sir… that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Your fate is sealed with another kiss when his fingers finally enter you, curling up to fuck into that sensitive spot inside that makes you see stars. You cry out into his mouth as he alternates between scissoring his thick fingers into your cunt, and rubbing them over your clit, rocketing you hard and fast towards your orgasm.

“I’m sure those poor knees of yours are getting awfully sore, darling. I’ll reward you and make all of the aches and pains go away if you can cum just like this.” He says, lips brushing over your ear, his goatee tickling your jaw.

You moan, your head thrown back while he begins to nip and suck at your neck, leaving marks of pleasurable pain in his wake as he keeps continuous pressure on your clit, rubbing small circles into the wet bundle of nerves. Heat and pressure is slowly building in your tummy, a tight knot threatening to snap as pure rapture bleeds through your body, pumping hot in your veins.

“Mihawk, Sir… plleeeeaase.”

“Mmm, such a good girl. So soft, and pliant and wet.”

His praise fuels the fire in your belly, your thighs shaking with desperation as his fingers never cease their relentless pace; a little puddle of your arousal coats his hand and dampens the carpet below. The pressure continues to build, your skin flushed pink, your warm, drenched cunt clenching around nothing when his fingers overstimulate your clit.

“You’ve been such a good girl, my little rabbit. You deserve to feel good after all I’ve put you through. Now cum for me.”

You pant into his neck, chest heaving as you whimper, your eyes squeezed shut as the pressure inside you overflows, tension snapping. You twitch in his embrace while your orgasm overwhelms you, feeling yourself flutter and gush on his hand, your entire body pulsing in time with your rapidly beating heart.

“Messy little thing,” he teases, extending the fingers he used to pleasure you to your lips, “Looks like I was right about you making a mess. But don’t worry about that now, be a good girl and clean me up.”

You suck on his slick digits obediently, trembling from your orgasm while pressed flush against him. He pulls apart your arms that have been folded behind your back, nudging them to wrap around his neck. After cleaning your wetness from his fingers he cradles your face, pressing tender kisses to your mouth and cheeks.

“So perfect, you did so good for me, Y/N,” he coos while he gathers you up in his arms, getting you off the position on your knees to his lap, “Always so perfectly obedient, doing exactly what I say.”

His praise puts you on cloud nine, adoration and devotion radiating through you; still aglow from your orgasm as you snuggle to his chest. He picks you up and swiftly begins to make his way over to his bed, reigniting your excitement and arousal for the reward he promised you.

“And good girls who listen…” He says, before throwing you onto the bed on your back, and immediately gripping your thighs to pull them a part, “…get rewarded for their impeccable behavior.”

He towers over you on the edge of the bed, almost folding you in half, your ankles close to your ears. His hands have you spread open wide, leaking cunt on full display, thumb toying with the hood of your clit before he licks up your slit.

You gasp out a whine, your hands flying to tangle in his hair. His eyes are fixed on yours, half-lidded, pupils still blown with insatiable desire while he eats you out, alternating between lapping at your clit and tonguing your drenched opening.

Your second orgasm hits you by surprise, his expert ministrations flooding you with euphoria as you bite your lip to keep from screaming; your nails digging firm against his scalp while you rut against his face.

“Mm, exquisite,” he hums once you’ve gone slack again, twitching in the afterglow while he crawls up your body, “I think your delicious cunt was made for my tongue.”

His black facial hair glistens in the firelight on his jaw when he licks his lips, leaning over you till you are face to face once more, breath mingling, “I’m sure it was made for my cock as well.”

“Sir please!” You sob, keeping yourself wide open for him, “Please, I need it so bad! Please fuck me…”

He grins down at you, face darkened by the flickering shadows of the room, caressing your cheek, and wiping away a stray tear that falls from the corner of your eye. Then he kisses you, all tongue and teeth, wet with your spit and slick on his lips.

Once he pulls away he sits back up, thumb hooked into the waistband of his pants, the outline of his cock bulging against his leg. You whine once more, squirming with need, and when he takes off all of his clothes it makes you throb. He’s the biggest you’ve ever seen: long, thick, and heavy, red at the tip and leaking precum.

“I know, little rabbit, I know,” He says lowly, stroking himself while he positions between your legs, “I’ll give it to you. Are you going to be a good girl and take it all?”

Your eyes are wide, your body shaking. It’s been a long time since you’ve had anyone inside you, and never someone his size before, but you nod, “Yes, Sir, I-I can take it...”

“Good girl.”

And then he’s pushing into you, stuffing the tip of his dick into your dripping cunt, and even with the amount of lubrication your body has created for you, the feeling of being split open sucks the air right out of your lungs. He grabs your legs and hoists your ankles over his shoulders, driving his hips down with a quick thrust to fully sheath himself inside of you. The motion makes you cry out and claw at the bedding, your body completely encased by his as he folds you, then begins an utterly ruthless pace.

Never have you been so full before, stretched to capacity while he fucks into you, staring down at you with fierce concentration, as if he were dueling you in a swordfight. He watches you fall apart entirely, tears streaming down your face while you cry and whimper his name, and every other little sound of pleasure and pain in between.

His cock touches every inch inside of you, pounding your G-spot with a fierceness that makes you feel like you are going to black out. Every cell in your body seems to scream and sing in unison when he finally reaches down and flicks at your clit, sending you into an immersion of pain and ecstasy that you didn’t know could possibly exist as you cum hard around his cock.

The two of you pant in unison, him stilling inside of you to give you a moment to come back to reality once more. Your body is thrumming with overstimulation, blood rushing wildly through your veins as his face swims in your vision. He’s biting his lip, concentrating on not cumming inside of you as he begins to pull out of your slick heat.

“Such a good girl for me, taking my cock so well,” His praise washes over you again, easing the ache of his dick withdrawing from you, “But I’m not through with you yet, little rabbit.”

Suddenly your legs are removed from their perch on his shoulders, and you cry out when you are flipped over onto your stomach. He manhandles you onto your hands and knees, soothing his hand along your spine so you arch your back.

“I think I’ve been more than generous with my reward, don’t you?”

He grabs you by the hair, forcing your head back so he can look into your eyes, making your back arch even more. You whimper at the rough treatment, exhausted from the amount of pleasure ripped from your body, but obediently you look into his glowing eyes and nod.

“Y-yes Sir, thank you, thank you so much.”

He grins his devious smile once more, kissing you hard on the mouth before releasing your hair and withdrawing behind you, “I think that means I deserve my own reward then.”

Without warning he slaps you on the ass, making you gasp in surprise and shrink a little onto the bed.

“Tsk, tsk,” he vocalizes with a suck to his teeth, gripping your hip so you return back to your position, “None of that, you want to make your Sir feel good, don’t you?”

“Yes, I’m sorry!” You cry, burying your face into the sheets, “I’ll be good.”

He caresses your hips and massages the small of your back, before you feel him spread the cheeks of your ass and rub his cock over your puckered hole. The sensation makes you stiffen, but you resist the urge to shy away.

“Such a gorgeous ass, I’m sure it would feel like heaven to have it sucking around my cock.”

The thought simultaneously turns you on and makes you want to cry. Taking someone back there was something you had never done before, and thinking about him impaling you on his huge cock tonight after already being so tired and used, terrified you.

He continues to rub his dick through the cleft of your ass, as if waiting for you to respond. Not wanting to disappoint your Sir, you gather your courage, and turn around a bit shyly to look at him, tears glistening in your eyes.

“You can do whatever you want to me, Sir… I just want to make you feel good. You can…y-you can fuck my ass, if that’s what you want.”

Mihawk’s jaw tightens and he groans, his eyes seeming to flash before he licks his lips, “You truly are the sweetest pet a man could ask for. While that offer is tempting, rabbit, I will not do it tonight. I do not wish to hurt you, that is going to require some training, and believe me I will be training you. But for now…”

He maneuvers himself swiftly, dragging his tip through your pussy folds, coating his cock in your slick before thrusting into you once more, bottoming out. You moan into the bedsheets, spreading your legs further as he begins to fuck you from behind, his hips snapping fast and hard, loud sounds of skin slapping each other filling the room and ringing in your ears.

“From now on you’re mine,” he pants, his fingertips bruising into your hips and thighs, “If anyone else touches you again, I’ll fucking kill them.”

You whine in agreement, unable to use your words while your body is pounded into the bed, rattling the entire structure, slick dripping down your thighs as his balls slap against your clit.

“My perfect little student, so good for me,” He growls, grabbing your hair again and slapping your ass, his hips beginning to stutter, his speech becoming more frenzied, “Say you’re mine, say who punishes, fucks, and lets you cum.”

“I’m all yours! I belong to you!” You cry out, your neck straining back, eyes fluttering as he continuously fills you from head to base, “Mihawk, Mihawk!”

“Little rabbit, all mine. Mine to use, pleasure, and humiliate. Because. She. Likes. It.” He enunciates the words with four sharp, drawn out thrusts of his cock, “And if you don’t cum on my cock right now, you won’t for another week. That’s a promise.”

He reaches down and slaps your clit, once, twice, then three times, each one harder than the last while he pumps into you. Your eyes roll back into your head, your body buzzing as it takes control for you and obeys him, your pussy pulsing and gushing around his cock while you cum for the last time.

The feeling of your pussy clenching and releasing does him in; with a bite to your shoulder and a deep moan he empties himself inside of you, splashing his hot cum inside your velvety womb.

Bliss overtakes you when you collapse onto the plush bed, cheek pressed firm into the silk sheets while Mihawk pants against your neck, riding the aftermath waves of his orgasm.

After a few moments of composing himself, he comes back to reality; with gentle words and soft kisses he unsheathes himself from your body, and wraps you in his arms.

“Y/N, dear Y/N, are you alright?” He asks softly, brows furrowed with concern.

You’re an absolute wreck: cheeks flushed, skin damp with sweat, eyes shut. But your heart-rate has begun to return to normal, your breathing evening out while you press your face to his chest.

“Yes, Sir, yes… so good, so very good…” You smile, happy, giddy, and exhausted all at once. Sticky between the thighs, but relaxed and satisfied.

He kisses you on the forehead, smoothing back your wild sex hair for you, tucking the stray hairs out of your face.

“It seems like we have a lot to talk about, Y/N… I meant when I said that I intend for you to be mine.”

The confession makes your heart flutter, warmth and adoration surging through your veins as you turn over to face him, “I would very much like to talk about that, Sir…”

Another one of his devious smirks lights up his eyes, his hands groping over your thigh and ass, “Good, we’ll have all week to discuss the details, all by ourselves, my little rabbit.”

You give him a puzzled look, “What do you mean all week, Sir?”

He looks so smug, so pleased with himself while he stares you in the eyes and gazes over your face; his thumb tracing over your bottom lip, causing your mouth to slightly part.

“Did you tell anyone that I have not left the castle?”

“No, of course not,” You answer earnestly, wanting him to know you would never disobey his orders.

“By chance did you tell anyone where you were going?”

“N-no…”

The realization hits and you feel embers of arousal ignite in your core, your mind reeling with the promise of untold pleasures.

“Then for 6 more days, pet, you’re all mine. All mine, to play with, and more.”

Main Masterlist

[lordsukunas]

tldr: suguru as a child/early teenager and his journey as a sorcerer after he meets you, his new neighbor.

cw: mentions of vomiting, not in-depth. not edited, not beta-read, rushed, and possibly ooc suguru. gender neutral and sorcerer!reader.

a/n: sigh... i’m so tired. probably when i wake up i’ll actually edit it, but i just needed to get something out, so maybe consider this a lil teaser...? i might make a second part expanding on how he ends up going to jjt n then whenever he defects, but im absolutely exhausted rn. exams have been kicking my ass </3 + im going to a festival so this might not be edited for a lil while longer. sorry yall!

a part of me thinks suguru would live in some small, unknown little town. the people are closed-minded, content with the life they’ve built for themselves, and they don’t want it to change. if you’re born there, it’s hard to get out, especially with such few opportunities. it’s a town meant to keep aspiring little doves caged within its walls.

so imagine some six, maybe seven year-old boy going around saying he sees monsters sometimes. of course, the first conclusion any adult would reach is that the poor thing is having nightmares. he’ll grow out of it — all of them do.

but suguru doesn’t.

he’s afraid to sleep at night, and despite his parents’ pleas for him to sleep in their bed, he says that he can’t. “what if you get hurt too?”

they end up having to sneak melatonin in his dinner to get him to sleep at night.

when he turns eleven, he gets a grasp on his technique. he has to eat the monsters, consume them so that they don’t go out and hurt anyone else. that’s easy enough, right?

for the first few weeks, he vomits. they taste disgusting, like dried, crusty rags used to clean up puke and shit. but he has to do it, he has to! otherwise, who’s going to keep his innocent parents safe?

so he keeps going. exorcise, consume, puke. exorcise, consume, puke. exorcise, consume, puke.

exorcise and consume.

then, at age twelve, you come along.

you’re like the sun peeking through the dark clouds after days full of rain and thunder. a breath of fresh air, a sugary treat to balance out the saltiness of this shitty town.

you move into the once abandoned house right beside his, a radiant smile on your face and eyes twinkling with determination.

beautiful, perfect, normal.

the two of you click almost instantly, although suguru’s a little reluctant at first — what if you think he’s weird? his parents and teachers say he’s a bit troubled, nosy neighbors joke that he’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic, and bored grandmas claim he’s been touched by the devil. despite their rumors, despite suguru’s reputation, despite the fact you two are polar opposites, you don’t avoid him. in fact, it’s like those things just entice you even more.

“suguru.”

the fear in your voice catches him off-guard, and he stops walking. your hand grips the hem of his jacket, and your finger slowly raises to point towards the corner.

“what is that?”

it’s a crude thing. skin a dingy shade of purple, stubby limbs twisted and contorted into impossible angles, and jagged yellow teeth that poke past its thin, cracked lips.

that’s when he realizes it: you can see them too.

he’s not alone. finally, fucking finally, suguru geto is not alone.

by thirteen, you and suguru are attached at the hip. there’s not a day where the two of you don’t see each other, even when you get grounded for accidentally breaking a bathroom stall trying to exorcise a curse.

they’re so ungrateful.

he’s tainted your image. you were once normal, the cute neighbor nextdoor, but now you’re best friends with suguru, the pretty boy with the strange bangs and broken mind.

you don’t care though, and he loves that you never have.

nothing can separate you. you go to school together, take the same classes (thanks to suguru modifying his schedule), walk home together, exorcise curses together.

you’re all he needs, and he’s all you need. you’re the only ones who understand each other on a fundamental level, who know each other inside and out, down to the very last atom in your bodies.

with you, he’s sure that he can snap the chain and leave this place, to soar so high in the sky that there’s nothing and no one left but you and him.

you hand suguru his slushie, and he takes a long sip, letting the sugar-filled drink wash away the lingering taste of today’s curse.

“sometimes, i think we’re kinda like batman and superman.”

suguru can’t help but scoff. “us? you think we’re superheroes?” how unsurprisingly childish of you.

you nod, snapping your kit-kat bar in half and taking a bite out of it. “yeah, dude! we fight alien bad guys with our superpowers. pretty cool, right?”

he leans back, legs spread and an arm resting on the back of the bench. “sure, but they always get rewarded for saving the day. what do we get?” he doesn’t wait for your answer. “nothing.”

a small frown flits across your typically cheerful features, and suguru wishes he could shove his words back into his mouth and down his throat.

“mm... i think we get stuff. we get to see our parents safe, and even if no one else here really likes us, they’re safe thanks to us, too.” the toe of your shoe traces shapes into the pavement. “we’re the only ones that can do this, suguru. it’s our duty.”

right. duty.

suguru hums, but you can’t tell whether it’s in agreement or not. you decide that it doesn’t matter, that he’s just thinking like always.

“wish i was rich, though," you joke and pop the rest of your little kit-kat stick into your mouth.

after a moment, he shakes his head and takes a sip of his bright purple drink. “me too.”

[writeawaythepain]

Oblivious

Tango Tek x (gn!reader)

Anybody else really miss watching Tango’s videos when he left? 

Word count: 2.4 k

Prompts:

“I would be nervous too in your shoes. But you’d be telling me that I got this, so I’m telling you: You got this.”

Doing each other's hair.

Summary:

You convince Tango to finally take a break from his new big redstone project by inviting him over for a sleepover. You start to wonder if it was even a good idea, as your normal teasing back-and-forth banter starts to hit a little too close to home when you realize your crush for the redstoner was just getting worse…

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“I would be nervous too, in your shoes,” I try to reassure him with a smile. “ But you’d be telling me that I got this, so I’m telling you: You got this.” You look directly into his fiery red eyes.

“….Aaaa- you’re just making me more stressed!!” Tango yells out dipping the nail polish brush back into the bottle. “Why am I even so stressed?!” 

“Cause I made your nails fabulous, and if you mess mine up I’ll never forgive you.” You answer simply, trying and failing to suppress a smile.

“You did do my nails fabulously, you did…but I think I’m actually going to go for a more abstract look-'' He flashes you a mischievous smile as he slowly lowers the brush closer to your finger, and nowhere near where your actual nail was. You instantly pull away, gasping in mock offense.

“Don’t you dare-“ You start.

“Wha -at, do you not trust me?!” He says snickering. You eye him suspiciously.

”Not when you say things like that!”

Your plan for making sure Tango took a break from his new big project was going well so far. Sure you felt a little childish when bringing up the idea of a sleepover, but Tango’s enthusiasm dashed most of your concerns instantly…Most, that is, except for your growing concern that you may love your friend in more ways than just platonic….

You usually always push those feelings to the back burner, not wanting to ruin the thing you two already had going, but seeing the way he stuck out his tongue in concentration while still managing to get polish all over your finger wasn’t helping. ”How are you so bad at this?“ You tease, smiling.

”I- you shush! I’m trying, ok! You keep squirming-“ He says trying to readjust his positioning by grabbing and tilting your hand slightly.

”I’m not squirming! I’m laughing. At you.” You say still giggling. He huffs, and eventually decides that his technique wasn’t working, and decides to try a new one. He gets up from his cross-legged position on the floor, pulling his knees up and toward himself to form a resting place for your wrist. His grip on your hand tightens a little as he yanks you closer.

”Just shut up and come here-” The rest of your body follows your hand, and you scooch closer to him, shutting up. Tango doesn’t even seem to notice your close proximity, too focused on trying to paint your nails neatly. After a few more beats of flustered (on your part) silence, he looks up beaming. “There, first hand done!” 

You blink, your brain still catching up, before you inspect his work. The first finger he did was quite bad- unevenly painted and there was some color accidentally splotched onto your skin. But each nail got progressively better, and all in all… “Well- I’ve had worse. And I like the color!” He’d picked a bright red for you, a shade that reminded you of his bright eyes. You picked your favorite color for his nails, and you now wonder if he did the same.

”Ok- ok! See- I’m learning!” He says before holding out his hand again, “other one?”

You give him your other hand, and are forced to look at his adorably concentrated face again as he paints your other nails. You start talking to distract yourself. “So I assume this is your first time ever doing this?”

”Zed’s painted my nails before- but it was with some kinda poison for one of his science-y experiment-o thingies.” If he had been talking about anyone else you might’ve questioned it, but it was Zedaph, so you weren’t really even surprised. “I’ve never painted someone else’s before- no.” He responds not looking up, still entirely focused.

”Really, I couldn’t tell?” You say sarcasm dripping from your voice as you smile. He looks up at you for a second just to roll his eyes.

“I thought I told you to shush-“ He says, almost scolding if it wasn’t for the smile on his face. He rolls his shoulders, and it seems like being hunched over in concentration was starting to make him sore, so he instead leans back a little, pulling you even closer, and holds your forearm between his knees. Ok- this was getting ridiculous, there was no way your face wasn’t getting a bit red now. 

“Do you want me to just detach my hand and give it to you?” You laugh trying to keep your composure.

”No- “ He laughs, seemingly oblivious to your suffering. “-I like you just as you are, all in one piece thanks.” You chuckle, looking anywhere but directly at him until he finally finishes, and releases your hand. ”Done! Now don’t you look absolutely fanta-bulous! The color really suits you-“ He cheers, sending you a wink that makes you wonder if he was doing this on purpose.

The second hand looks even better than the first, and if you were being honest, it really warmed your heart that he tried so hard. “It does look great, the red makes me feel like a model.” You pose in a silly vogue showing off your nails as if in a commercial, and it succeeds in making Tango laugh. He tries a pose of his own, showing off his nails in front of his face and pursing his lips. He looks at you, and winks. You burst out laughing, and he joins in as you both have goofy smiles on your face. When your laughing finally calms down, Tango looks up at you.

”So, what else do you usually do at sleepovers?” He asks, tilting his head slightly.

”Well…me and my friends would sometimes play truth or dare, or do each other's hair-“ Tango’s eyes light up.

“Why not both! Though, I don’t think there’s much you can do with this mop on my head-“ He responds pointing at his spikey blonde hair, “I kinda just have to let it do what it wants.”

You squint at it, sizing up his hairdo like it was a challenge. “I think I can figure something out…”

”Go ahead! Be my guest.” He says sitting up and taking off the goggles he had on. 

You get up to grab some supplies from the bathroom, before returning and kneeling down behind him, trying to find a longer chunk of hair that you can work with. Satisfied with finding a section near his pointy ears, you start braiding. “Right, you go first. Truth or dare?”

”Well, I can’t really move- so truth? I did not think this through, huh?” He chuckles, and you pull on his hair slightly to keep him still.

”Stop moving!” You say, laughing as well. You think for a second, trying to come up with a good question. “Ok…When you first met me, what was your first impression of me?”

Tango smiles, and flushes slightly as he thinks back on the moment, remembering it fondly. You're too focused to notice. “Well- If I’m being a hundred percent honest. I just thought you looked really cool! But in kinda a like- a slightly intimidating way, you know?” You spare him an odd look.

”Really?” You ask, finishing up the first little braid before gently tilting his head the other way to do the same thing on the other side.

”Yea! Then, I got to know you and realized you're just a big ole softy!” He says chuckling. You roll your eyes and shake your head, but you don’t stop the small smile that spreads across your face.

”Yea, yea, whatever.” You chuckle, focusing back on his hair.

”Your turn now, truth or dare?” Tango asks.

“Truth, I’m still trying to finish this braid-“ He takes a moment to respond, giving you just enough time to finish the second braid, so you tie it to the end of the first one, forming a sort of halo around the back of his head.

”What’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?” He asks. One instantly pops to mind, but you shake your head, dismissing it instantly.

”Actually, nevermind, I'm finished. I switch to my choice to dare.” Tango turns around to face you, almost pouting.

”Wha- You can’t do that!”

”Yes I can, and look!” You pull out a hand mirror you brought and show him what you’ve done to his hair, his frown instantly turns into an excited smile.

”Woah- it’s so cute!” He says, turning his head a little to inspect the braids, grinning. 

”You are! And your hair looks nice too.” You say shooting him wink, he laughs but you swear you saw his face get a little pink. He looks off to the side like he’s thinking, and then turns back to you with a toothy smirk.

”Alright, I thought of a dare. Give me your absolutely worst pick up line. Just- the most cheesy, corny, awful pick up line ever.” Your eyebrow raises a little at his request, and you take a moment to think.

”Worst pick up line huh…? That’s hard cause we both know how amazing I am at flirting.” You say sarcastically, just buying yourself some time to think of something clever.

Tango laughs, “Yep, uh huh. Totally. You're like, the flirting master.” He teases back.

Finally a really stupid one comes to mind, “Tango, are you a campfire? Because you’re hot and I totally want s’more-“ You say, barely able to get it out without laughing.

Tango stares at you blankly for a moment, before his face reddens and he bursts out laughing. “That- that’s actually terrible.”

“Hey you asked! I’m starting to think you just like the idea of me flirting with you.” You joke, turning your back to him so he could do your hair. Instead, he decides to lean forward and whisper directly into your ear.

“Maybe I do~” He pulls back and starts laughing, but you're frozen. Your face feels flushed and you try to calm your racing heart. You keep reminding yourself that it was all just a joke, that you needed to calm down or you’d risk making it weird. “Aw, too much?” He asks.

“I- just-” You stutter.

“Well too bad, it’s my payback for you not letting me work on my redstone stuff.” He says gently running his hands through your hair and…you were just now realizing how bad of an idea this all was. You were supposed to be getting over your feelings for the hot tempered blaze, but instead you’ve found yourself falling for him even more.

“Yea well, that’s what I get for being a good friend I guess.” You chuckle, but it comes out a bit strained. 

“Friends? Is that all we are?” Tango asks slightly…disappointed?

“Alright Tango enough with the jokes, you keep doing that I might actually fall for you.” You try to keep up your chipper and teasing tone, but your voice wavered towards the end.

Tango stops playing with your hair, and moves in front of you again. He seems nervous, and looks down at his hands a lot. You don’t dare hope, you don’t let yourself think anything, too scared to lose the friendship that you two had, no matter how much you cared for him.

“Maybe…uhh…maybe I might’ve actually been the one, that has done the falling…for…you.” He ends it with a dry chuckle, wringing his hands and struggling to keep eye contact. When you don’t respond right away, he finally looks at you. You search his eyes, searching for any sign that this was all some sort of weird bit.

“Are- are you being for real…or…” You finally ask, still not sure.

“Uh…yea? I mean…I thought I was making it obvious and all but I guess...” For some reason you feel tears well up in your eyes. “...Ah! Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” You interrupt him, quickly wiping the tears from your eyes.

“No! No it’s fine I’m just- I’m glad! I promise!” You reassure him, a huge smile spreading across your lips. His eyes are still wide with concern, and slight confusion.

“Wait so- I’m confused. Do you also…?” You bob your head up and down, laughing a bit as you try to regain your composure after the roller coaster of emotions that had been the past few minutes.

“Yes, Tango. Obviously, I’ve fallen for you too.” You finally respond, he grins and grabs both your hands in his.

“Well, obviously- neither of us are really good at reading the obvious-” He snickers, gently stroking your hand with his thumb. 

You giggle, “Wow, and now someone has spilled about their crush, we’ve checked, like, all the sleepover boxes but-”

“-but sleeping?” Tango asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“No? No one sleeps at sleepovers, come on dude-” You respond and he laughs, “the only thing we haven’t done is watch a movie!”

“Hey well I’m not complaining. As long as I get to do your hair first, since it was um- interrupted.” He smiles, blushing slightly.

“Why not both!” You say mirroring his tone from earlier.

~ ~ ~

This time when he runs his fingers through your hair, you allow yourself to melt into his touch. You're seated on the ground, while Tango sits on the couch. You're situated between both his legs, as he tries, undos, and retries to braid your hair. You realize you don’t really mind if he ever gets it right, you're just glad to finally relax with the knowledge that he loved being near you just as much as you loved being near him.

”Ok…I’m done…I think?” You hear Tango’s voice from behind you. You haven’t really been paying attention to the movie much, instead just enjoying the redstoner's company, so you lean over and grab the hand mirror.

”Aww, I love it.” You giggle a little,  “But…maybe don’t quit your day job, hot stuff.” You tilt your head up to see his reaction, and he just rolls his eyes and snickers before leaning down and closer to your face.

”Is it good enough to get a little somethin’ at least? For trying?” He smirks, leaning just a little closer. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you smile and sit up, turning slightly, before gently grabbing his collar, and meeting him in the middle. And you swear, when his lips hit yours, you feel fireworks.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

[the-and-sign-anon]

The Third Independent: 2

Word Count: 2,618

Series Masterlist

Five Years Post-Fall

Two years passed in a flash. You grew quite attached to Luida, shadowing her most days in your first year, to the confusion of many of the citizens of Ship Three. More often than not, you would visit the Plants after sunset, then drift off to sleep on the floor with Vash on your bed. You never thought to mention how he’d often flop over in the night, one hand falling to dangle off the bed and rest on your nest. 

Brad would teach you what he knew about mechanics, which took weeks of convincing from Luida and Vash. You picked it up fairly quickly though, and it didn’t take long before he was happy to teach you new techniques and even let you handle a few projects yourself. 

You found yourself happy to live on Ship Three. It got a bit lonely when Vash would go on trips with Brad, but you would take those opportunities to visit the Worms again. You’d run off towards the sands, barefoot and grinning like mad, before disappearing into the dunes and lifting up in a cloud of Worms. Luida would occasionally spare a moment to check on you, feeling her heart nearly bursting with joy at seeing you so happy. 

When she gifted Vash his red coat, she visited your room next to give you a gift of your own. It was a lovely coat as well, an almost mesmerizing shade of green that reminded you of your beloved Worm companions. You couldn’t begin to guess where she could have gotten something like this, but you gripped it tight and thanked her profusely regardless before sitting in your room to admire it for an hour.

You were just heading for Vash’s room to show him your coat when he burst out and ran past you. 

“Vash?”

“I have to go. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“You don’t intend to come back… do you?”

He spared you a deeply pained look that rooted you to the spot. You were as spirited as they came and no one could ever seem to keep you still for long. Vash was the exception.

“I’m leaving a note. It’ll explain things.”

“What am I supposed to do…?”

He lunged forward to give you a crushing hug. 

“You’ll be fine. Look after them for me?”

You nodded into his shoulder and watched him go, your new coat dangling from your hand. What could have gone so wrong?

You couldn’t just stand there, so you deferred to what you always did. You ran through the halls to the front doors and launched yourself into the sands. Your coat fell to the ground just past the doors as the Worms swept up around you and fluttered excitedly. They always seemed happy to see their old companion again. 

Luida felt a jolt of fear when she found Vash’s room empty, followed by yours. Brad tried to be the optimistic one for once, suggesting you might have gone for a walk together or visited the Plant room. That hope was quickly squashed by a more thorough check of the rooms, which turned up Vash’s letter. Brad promised to search the entirety of Home for you while Luida set off to bring Vash back. 

Luida stopped at the doors when she saw your coat, slowly picking it up and shaking off the sand. She looked around at the dunes, then darted towards a swarm of Worms. She knew this probably made her look crazy, and she felt a little crazy, but she had to try. 

“Worms! I need to find Y/N! Where did they go?!”

The Worms simply kept buzzing around. 

“Please! If you can understand me at all… I need to find them.”

A few more moments. Then one Worm broke off from the swarm and landed on her shoulder. 

“They’re with your kind, aren’t they?”

The Worm hovered in front of her, then flew towards another dune. She took off to follow it, scrambling through the loose sands until she heard your voice. Vash had mentioned a song you sang, but she’d never heard it herself. From what he could describe, it always seemed to come from within you. Brad just brushed it off as a Plant thing and figured the humans would never hear it. 

Now though…

Your voice was soft, barely rising over the winds. Luida had never heard a tune quite like it before. It felt like a privilege to hear it, as if humans weren’t worthy of such a deep, hallowed song. She took care in her approach, trudging through the sands and quietly making her presence known. 

Your song stopped when she sat down beside you. Your shoulders were shaking and more than a dozen little Worms were settled on your limbs as if to comfort you. 

“He… he left. He said we Independents need to stick together.”

Luida put a hand on your shoulder. 

“We’re going to get him back. Do you think you can help me find him? Then we’ll bring him home and figure this all out together.”

You nodded firmly, drying your tears and following Luida to the toma stable. You each saddled one and took off. Your pull to Vash led the way across the dunes. Worms seemed to follow as well, creating trails of light as you rode.

It was intimidating to find the city of JuLai. While you’d grown accustomed to the people of Home, this was humanity on a much larger scale. You wrapped yourself tight in your coat and kept your head low as you approached the Plant facility. There were screams. Like you’d never heard before. 

Or… perhaps you had.

“Luida…”

You stopped and clutched your head, the screams of dozens of Plants echoing in your mind.

Luida pulled to a stop beside you and leaned over to place her hands atop yours.

“Y/N, what’s happening?”

You whimpered and shut your eyes tight. 

“They’re dying… the Plants are dying…”

The moment it stopped, your head shot up and you glared straight ahead.

“They killed them.”

You pushed forward with Luida close behind. Your toma stuttered to a stop as you leapt off it and sprinted into the facility. Luida ran to join you as Vash came into view. 

“Vash!”

He whirled around to look at you and Luida. A boy nearly identical to him stood on the catwalk, along with a man you didn’t know. There were bodies strewn about and the walls had grown dark. The Plants had died here. 

“Luida?!”

You stepped closer as the man recognized your caretaker. Vash held a gun that the other boy was pushing into his hands. 

“Vash… what’s going on?”

“Who is this?”

The strange boy turned his glare on you, then his eyes softened. Your lines flashed for a second and his did the same. 

“A third Independent.”

You both drew back as you spoke in unison. You didn’t like this. This boy… the blood splattered across his skin and clothes…

“Vash, we need to go Home. I don’t like this place…”

“We’re here to get you back, Vash.”

Luida rested her hand on your shoulder again and the boy’s expression twisted into a disgusted glare. 

“Ah. A perfect opportunity.” Vash looked terrified as the boy came closer still. “Let her be the first casualty in our crusade, brother. Show me what you can do.”

Your eyes were fixed on Vash. Your inner song echoed in his head as he thought of all his brother had already done; what he had yet to do. All he wanted in that moment was to sink into your song and disappear.

“What’s wrong? Do it already, Vash.”

“Vash…”

You nudged Luida back, keeping her safely tucked behind you. Nai wouldn’t have recognized it, but a fire lit in your eyes as Vash stared in horror at the gun in his hands. 

Nai scoffed and grabbed the weapon. 

“All this time and you’re still useless without me.”

He raised the gun to aim it at Luida. Your family. Your home.

“Stop.”

It happened in the blink of an eye. With a horrifying symphony of cracking bones and popping joints, your figure grew. You stood in a new, monstrous form, nearly eight feet tall and covered in snowy white feathers. For the first time since she’d known you, Luida remembered how much further from human you were than Vash.

Your hands had extended, forming razor sharp claws that itched to tear into Vash’s brother. Your eyes were narrowed into a glare as you took a firm step forward. You wouldn’t let him hurt her. Not like he’d hurt those men behind him. 

“Incredible. Vash… you truly found another of our kin.”

“We are not like you. Step back.”

You dropped to stand on all fours, your feathers ruffling as two sets of wings tucked into your sides. 

“You’re exactly like me, Independent. We can cleanse this world together and free our fellow Plants from these disgusting humans. They can never hurt us again!”

You growled; a low, guttural sound that set off alarm bells in Luida’s head even knowing you were only protecting her. 

Nai’s hands grew into blades, prepared to fight even his own kind to get his brother on his side. Just before he could lunge at you, Vash tackled him from behind. The twins struggled on the catwalk, the gun sliding away, before Nai planted his foot on Vash’s chest and kicked him away. 

Vash hit the railing and slumped down. You wasted no time in leaping at Nai. He evaded you, but it wasn’t as easy as it usually was. He’d never had to fight another Independent before, let alone one in such a beastly state. You swiped at him left and right, your claws catching on his blades. 

“I won’t let you hurt them!”

“And I can’t let them hurt Plants! Look at what they’ve already done!”

You swung at him again and nearly caught him, but he dropped back and snatched up the gun again, pointing it straight at your head. 

With heaving breaths from your panic, you stopped. Brad had shown you before what a gun could do. 

“Nai… stop, please…”

Vash struggled to his feet. As terrifying as the Big Fall had been, his time as a prisoner on Ship Three, the bodies at the crash site; he’d never been more afraid than watching you stare down the barrel of a gun wielded by his brother. 

“Nai, please.”

He couldn’t describe the feeling that came over him. With a start, he looked down at his left arm. There was a swirling dark space forming. 

“-Is this me?!”

You dug your nails into the metal floor, trying to keep from being sucked in as the man with Nai grabbed hold of the railing to avoid the same fate. The bodies of the people Nai had killed were sucked off the floor and straight into the black hole as Vash’s eyes filled with fear.

“What is this?! A Gate?!”

You tried to call out to Vash, to calm him and help him stop whatever was happening, but Nai moved first. He let the vortex suck him in close to his brother before swinging with one blade and slicing his brother’s arm clean off. The black hole pulled the severed arm in on itself and disappeared, leaving the facility in eerie silence. You got back to your feet and moved toward Vash, quickly trying to pull him away and shield him from his brother. 

“Stay away from him!”

“He’s my brother, you can’t take him from me!!”

You growled again and wrapped your wings around the injured Plant. Luida came to his side and tried to stop the bleeding.

“I won’t let you hurt him any further. Stay away.”

Nai desperately moved his head to catch a glimpse of his brother between the feathers protecting him. Vash’s eyes were filled with pain and fear and tears. Nai pulled back and got to his feet as the man approached him. 

“Fine. I can be patient. In a century or so, I’ll have built a world of Plants. And when I do… then you’ll understand. Both of you.”

He swept out of the facility with the man following close behind as Luida ripped up Vash’s cloak and tied it around his injured arm. You felt your feathers shed, falling to the floor around you as you shrank back down to your natural height. 

None of you spoke more than necessary as you helped Vash out to the tomas. Luida settled on one and you held Vash in place on the other. Despite his grief, it occurred to him that you held him so much more easily than he’d ever held you. 

When your battered trio returned to Home, Brad was waiting for you. You cleaned up the tomas and settled them in their stables while the adults helped Vash to the medical bay. By the time you joined them, Vash was fast asleep. You slipped back to your room, grabbed the blankets and pillows available to you, and nested on the floor just beside his cot. 

In the morning, Luida pulled you aside to talk. 

“I know there’s a lot I don’t know about Plants, and especially Independents…”

You didn’t want to try to finish her sentence. You just kept your eyes down as you fiddled with the collar of your oversized coat. 

“Y/N, what was that? At that Plant facility… you changed. Can you… do that at any time?”

You shrugged. 

“I can’t remember… but I think I’ve done it before. Maybe. It didn’t feel like something new.”

“Did… did it hurt?”

You shook your head. 

“No, it felt… I don’t know. Like I was just acting without thinking. Like instinct I guess. I just didn’t want you or Vash to get hurt.” You sighed disappointedly and curled in on yourself. “Lot of good that did.”

Luida pulled you into her arms. Even after two years, you didn’t often touch anyone. Vash was the most common one, with occasional hugs and tugging each other by the hand to look at something. Luida had only hugged you once or twice before, otherwise limiting herself to short touches on your shoulder to avoid discomfort. 

This hug felt like home. Like safety and peace. 

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t.”

You buried your face in her shoulder and took deep breaths to stay focused. Vash would be okay. He was alive and back home. Luida was safe and unharmed. That was all you could hope for right now. 

You went to visit Vash together. He was healing quickly, as Independents tended to do. Brad reasoned he could get working on a prosthetic for him in a few weeks if he kept going at the same pace. That offered Vash some small comfort it seemed. 

For the following several months, you rarely left his side. Vash healed from his wounds. Brad (with some help from you) built him a prosthetic arm and helped him learn to use it. You took him out on small excursions to check on surrounding Plants and interact with the Worms. He never asked about the strange form you took that fateful day, but you knew he was curious. You knew Vash himself and even Nai had never taken a form like that. 

You wanted to offer him answers, and you would when you had some to give. But that would require understanding where you came from. What ship you’d been on, who must have raised you before the Fall. What exactly happened to them when everything came crashing down. 

That wasn’t a door you were ready to open just yet.

[skyward-floored]

“Hero, what ails you?” - Chapter 1

I wrote this fic after finishing twilight princess over a year ago, since I was full-on captivated by the Hero’s Shade and his whole deal. I’m so attached to the Hero of Time, and that hasn’t changed a bit over the years, and I love making him a dad hehe

Anyways this has been posted on ao3 but due to some recent events I don’t feel like explaining again, I’m crossposting it here. Please enjoy tp Link getting sick and the Hero’s Shade being a Dad while attempting to deny it the entire time <3

First (you’re here) | Chapter Two

————————————————————

The Hero’s Shade sat and waited patiently in wolf form for his young successor to arrive.

As he waited, a few flakes of shimmering snow wafted past his muzzle and he breathed out with a huff, watching them drift past. The snow wasn’t cold, nor was it really snow, but it was the closest thing the Shade could compare it to.

It was calming to watch, and kept him occupied while he waited.

He’d already initiated contact with the boy. He merely had to wake up and accept, but he seemed to be taking his time today. It had already been several minutes longer then it usually took him to arrive and he was starting to grow concerned.

But a few moments later, the boy appeared on the ground, lying prone as always. It always took him a moment to get accustomed to this realm, which was understandable. This was not a land for living flesh.

The boy took several moments longer then he typically did to stand, but once he did he met his gaze as usual, giving the wolf a determined look.

The Shade nodded then howled, changing seamlessly from a wolf into his more human form.

“We meet again,” he rumbled, not bothering to obscure the fond note he knew was there. The boy gave him a small smile and returned the greeting, though his face wasn’t as eager as it usually was when he arrived here to learn a new skill. The Shade frowned to himself, but perhaps the boy was merely feeling the stress of his journey more harshly now that the castle was blocked off.

“Before I teach you my next hidden skill, prove to me you still recall the technique of the last lesson,” he continued. “Show me the Helm Splitter!”

He drew his sword and allowed the boy to do the same, then advanced on him. The boy watched him carefully, studying his movement, then leveled his shield and thrust it forwards once the Shade was close enough. Then he bent his knees and jumped, trying to land a hit on his head.

Except he fumbled the blade and nearly tripped over his own two feet when he attempted the move.

The Shade stopped, disappointment flowing through him. He was certain the boy had mastered this skill, yet here he was acting as if he hadn’t even learned it in the first place.

“What ails you? Do you require a reminder of the technique?” he asked.

The boy stumbled a bit as he regained his balance, then jerked his head in an apologetic bow. “N-no, I remember how to do it, I apologize. I’ll try again.”

The Shade paused, hearing something in his voice. Was that a faint rasp?

He took a small step forward and studied his protégé’s face. Now that he was closer he wasn’t sure how he’d missed it. The boy was concerningly pale, though his cheeks were bright and rosy compared to the pallor of the rest of his skin. He seemed to be fighting to remain upright if the trembling of his limbs were any indication, and a thin sheen of sweat shone on his face despite the fact they’d barely even begun the session.

He obviously was not in fighting condition.

The boy raised his sword and started for the Shade again, but he held out a gloved hand to stop him.

“Hero... you are not well,” he said in a softer voice then he usually used on him.

The boy blinked a few times then shook his head, gripping his sword more tightly.

“No, I’m f-fine. It’s just a bit of a cold.”

The Shade narrowed his eye. “A “bit of a cold” would not leave you shaking like a newborn foal, young one.”

The hero gritted his teeth and managed to get the shaking in his legs under control. “I said I’m fine. Allow me to show you I’ve mastered the previous skill.”

The Shade sighed. The boy obviously would not be swayed, to his own detriment.

“Very well. Come at me.”

He raised his sword and slowly advanced on the boy again, and Link darted forward, shield raised and sword ready.

The Shade eyed him carefully, even more so than usual, watching how it seemed to take him more effort to raise his shield and the way he moved much more slowly. The boy, seemingly oblivious of his enhanced watchfulness, ran forwards and repeated the action of bashing his shield against the Shade, then tried to leap into the air.

This time instead of jumping up he lurched to the side, clutching his forehead and looking dizzy.

He started to fall over backwards, and would’ve hit the ground if the Shade hadn’t jumped forward and caught him. He lowered him gently to the floor and gave the boy a stern look, and Link seemed to shrink in his hold, eyes downcast.

“How long has your condition been like this?” he questioned, cutting to the chase.

Link didn’t meet his eye. “Only a day or so,” he whispered, rasp more noticeable now.

“Where were you last?”

“Snowpeak... the temperatures there were a lot, but I-I had to keep going... I need to keep going. If Zant isn’t stopped—”

“You are in no condition to do anything at the moment,” Shade said sternly. “If you faced the usurper as you are now, he would kill you without a second thought, no less any other enemies. You need to rest.”

He removed his glove and brushed a ghostly hand over Link’s forehead as he spoke. It was hot, much hotter than it should be, and the boy sneezed as he checked, trembling in his hold.

“Did you wear proper equipment at Snowpeak?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.

Link swallowed. “Spent most of the time as a wolf... b-but I didn’t have any thicker clothes as a human. I just... made d-do.”

The Shade sighed. This irresponsibility was what got people killed.

“It was foolish of you to believe your wolf form would fully protect you,” he said sternly, “but that is water under the bridge. You need to focus now on healing. Not more fighting.”

Link made to speak but broke into a coughing fit instead, great wheezing things that wracked his chest and made him curl in on himself.

The Shade watched him, feeling a thread of worry lace itself through him as he listened to his successor cough. It had been a long time since he himself had a body that could get sick, but he knew a sound like that was not healthy.

His successor was strong, so strong despite everything the goddesses kept throwing at him, and seeing him laid low by something so normally inconsequential as a sickness scared the Shade more then he’d care to admit.

“I’m going to send you out of my realm,” he said, coming to a decision. “This place is likely aggravating your condition.”

Link’s face fell. “But you didn’t teach me—”

“That can wait until you are healed,” he cut off, and Link lowered his head. “I will wait for you. Focus on healing.”

Then he closed his eye and pushed at the edges of his realm, magic lightly fizzing through him. The Shade huffed, and in an instant brought his successor back to the waking world, and in turn, changed back into a golden wolf.

He let the magic wash through him, then opened his eye, looking around for the boy. He spotted him a moment later, a few feet away. Link lay on the ground as usual, but he didn’t stir, not even when the Shade padded over and nuzzled him.

A bolt of fear shot through him. Was removing him from his realm really the correct choice of action? What if he had worsened his condition merely by pulling him between dimensions?

“Hero, wake up,” he said, a thin thread of panic in his voice.

Link finally let out a wheezy cough and blinked his eyes open, looking miserable as he stared at him. The Shade couldn’t help his sigh of relief. He was alright, for now at least.

“You need somewhere safe to rest,” he rumbled. “Where would be suitable?”

Link shivered again, and the Shade cursed the fact that he couldn’t hold him in this form.

“K-Kakariko...” the boy rasped, another painful-sounding cough escaping him. “East... there’s a man there...”

The Shade nodded, taking a steady breath.

He hadn’t planned on helping the boy further then getting him out of his realm, but it seemed he wouldn’t be going anywhere by himself. It looked like he was going to have to get him to Kakariko somehow.

How was he supposed to do that?

A shadow split from his successor’s own, and a small imp creature with fiery orange hair appeared. She didn’t seem to notice him, and opened her mouth to speak to Link, but cut herself off when she saw him lying on the ground.

“Oh you stupid wolf I told you to wait—!” the imp rushed to his side, prodding him with a sharp sort of worry, only pulling back when he gave her a weak smile.

“‘S fine Midna, I’m okay,” he murmured, but contradicted his statement moments later by breaking into another coughing fit.

Midna crossed her arms and poked him again, and the Shade could see the thinly disguised worry on her face. She obviously cared for him despite her demeanor.

“You are not okay, and you weren’t okay yesterday either when you insisted on galavanting off and learning a new skill while you could barely walk!” she yelled, and Link didn’t reply, merely sighing tiredly.

“Sorry...” he croaked, and the anger immediately deflated out of Midna, the imp hovering worriedly by his shoulder.

The Shade decided to intervene then, padding forward and breathing out heavily to make his presence known. Who he knew to be the twilit princess startled and whipped around, staring at him with a wide look in her visible eye.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed, carefully moving herself to stand between him and the boy. Then realization landed on her face. “...oh it’s you. Skeleton-wolf-teacher-guy right?”

The Shade huffed and would have rolled his eyes if he could. “Not exactly, but close enough. The hero is in need of healing.”

Midna snorted, though it was layered with worry. “I hadn’t noticed,” she snipped, placing a hand on Link’s cheek. He leaned into the touch and let out a small sigh, and her frown deepened. “Can you heal him?”

The Shade shook his head. “Healing magic is far out of my ability. And sickness is difficult, much trickier then a physical wound.”

The imp sighed. “Well then thanks for nothing, nice to see you, we really should be going now.”

She raised the cursed shard the Master Sword had purged from his successor, and began to direct the magic towards Link, shadows coalescing around him. But the Shade barked and pushed it back into where it came from, and Midna teetered in the air.

“What’s the big idea?!” she snapped, turning on him. “Link needs to get a move on and here you are stopping me from tele—”

“Do not teleport him,” the Shade interrupted, “or turn him to a beast. Moving him between my realm and this already caused his condition to worsen; I do not believe his body would be able to handle that much while he’s this ill.”

Midna lowered the shard, and real worry cracked through the uncaring face she’d put on.

“Then how will we move him?” she asked, floating around in a pacing motion. “There’s a man in Kakariko who could help him, but I can’t carry him there right now and his stupid horse is all the way across Hyrule, and if teleporting is bad then dragging him around on your back wouldn’t be good for him either, and they won’t let a stalfos wolf guy in anywhere!” she snapped, and the Shade patiently waited for her to finish.

“Calm yourself,” he said, despite probably being more worried then she was. “I have a solution.”

This would take a fair bit of magic, but in order for him to not terrify the locals and for Link to be comfortable, the Shade needed arms, and not skeletal or ghostly ones. It had been a while since he’d done this, as it was difficult to maintain these days, but this was a bit of a special circumstance.

Taking a deep breath, the Shade pulled on his magic, going seamlessly from a wolf to a skeleton. But once he’d finished he kept pushing, forcing his form to change further. Bones were covered by less-ghostly flesh, and he could feel bangs brush over his forehead, the sensation one he’d realized he’d missed. He suddenly felt heavier somehow, despite still being a spirit.

When he opened his eye the twilit princess was staring at him in astonishment, and he gave her a small smirk.

“Do I look alive enough?” he questioned, going to his knees and putting a hand on Link’s forehead. He seemed hotter, and the Shade wasn’t even sure he was awake anymore, though he did make a small noise as his hand landed on his skin.

Midna blinked then nodded, albeit hesitantly.

“You... yeah you do, you look alive. And like... you look like Link,” she said, continuing to stare. “Who are you?”

The Shade gathered his descendant into his arms, ignoring the question for the moment as he stood. Link’s head lolled against his shoulder, and he could hear his breath rasping more thickly in his chest. It sounded even worse then it had before, and an icy hand of fear clutched around his heart.

“Someone who cares for his wellbeing,” he answered simply, and began to walk, keeping a tight grip on his descendant.

Midna snapped out of her reverie and quickly moved in front of him, an arm held out. “You’re going the wrong way, moron.”

The Shade blinked, confused. He’d visited Kakariko many times and thought for sure he knew where to go.

Then again... it had been several hundred years.

“...perhaps you should lead.” he admitted, and Midna sniffed.

“Perhaps I should.”

And they set off without another word.

[aheckinmess]

Seeing Stripes (Dad Sukuna)

(Part 4 of Cursed, Not Cute.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Dad Sukuna, OC Child, Child Gojo Satoru, Lazy Day Stroll, Protective Sukuna, Soft Sukuna, Sukuna's Original Form, Gojo Satoru is a Little Shit, Sukuna Has a Daughter, She Stays Throwing Shade, Did We Expect Anything Less?, Also There's a Tiger Spirit, She's Just as Sassy

Word Count: 1,535 words

Summary: Besu's thoughtful stroll turns into the start of a new friendship. Only problem is she has no idea how her father will react since it's a boy.

Chapter 4: Seeing Stripes

“I think you’re crazy.” Besu huffed at her tiger companion, kicking the gravel beneath her feet. “Why try to make friends when they’re only going to try and take my power or gain influence with my father?”

“You don’t know everyone seeks to harm you.” Baekho chuffed and rubbed against her leg. “It is not good for you to be alone.”

“I have you.”

“I cannot be the only one you interact with, Little One.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“You’re eleven now.” Baekho licked Besu’s hand once. “You need others around you to support you. Your father and I can only provide so much. You need peers your own age you can learn to trust and socialize with.”

“I don’t need anyone else.”

. . . . .

As she’d gotten older, Sukuna trained Besu extensively in her use of cursed energy and techniques. She no longer feared walking through the streets of Shibuya. Those who initially viewed Besu’s life as free game soon learned the extent of Baekho’s wrath.

“Your father is worried about you, you know.”

That gave Besu pause, but only for a moment. Then, she shoved her hands in her pockets and redoubled her pace, storming down the streets. She shoulder-checked a fruit vendor and the cabbage man, sending glares at anyone who met her eyes.

“Cub, you know he cares about you. As hard as it is for him to show it, he wants you to be happy, even if he doesn’t fully understand why.” Baekho continues. “Your need for companionship is as evident as the stripes on my back.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know where I’d find that.” Besu sighed, kicking a pebble in her path. “Father only teaches me how to fight.”

“Perhaps he teaches you to fight because it is the only thing he knows.”

Besu opened her mouth to respond when a green-haired man flung himself in front of her.

“May your reign be short-lived, Princess–” His voice abruptly ended as Baekho caught him in her teeth and crushed his bones between her jaws.

She dropped his body in the street and kept walking with Besu, whose expression didn’t change.

“He homeschools me and teaches me everything at home. Am I just supposed to walk out in the streets and befriend the first person I see?” Besu gestured with her hand and it smacked straight into a boy with white hair. “I am so sorry.” She squeaked, covering her mouth with her hands. In an instant, Baekho’s spirit drew back into her body.

“Pfft. Was that supposed to hurt?” The young boy rolled his eyes behind a pair of stark, black sunglasses. Based on the cursed energy radiating from him, there was only one person he could be.

“Was that supposed to insult me?” Besu quipped back, quirking an eyebrow at him. One pair of hands stayed in her pockets, but the other pair rested on her hips in irritation.

“You’re the daughter of the Curse King.” The boy said, tilting his head as his posture reflected her own. “Besu, right?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “And you are?”

“The princess of the Curse King doesn’t know who I am?” He scoffed.

“I know who you are, but I’m giving you the option of introducing yourself before I confirm that you are, in fact, an asshole.” Besu shuffled her feet, reaching out to Baekho with her mind. Keep an eye on him. I sense no threat from him. He seems to be cautious, like you.

The boy’s lips twisted into a smirk at her attitude.

“I like your style, Princess of Curses. I’m Gojo. Satoru Gojo.” His smirk disappeared as soon as it surfaced. “Why are you out here? Fancy a destructive stroll through the streets?”

“I don’t harbor the same destructive tendencies of my father.” Besu started walking, letting him decide whether or not he wanted to follow. “Though you’d think otherwise based on the amount of people that have tried to kill me.”

When the world grew quiet again, Besu assumed Gojo left, leaving the residue of his massive cursed energy behind him.

“People are constantly trying to kill me too. I’m sure you know why.” His voice startled her back into reality and she spared him a glance.

Besu knew. Father had schooled her on a plethora of well-known sorcerer families and their techniques. With the vast variety of cursed techniques she would encounter, narrowing down the families with techniques passed down proved vital for survival. The less wild factors she had, the safer and stronger she’d be.

“I understand.” As she passed her favorite sweet shop, she nodded to him. “Do you like sweets? Do you wanna go get something to eat?” That’s a friendly gesture, right? A respectable invitation, Little One. I’m proud.

“Sure.” Gojo smiled.

. . . . .

Besu sat at a table eating ice cream while Gojo stuffed his face with warabi mochi; she racked her brain for topics of conversation, as well as possibilities to help protect her new friend from assassins like the ones she faced daily.

“Besu, yeah? What sort of cursed spirit latched onto you?” Gojo asked after his last bite of dessert. He folded his arms behind his head and reclined. “I saw a glimpse earlier.”

“She didn’t retreat, she just likes staying inside me to keep other spirits and people from clocking my cursed energy easily.” Besu growled defensively. No need to protect my honor, Cub, he’ll learn soon enough. “But she’s the White Tiger Guardian, Baekho.”

“Baekho, huh?” Gojo tried to appear disinterested, but his eyes shone behind his glasses the same way her father’s had when he’d first heard. “Not often a cursed spirit so powerful as Baekho bonds to anyone, not even a sorcerer.”

“Yeah…” Besu nodded absently, before her face lit up. “Hey! Maybe I can get Baekho to help protect you…from the people trying to kill you, too? Baekho, can you do that?”

A swirl of smoky blue swirled into the air as Baekho’s glowing blue figure materialized beside them.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. We are tethered, little love.” Baekho rubbed her head against Besu’s hand and turned to Gojo.

“Ha!” Gojo chuckled, wrinkling his lips into a shit-eating grin. “You think I’m so weak that I need her protection? What do you take me for, a whelp?”

Baekho bared her teeth, a warning for the young cub to stand down. “As it stands, your power is great. Few would ever surpass it. But should you ever find yourself in trouble, rally your cursed energy into a pool at the top of your head as a flare. Energy that’s stored away in the mind is the most difficult to ignore, and we will find you.”

Gojo pushed his glasses down far enough for Baekho to see the roll of his eyes. Then he stood and dusted off his shirt.

“You think I need a house cat to keep me safe?”

Besu blinked and Baekho had Gojo on the ground, her massive paw on his chest.

“Hold your tongue, Young Cub. I am tethered, not tamed.”

. . . . .

By the time Besu returned home, Sukuna waited for her in the den. On a throne of bones, he appeared sorely disinterested in the book he read, but Besu she’d been gone long enough for him to hide his worry behind the pages.

“Father, I have returned home.”

“Besu, I am glad you are back safely.” Sukuna bookmarked his page and turned his full attention to her. “You were gone longer than I expected.”

“Yes, sir. I did not mean to delay. I met a new companion.” She chose her words carefully. Anyone else and Sukuna might find them unworthy of her attention. But Satoru Gojo? Besu was sure Sukuna would find him worthy, but his disdain for the Gojo family was of no question.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir. We stopped by my favorite sweet shop for idle chatter. I hope that’s alright.”

“Depends on who you were with.”

“A boy my age by the name of Satoru Gojo.”

Sukuna’s red eyes suddenly locked with Besu’s and he bared a set of sharp teeth. At that moment, they seemed like fangs on a feral tiger, not unlike Baekho. She couldn’t tell if the murder in his eyes was because of Gojo’s namesake or the fact that he was, well, a boy.

“What did you talk about?”

Baekho, I’m scared. I am here.

“Well, we mostly just talked about how we’re both constantly trying to stay safe from assassins.” Besu explained, leaving out their discussion of Baekho. “I suggested the sweet shop. I wanted a companion.”

“A companion, I understand. But a boy?” Sukuna groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And not just any boy, either. Satoru Gojo! Of all the sorcerers you could encounter…”

“I’m sorry, Father.”

With a heavy sigh, Sukuna stood and placed four sets of hands on her shoulders.

“Well, as long as you have someone other than Baekho and me to keep you out of trouble…I’ll allow it.” Sukuna surprised her with a kiss to her forehead before stalking away. “But if he ever lays a hand on you, I’ll dismantle and cleave the little ass until he is a puddle of blood and marrow.”

Continue Reading -> Ch. 5

[kimeoshi]

‘Twas both 👁👁, but yeah honestly I’m very interested cause damn- (sorry if I seem awkward I’m not good with online interaction 😭😭 LMAO)

NAH no worries you're doing fine!!

It's a pretty wide array of topics but touching the surface of it, I'll go into my art process.

Here's a short thread where I went into this similarly!

I pretty much follow the steps of what I mentioned there, but it varies a little bit based on the style I go for too: painting whole illustrations or design or more simple fun things.

I could describe what I did in each frame of my process gifs which I've posted before but I would need some time. With big pieces, the steps I go by (read slowly, it's a pretty dense text):

thumbnailing -> sketching with bigger shapes to get the line of action/feel (that is, I'm just blocking out the composition) -> refine that a bit -> hide BG, draw the characters (lineart) and add the base colors of them. (then merge & rasterize a copy of it for later) -> put them back in the environment (unhide BG), make them grey -> add shading in greyscale style (multiply layers, glow dodge layers, you name it) -> get that previous rasterized layer back and put it on color mode -> those characteristic shiny parts get a new layer with overly saturated + high brightness colors -> color BG with a new color layer -> then rendering/refining for concerning amounts of time -> add effects and change color/brightness/contrast curves + gradient map -> profit???

For software, I generally use Paint Tool SAI (I adore blending/painting here), I use Clip Studio Paint for the 3D posing library/sketching/lineart, and Photoshop for final effects. (Update: I mostly do all things in CSP now)

(if you have CSP, try out this brush... it saved my life)

As for improvement:

I experiment, watch a lot of youtube videos (I personally like the ones which analyse an artist). I suggest thoroughly understanding how something moves and works (for anatomy I can recommend the book 'Anatomy for Sculptors'), I also study and jot down important pieces of advice or insights to a collective document, rather than saving them to my device where it is highly likely to be forgotten.

I believe if you put great importance on colors and composition, that can cause the most noticeable, 'fastest' improvement, at least if you view it from the lens of social media. (While online environments provide significant reassurance, it must be engaged with in moderation, as it is easy to fall into a lot of negative mindsets, taking the enjoyment out by perfectionism, comparison, or seeking validation, etc.)

Another improvement technique you can try is to slow down a speedpaint video of your choice and follow along with the artist. Extremely useful, I recommend, put your artist under a microscope.

Of course I don't do all of these things every single waking hour, it's just a side hobby to my unrelated studies in real life. Even if you don't actively draw your visual library and knowledge can improve passively, I find that so fascinating. I don't touch a paper for months and there's a sudden jump, like damn what. (Not saying you should do this, active learning is still better ofc) Either way my point with that is, that improving does and did take a lot of time for me as well.

Apologies if this goes all over the place, I tried to touch upon every subject that came to mind at the moment, in not too much in detail, overall I hope it makes sense

If you have any specific questions related, feel free to ask! Or if there's any specific problem you'd like to tackle but find yourself lost, same applies!

[roseeycreates-blog]

when did tenzin get his tattoo in farmer au?

Hi, anon~

Thanks so much for the ask! Honestly, I really appreciate these questions because they get me thinking about stuff I might not have considered~ 🤩

So, Tenzin got his tattoos at 25, and by then, he and Lin were already a thing—Lin was 24. At that point, only the Gaang kids knew about their relationship, though Tenzin's parents had a hunch he was seeing someone. Lin was super supportive of Tenzin during his training. He was feeling the pressure because he was getting older and still hadn’t earned his tattoos. But with Lin's encouragement, he mastered everything and even developed a new technique—the air wheel.

The idea actually came up one day when they were chilling on Lin's farm after she’d finished work. Tenzin and Lin sat under the shade of a large tree on her farm, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the fields. Lin leaned back against the trunk, a content smile on her face as she enjoyed the peaceful moment.

"You know," Lin began, breaking the silence, "I’ve been thinking… Could airbending be useful in farming?"

Tenzin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Hmm, maybe. I suppose the air scooter could help dig or move around."

Lin chuckled, shaking her head. "That’d just make a round hole. I need something that can actually plow the field. Plus, the air scooter takes up too much space."

Tenzin’s eyes lit up as an idea began to form. "What about… an air wheel? It’s like the scooter, but instead of a sphere, it’s a wheel. You could move around more easily, and it’d take up less space. Plus, it might even help with plowing."

Lin’s eyes sparkled with interest. "An air wheel? That sounds like it could work. You should try it."

Over the next few weeks, Tenzin spent his free time at the farm, perfecting the technique with Lin’s help.

Lin was so proud of him. She even attended his ceremony when he got his tattoos. After the ceremony, Tenzin pulled Lin aside, his eyes filled with excitement. "Lin, I was thinking… Maybe I could introduce you to my family today. Tell them you’re my girlfriend."

Lin’s smile faltered slightly, but she quickly recovered. "Tenzin, this is your day. You should focus on your achievement. We can meet your family another time."

Tenzin looked at her, sensing her hesitation. "Are you sure? I want them to know how important you are to me."

Lin nodded, her smile returning. "I’m sure. But today is about you, and you deserve all the attention. We’ll figure out the right time to meet them. Okay?"

Tenzin squeezed her hand, understanding. "Alright, but I’m holding you to that."

Lin laughed softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

Truthfully, she was nervous about meeting his family and being introduced to the Air Nation folks, especially the abbots and acolytes.

[ghost-bxrd]

hey so this might be a really weird question but I like your art a lot and was hoping you could give me some advice

I really want to start drawing stuff but I have no idea where to start and how to get better do you have any advice/recommendations

Ahhh thank you I’m really happy you like it 💚💚💚

I’m not the best at explaining things, but I’ll try my best to explain some of the thought process. ✨do keep in mind tho that I’m not a professional by any means >.<

Assuming you want to practice digital art then it’s definitely important to choose the medium that works best for you. Personally I use a tablet and specifically designed pencil for this.

As for the art itself.. much of it is trial and error, I’m afraid. But I can definitely recommend using reference pictures to practice composition and anatomy! Don’t fixate too much on details at first (heck, even start with stick figures. As long as you know where the head and the feet are supposed to be you’re good ksksksks).

Once that step is done you can try going back and refining your sketch. I recommend using a new layer for this and turning the sketch’s opacity down to 50 at most. Now you can fix whatever you’re not totally happy with yet and add some details.

Repeat this process until you’ve got your line art and are happy with the result 💚 and then you could try blocking in larger color areas. Maybe look up some videos on shading and lighting techniques. Just like with your sketch, don’t fixate on the details at first. Art is a process. A lot of times it’s just blobs of color you continuously add details to until they start making sense.

I’m pretty sure this post is only half coherent. I’m crap at explaining 😭 but if you’d like I could totally post a time lapse video of a piece I made? Maybe that would be more helpful :3

[cr33p5]

any tips for newer artists? im just so impressed with your art all the time and i would love to know how you do it :)

thank you! :)

i am by no means a professional and i’m mostly self taught so take what i say with a grain of salt lol, but here’s some tips that helped me personally!

it also rlly depends what stage you’re at but i think these are just general tips that may be helpful :)

1. experiment! it’s very important to step out of your comfort zone and i still have a lot of trouble with that one, trying new things like techniques and styles is hard, but it’s so rewarding once you start to get the hang of something new

like seriously experimenting was SO helpful to me, that’s how you discover things. especially with things like brushes, textures, layer settings, shading, don’t knock it till you try it!

2. try not to get too caught up in replicating other people’s styles or methods especially in tutorials, i would often try to copy people’s exact steps and get frustrated when i couldn’t do it, think of tutorials more as a general guide than a concrete method. put your own spin on it!

3. take inspiration from other artists you like, one thing i did was gather up lots of drawings from my favorite artists and made a list of specific elements that i liked, to try them out for myself and see what worked and what didn’t

4. don’t compare yourself to other artists, i still have trouble with this, we’re all going on our own path and comparison can really bring you down and bum you out

5. depending on what you wanna do with art, don’t take it too seriously! especially if it’s just for fun or a hobby, there’s always room to improve but remember at the end of the day you’re doing it for you and you shouldn’t d work yourself to the bone

6. have fun! be silly with it, draw whatever you want and what makes you happy, i used to hold back drawing so many things out of some fear of being ‘cringe’ but who cares! if you’re not hurting anyone draw what you want!

[lilithedelweiss]

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What you'll learn in this transformation:

💄 Sculpting a flawless contour to enhance your face and create that perfect diva silhouette.

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[hyperpocky28]

RANT ABOUT ONLINE CULTURE WOO!! The topic is: the normalization of the refusal to broaden your horizons through edgy comments and how that has greatly contributed to the media literacy crisis. Featuring Yves Klein!

I’m sure by now you’ve noticed that people online have gotten scarily dumber. Not to put myself on a pedestal- I am also lumped in with this category. The only difference is that I am aware of my flaw and am trying to amend it. The general online populous has widely adopted an unempathetic and

I just came across a WONDERFUL explanation of Klein Blue by milkisweird on tiktok. Klein’s work as recently been criticized by people online saying that they could easily replicate his pieces. In response, Milk posted a very helpful slideshow on the topic. They explain how Yves Klein spent years developing the shade of blue on the canvas and how it literally did not exist before him.

The large blue canvas isn’t meant to show off artistic technique, it’s presented to show the immense hard work and artistic/chemical abilities that art can bring out. This guy liked blue so much he made another blue. Like. Dude.

The facts are staring them in the face: they physically would not have been able to make that painting if not for the artist and it is in this museum as a relic of history. However, for whatever reason, people in the comments refuse to accept this!! Take a look:

You as the reader may think that this is just the internet being obnoxious. But these are just a few of the top comments with tens of thousands of likes. These comments may seem unassuming, but they are actually extremely harmful. They are, whether they know it or not, perpetuating the idea that history does not matter. I can paint a canvas blue. I don’t care about the paint. I don’t care about the years of labor and love it took to create this. I do not care about history. It’s stupid. It’s not art. It’s not a pretty picture of a scene or a portrait of a beautiful woman. It disregards everything groundbreaking about this piece as something anyone can do. And when this idea is agreed upon by thousands… I think you can see how bad things have truly gotten.

Poetically, this relates back to the hilarious haha saying that, “the curtains are just blue!” This is another comment frequently thrown around that directly discourages people from looking for a deeper meaning. Instead of looking for a potential significance in the work that may have even been unintended, those seeking more are shut down. There’s no need to look deeper! You’re being stupid. The curtains are just blue. It’s deeply concerning how it’s just expected to not do any further research into a topic, especially when most people get their information from social media. Please read the news, read articles, studies, anything. Avoid confirmation bias and LEARN. There is usually something more than what meets the eye. Education (not just from schools!) is one of the most important aspects of life! Learn!!

These edgy comments can go even further to diminish human suffering and empathy, no matter how minor. Someone posts about a breakup? Womp womp. Someone just lost their pet? The world keeps spinning. Sharing that you are sad about something that isn’t totally devastating? Damn I kinda don’t care. Share your art as a beginner? Make something that might be a little cringe? Post about something that isn’t completely the norm? Have a fucking personality for once? Oh..!

Bullying has become disgustingly normalized on the internet. You cannot post a TikTok without the looming fear of being bullied off the platform. Something needs to be done about it. Call it out next time you see it, I beg. Because not only is this putting down others for no real reason, but it reinforces a rather harmful norm of complacency and stupidity. Anything outside the norm needs to be eradicated. God forbid you learn something new.

TL;DR: The online sphere has greatly decreased media literacy by sheer lack of care and compassion for other people, and the refusal to learn/look for meaning.

With all that being said, do some research for me. Be loving to those who aren’t like you, and don’t shoot people down for doing things that are ultimately harmless. Speak up when you see injustice and help as much as you can.

Love ya,

A

[cringe--is--dead]

Hii! I saw your post about windbreaker match ups and wanted to try it. I’ve never done these before so sorry if its a bit awkward!

I’m considered a leader figure and a mother figure personality wise. Growing up a lot of people always depended on me in a nurturing way and I’d like to think i’m very motherly?? I’m a huge dork tho… (I’ve been told) who’s very passionate about learning (literally anything new) and I’m an extroverted introvert. Just overall i’m a huge nerd who loves learning and encouraging people to learn or improve and I love taking care of the people around me! I’m a generally cheerful person who always tries her best, though I get really embarrassed if people compliment me cause I’m not really used to it

My hobbies include learning (anything), studying what teas/herbs do for the body, like an apothecary, and studying. I love learning about natural medicines. When I’m not studying/learning I love practicing martial arts. I’m constantly trying out new techniques and moves from different styles… (but my base style is a lot of kung fu, taichi, and deflection)

I don’t have pets but would really love a cat or dog! One that is fluffy (pomsky, ragdoll). I’m a cat person in general though!

I’m a dark/light academia girl and my aesthetic of clothes and style are mostly shades of browns and neutral colors. I also wear a lot of turtlenecks. I’m really into the academia style

I didn’t grow up with alot of media aside from anime, so my favorite shows all time are fairy tail and inuyasha! Movie wise I love the Kung Fu Panda movies. Books… Probably the Witch of BlackBird Pond!

I hope this wasn’t too much of a bore to read :C… Make sure to drink water and take care of yourself! Thanks for listening to my character profile lolol

AH! this is my first match-up I’m so excited! >.<

Okay! To he honest my brain immediately went “oooh Umemiya!” but then I went no… wait…

Therefore I’m matching you with Hiragi!

I think this man needs some good balancing out, someone level headed that helps him manage his younger classmates (as well as the other 3rd years), but I also think he needs someone to help him cut loose!

Your study of teas and other remedies is something that you can use and it comes in handy. You brew him teas that not only taste good but help his stressed induced pains! Next thing you know he’s cutting down on his gaskun-10! Good job!

I can also imagine Hiragi as the guy who agrees to adopt a pet because you want to, but swears up and down he won’t grow attached. Then you go to his one day and see your cat napping, cuddled on up a sleeping Hiragi’s chest.

Not attached? Sure.

I also feel like he’s the kind of boyfriend who would spar with you! Yes, he pulls his punches, but because the way you two fight is different in styles, and he doesn’t actually want to hurt you. So you show him new martial arts moves you learn, you have occasionally knocked him onto his ass, and he always feels so proud about it.

He casually brags about it whenever he can. (so all the time)

He’s also the kind of boyfriend who hears you mention a topic you’re interested in once, and next thing you know he’s bought you books about said topic, taking you to a museum or event that deals with said topic, and loves to listen to you talk about all the things you’ve learned!