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kingofpopmj · 8 months ago

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Just Promise Baby, You'll Love Me Forevermore

Summary: Michael and Y/N take part in an interview together.

Pairing: Michael Jackson x Actress!Reader

Warnings: fluff, Fluff and more FLUFF Requested: Yes

"Hello everyone, we're having some last minute lighting issues. We should be good to go in a few minutes. Please stand by." A tall man with long brown hair and a headset announced to the room.

The interviewer stood alone tapping her foot, a young twenty-something brunette woman. She had become a household name overnight because of this very interview, her first high level project. She wore a figure hugging navy blue pantsuit with light makeup. She was nervously checking her clipboard every few seconds, scribbling down last minute notes.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, it's very nice to meet you. Thank you so much for being here." Y/N's sweet voice filled the air, introducing herself as if everyone didn't already know her name, but it said a lot about her character. She gracefully made her way around the room kindly making conversation with each person present. Her undivided attention was given to each individual, nothing less, she hung on their every word, asking thoughtful questions in return and in those few moments they were putty in her hands.

"Hello, how are you? I'm Michael. Thank you for taking part in this project with us." Michael Jackson—THE Michael Jackson followed a few paces behind Y/N, his version of walking appeared more like gliding. Eventually, he caught up with Y/N, securing a firm arm around her, his thumb rubbing circles in her hip. They continued greeting everyone and they swept them off their feet as a team. A beautiful, kind-hearted team. It was truly indescribable— like watching two mythical creatures prove their existence right before our eyes.

It was overwhelming— in the most amazing way possible. The star power aside, they seemed very normal. The two of them genuinely enjoyed meeting everyone, didn't leave anyone out and remembered every name. Michael stole glances, numerous lingering stares at his beloved. The way he looked at her, you could feel his emotions, he didn't just think she was beautiful— she was his everything. He didn't laugh or smile until he saw that she was doing the same. The protectiveness was evident. He wasn't jealous or threatened. He was cautious and confident. The way he watched over her wasn't possessive, it was sweet, like she was as vital to him as his own beating heart.

"Let's get our stars set with microphones." A short woman shuffled over to Michael and Y/N, guiding them over to their seats. They were going through the process of being wired up and I couldn't help but to admire their carefree nature.

They stood in front of one another, pulling silly faces at each other, giggling and enjoying themselves. They somehow managed to make this room feel like a home and everyone in it extended family.

"That works. Daryl, thank you." Y/N smiled, placing her hand on the assistants shoulder, the redness taking over his face and growing deeper by the second as he scurried off.

The couple shared a moment, whispering to one another with coquettish smiles. Michael moved to stand in front of her as she took her seat. He removed his coat without a second thought, Y/N waving her hands in the air as if to reject the gesture, but he paid no mind. He carefully placed the coat across her thighs, protecting her from wandering eyes and cameras. A tender kiss to her lips before he walked off for a moment.

"Hello, I'm Leslie, I'll be conducting the interview today. I can't believe you're here! This is insane! This is so cool!" She became very giddy, barely catching herself from continuing, Y/N sweetly matched her enthusiasm. "I mean, it's such an honor to meet you. I'm a huge fan. You're so talented." She spoke quickly, her eyes shining brightly with excitement. "You're even more beautiful in person. Thank you for agreeing to this and selecting me to be your interviewer. I know this interview is the first of its kind. I'm incredibly grateful to be part of it."

Y/N listened closely, nodding her head, following along, silently studying the woman before her, then standing up and leaning in for a sweet embrace. Leslie was visibly losing her mind, Y/N shared words of encouragement as she held her. She's sweet, astonishingly delightful and humble.

“Thank you so much. Leslie, you’re very kind. I appreciate you taking us up on the offer. We took time to watch your interviews and were blown away by your style. We knew immediately you were the one we wanted to create this with. We're really excited."

"I still can't believe you two know who I am. I'm so nervous. I apologize in advance if I become even more of a blubbering mess when Mr. Jackson joins us. I know he's your—"

"Oh, please call me Michael. It's lovely to finally meet you." A delicate voice sounded from behind Leslie. Y/N watched as he made his way to the seat next to her, a smile on her face and a light blush across her cheeks. Michael held his hand out to greet Leslie, but she was frozen.

"I'm— Wow— Okay." She stuttered. "This is real. This is happening. Michael, it's great to meet you. I'm a huge fan of you. Both of you. I'm actively struggling to process all of this." She giggled as she gestured toward the two celebrities in front of her. "I— wow. This is mind boggling."

"Thank you. We feel the exact same way. We admire your work as well." Michael said with soft laughter, as Leslie appeared to forget how to breathe. He then directed his attention to Y/N.

"You grow more beautiful by the second. My love, how do you feel, are you comfortable?" He kissed her cheek, gently resting his hand on top of hers. Michael made a habit of asking her that question throughout their relationship. If for any reason she didn't feel safe in a space, no explanation was needed, just a yes or a no and Michael would whisk her away. He knew firsthand how this industry operated and he intended to protect her at all costs.

"You're such a flirt. I’m doing just fine. Thank you honey." She giggled, hiding behind her long hair.

"The two minutes we had to part in the hallway were dreadful.” Michael pouted clutching his chest for dramatic effect.

"Those two minutes were nearly unsurvivable." Y/ N sweetly agreed while caressing his cheek.

It was beautiful to watch them interact in a somewhat private setting. The way they love one another was so authentic, so intimate, but not far enough to be uncomfortable for those in their company. It was real. They're just two people, with unfathomable talent, insane lifestyles but deeply in love and undeniably their true selves.

"We're ready to go!" A man's voice echoed through the studio.

Leslie nodded, taking a few deep breaths and glancing over her notes one last time.

"Three, Two, One." The cameraman spoke, pointing over to Leslie, signaling her to begin her introduction.

"Good evening, I'm Leslie Johnson, thank you for joining us tonight. Tonight is vastly different from our usual programming because tonight you are witnessing history in the making. Our first ever live interview with undoubtedly the two greatest stars this generation has ever seen. They are gifted with talent you only see once in a lifetime. These two phenomenons aren't only loved and respected for their craft, but also the positive impact they make to protect the earth and all of humanity. They have gracefully taken over the business and they are just getting started. Please help me in welcoming our guests for tonight, as if further introduction is needed, the people's sweetheart, Miss Y/N Y/L/N and the one and only, Mister Michael Jackson." She held her smile as the camera fanned out, Y/N and Michael now on screen.

"Thank you for having us Leslie." Michael spoke up for the both of them.

"Thank you both for making this production what it is. I must add that 100% of the proceeds for tonights event are being graciously donated to the charities of our guests choosing." The entire crew behind the cameras began cheering. Michael smiled, covering his face slightly at the scene in front of him. Y/N, reached over holding his hand, smiling ear to ear as she admired him. She helped calm his nerves and soon enough he wasn’t shielding his smile.

"Let's get started!" Leslie clapped. "I'll start with a question for Michael, you've been in this industry since you were five years old, there is so much pressure in your chosen profession, with the mass hysteria that follows, how do you preserve who you are and remain so humble?"

"That's a great question." He spoke softly, shifting in his seat, then continuing. "My upbringing plays an important role in that, my values and morals were something instilled in me at a very young age. As I’ve grown up in this industry, as you pointed out, I witnessed many great artists and their careers. I knew early on what I wanted to do and how I wanted to accomplish it, so watching those that came before me helped to navigate through tough times. It's a difficult lifestyle, but I remind myself daily how thankful I am for the gifts god has blessed me with and the opportunities he's allowed me to experience. Also, it helps to surround yourself with beautiful people who you admire and who help you grow in ways that you never imagined possible. I'm very blessed." A visible warmth took over his cheeks as he very bluntly referred to his girlfriend sitting next to him.

"Lovely, it's amazing to see how you handle everything thrown at you. It's clear that you have a beautiful heart and being in your presence it's overwhelming because of how genuine you are. It's difficult to wrap our minds around it, because you don't let the fame get to your head. It's admirable. I would like to know, Y/N, how you feel, is there anything you would like to add?"

"Michael is one of a kind. All his talent aside, Michael the person is so incredibly caring, hysterical, gentle and thoughtful. I feel that's why people fall in love with him. They hear his music, they see him perform and it's so magical that you want to know how it came to be, you want to understand the real person on a deeper level. When you dig deeper you find this soft-spoken, intelligent, compassionate and crazy handsome man. To fall in love with him is inevitable." As Y/N spoke, Michael watched her intently. He worshipped her, the love struck look on his face and you just knew, you could feel him falling more in love with her with each passing second.

"That sounds like you're speaking from experience." Leslie joked. "Y/N, you made your acting debut as a toddler, though you didn't have many speaking lines in your first film, you managed to capture the hearts of people all around the world. My question is, how have you managed to gracefully grow into the young woman before us today and still have a firm hold on our hearts?"

"My guess is as good as yours." She giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear. "l'd say, I did my best with every opportunity I was blessed with. Although it was difficult at times, I focused on protecting who I was and who I wanted to be away from the spotlight. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by a team that protected my privacy to the best of their abilities. This helped me to have the most normal of a childhood I could, but unfortunately, I still missed out on a lot. I shared most of my life, whether I wanted to or was forced to, the media can be very invasive at times. However, I've tried to make the best out of every situation, so I think that's something that people related to and also, many people feel as though they've grown up with me."

“Yes, I can't imagine how difficult it must’ve been to deal with grown men chasing you around with cameras at such a young age." Leslie responded with a hint of a frown as she processed Y/N’s explanation.

"Now, it's just me she has to deal with." Michael surprisingly perked up, making camera noises with his mouth and holding an imaginary camera. Y/N laughed uncontrollably, her shoulders shaking as she held her stomach. Michael sat up straighter than before with a triumphant grin on his face, proud of himself for making her laugh.

"She has the best laugh, doesn’t she?" Michael gushed, watching adoringly as Y/N tried to compose herself.

"That she does." Leslie smirked, enjoying watching Michael become more comfortable. "This next question is for both of you. You're two of the most recognizable faces in the world, everyone is curious, how you manage to go out and have a peaceful day or night out on the town?"

"It's definitely a challenge. There is definitely intense planning that goes into anything we do. Thankfully, we both have incredible security teams, so they join forces for us when we want to get out and explore together." Y/N responded quickly.

"We've accepted that if were out in public we will never truly be alone. Privacy is out of the question, which we've made our peace with. We don't mind meeting fans, conversing with locals, that’s not a problem. They are always very kind and respectful. Paparazzi on the other hand are a different story. They add a layer of uncertainty in the air and they can be very aggressive. If they just calmed down and gave us a bit of personal space we could all coexist peacefully." Michael added.

"I'm glad you brought that up Michael, you gave me the perfect segue to my next question. It's well known that photographers and paparazzi can become very intense when trying to capture a shot. Y/N, there was an incident last month when you attended the Grammy Awards with Michael. There was a massive commotion that took place on the red carpet. Many theories have been circulating the media, which purposely paint the two of you in a negative light. I feel that due to the nature of the issue you two should get the opportunity to tell your side of the story. The truth. Would one or both of you like to answer this and set the record straight?"

Y/N appeared to grow more nervous as the question left Leslie’s mouth. She tucked her hair behind her ear and shifted her gaze over to Michael, who was already looking back at her.

"Leslie, there are people that push boundaries that simply shouldn’t be pushed." Michael began, shaking his head softly, enveloping Y/N's hand in both of his. "That night, there were a few photographers that were screaming louder than the others, really nasty things, specifically towards my lady. We did our best to drown that out until it became physical. Y/N endured bruises down her arm and back from being aggressively grabbed at, so I had no choice but to step in. On top of that, they attempted to photograph up her dress, which is just despicable. I did what needed to be done to keep her safe. I will not apologize for that."

"It was a terrifying experience, the backlash that followed was so unexpected and hurtful." Y/N's demeanor growing more guarded as she thought of how to answer. "I never thought something like that could happen. Michael did get into a bit of a physical altercation, which has been completely taken out of context as well. Although he was very upset he still attempted to diffuse the situation using his words, but he wasn’t given much of a choice. In the end, he protected me and I'm lucky he was there." Michael followed every motion of her lips intently with a small smirk on his lips.

“Michael, I have to say what we’re all thinking, who knew you had such a mean right hook.” Leslie chuckled. "Thank you for such honest words. I empathize deeply with what you were subjected to. I’m glad you have such an amazing partner. You two complement each other beautifully. I just have to ask, everyone is curious, since Michael is in the music industry and Y/N is in the film industry, how did the two of you meet?"

“Well, this man is sneaky let me tell you.” The smile on Y/N’s face, squeezing her eyes nearly shut. “So, Michael had his people contact mine to plan a meeting of some sort. He insisted he wanted me in a music video—”

“Babe, you’re forgetting a very important detail. We had met at the Oscars the night before and she basically asked me on a date—”

“Oh, you are exaggerating!”

“You said, and I quote, ‘I can’t wait to see you again.’ with a very flirtatious wink.” Michael reasoned, shifting in his seat to face her.

“You showered me with compliments Mr. Jackson. Within five minutes of meeting one another he told me it wasn’t until he met me that he believed in love.”

“And I was telling the truth.”

“And I was flirting.” She winked at him, causing his face to turn a bright shade of red.

“I guess it’s safe to say there was a mutual interest between the two of you. Will we ever see Y/N star in one of your music videos?”

“You know it’s something I’d love to create. I mean she has inspired a lot of my writing process these days. It seems fitting that my muse be in a video or two or three..” Michael’s voice becoming more playful as he tried to conceal his smirk.

“Y/N, how do you feel hearing you’re his muse? Would you be interested in starring alongside Michael in a film?” Leslie questioned, keeping the conversation moving.

“I’m flattered. It’s very flattering.” Y/N’s hand pressed against her cheek as she tried not to giggle uncontrollably. Michael licked his lips as he watched the effect his words had on her. “He’s so sweet. I’m a fan of everything Michael creates. Honestly, his voice is hands down my favorite sound. You know, to make a film together would be awesome. I would love that! I think Michael would do a phenomenal job.”

“You’ve been together for quite some time. I’m sure you’ve had some lovely adventures with one another. Are there any special memories you’re comfortable sharing with us? And, is there anything you look forward to experiencing together that you haven’t yet?”

“First vacation together?” Michael raised his eyebrow at Y/N.

“Michael invited me to accompany him in Italy.” Y/N had this sparkle in her as she looked back at Michael. It was like they were the only two people in the room.

“Italy? Wow. Michael, you brought out the big guns.” Leslie laughed.

“Oh yes. I was on tour at the time and thankfully I had scheduled days off in between each concert, so it worked out perfectly.”

“That was the first time I saw him on stage.” Y/N gushed.

“How was it to see Michael in action? What is the most memorable thing?”

“He’s magic. There’s no other way to describe it. I always tease him about it because he makes it seem like he’s just going for a walk. Performing comes so natural to him. He said, ‘I have to go do something.’ Kissed me on the cheek then went on stage in front of hundreds of thousands of people. He was so nonchalant about it. It’s a sweet unpretentious kind of confidence.” Y/N giggled, reaching over to tuck Michael’s curl behind his ear, which he playfully rolled his eyes at.

“I was trying to impress her. When she arrived at the stadium, I was reminded just how out of my league this woman is—”

“Oh stop!” Y/N poked his side, causing him to let out a deep laugh. “You were very intimidating to meet Mr. Jackson.”

“So were you dear.” He brought her hand to meet his lips. “So were you.”

“Bubbles watched me like a hawk! That boy would squeeze in between us if we sat next to one another. He was difficult to win over.”

“He loves you now.”

“Yes. At the end of our first date, Michael walked me back to my room and as we were about to kiss goodnight, I was launched into the pool. Bubbles’ and I have been inseparable since.”

“That was just his way of welcoming you to the family.” Michael shrugged, biting his lip hard to keep from hollering. “It’s like an initiation.”

“Initiation?” Y/N’s tone was enough to make Michael lose it. His signature fedora nearly fell off his head as his laughter filled the air.

“You are his favorite now. Y/N comes over and he’s glued to her hip. He pushes me away now.”

“He threw an entire cake at Michael the other day.” She buried her face in her hands as her shoulders began bouncing rhythmically.

“Yes! The candles were lit too.”

“What happened? Why did he throw the cake at you?” Leslie asked between laughs.

“It was Y/N’s birthday. We had finished singing to her and I leaned in for a kiss which he absolutely lost his mind over.” Michael explained, “Fortunately, most of the candles blew out as the cake flew through the air, but one did burn a hole in my coat.”

“I didn’t know Bubbles had such great aim.” Leslie spoke in shock.

“Bubbles’ is very passionate.” Michael’s face was serious “He’ll yell at me if I’m stealing too much of Y/N’s attention.”

“Aw, he’s not that bad.” Y/N tried to reason.

“He’s not bad. He just bullies me sometimes.” Michael fake pouted and crossed his arms. His beloved leaned her head on his shoulder, trying to comfort him although she couldn’t help giggling just a little bit.

“Oh no!” Leslie exclaimed. “It sounds like you’ve got competition. Speaking of kisses, Michael, every picture I see of the two of you, you’ve got your lips on Y/N. You are usually very reserved, what is it about Y/N that brings out that side of you?”

“I’m comfortable when I’m with her. I’m able to be myself. Also, nothing will stop me from showing my lady some love.” Michael pulled Y/N closer, gently placing his finger on her chin turning her head to face him.

The kiss was short and sweet.

Michael was very deliberate when it involved Y/N. He never wanted her to doubt his love for her. He knew how he wanted to make her feel. Then, did whatever it took to accomplish just that. The look in Y/N eyes said it all, Michael never missed.

“I have to ask, as we begin to wrap things up. Michael, Y/N, where do you see yourselves in five years? Are there any goals you have as a couple or as individuals you’d like to share?” The brunette spoke, flipping her page over quietly.

“Together? We will definitely be married and have at least a dozen little ones running around Neverland.” Michael answered quickly, his tone very matter of fact as if we should’ve known that already.

“Bubbles’ does need siblings.” Y/N added with a smile.

“How would you two juggle family responsibilities and your careers?” Leslie asked carefully.

“Well, I think we’d figure it out along the way. The most important thing to us would be raising our babies. We didn’t have much of a childhood ourselves, so we’d be very hands on in order to give them everything we didn’t have. When it comes to our careers, if Michael is touring we’d join him on the road, if I’m filming on location they’d come along. It just depends. Maybe one of or both of us would want to be stay at home parents. At the end of the day, what’s best for our children is the number one priority.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself lovely.” Michael complimented her, practically gawking at her, clearly loving that they were on the same page about their shared future.

The interview came to a close shortly after. Michael and Y/N went around the studio the same way they did when they first arrived. They had intended to say their goodbyes, but enjoyed everyone’s company too much to leave just yet. They posed for photographs and signed every item sent their way with a smile on their face. What should’ve been just a few hours turned into a daylong event. The couple stayed for a little celebration party and treated the crew to a lovely dinner.

Three months later, Michael and Y/N were the headlines of every publication. Their faces were on every television channel. The media was in a state of hysteria that has never been seen before. It turns out that the couple was husband and wife. They had gotten married and managed to keep it secret for a whole year, but that wasn’t the only surprise.

The Jackson’s were expecting their first child together.

Y/N was about five months along.

The pair was thrilled about starting their family.

The craziest part of the whole story was a detail that the media would never know. Three months earlier, Michael and Y/N shared their news with everyone present in the studio that day. They felt comfortable enough to trust us with such a precious moment in their lives. Since then, the couple enjoyed a somewhat quiet three months without anyone spoiling their announcement or betraying their trust.

We didn’t just make history that night we formed a bond, an incredible friendship that would last a lifetime.

#michael jackson imagine #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson imagines #michael jackson fanfiction #michael jackson fanfic

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zosan-secondchances · 2 months ago

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The Pirate King of the North: Part 7

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Zoro should count his lucky stars when Nami showed up when she did. She was on her way to Sabaody Archipelago to personally deliver the map that he asked for. He hadn’t seen their former navigator for almost a decade so he was taken aback at how powerful she had become manipulating the weather the way she did. It’s not that he ever underestimated her before, but he won’t openly admit that to her. She practically took on an entire armada of Pacifistas on multiple Marine vessels without so much as getting a scratch or being seen. It looks like travelling the world on Weatheria has worked out very well for her. The swordsman reminds himself to send a letter to Usopp to compliment his handiwork with her new staff as well.

Law had received their message and had been waiting at Duval’s base ahead of them. They should be celebrating Sanji’s success and their return, but the Heart Pirates had no smiles to share that night.

Bepo pushed the stretcher where Sanji laid, rushing him to the surgery room aboard the Polar Tang. Keeping up with them, a few other members of the Heart Pirates worked together to wrap a breathing mask around the blonde’s face, manage the gas tanks and calibrate other medical equipment attached to the stretcher while Law held the IV line that’s secured to the blonde’s arm. He injects a clear liquid into the drip chamber as he walks along quickly.

Law

Penguin, I need that blood result as soon as you can get them. We may need to look for donors if we don’t have his type in stock. I doubt royal blood type comes in abundance.

Penguin

Yes, Captain!

Penguin turns his heel with a few other members of the crew following him. They walk past Zoro, who is following closely behind, the entire front of his robe stained with dried blood.

Sanji

Wait…

Law

Sleep tight, Mr. Prince-ya.

Sanji weakly pulls the pouch that was looped around his wrist. He stretches it towards Zoro, wincing when he holds out his hand to a certain extent.

Law

Don't move, idiot!

Seeing that Sanji wouldn't listen to the doctor, Zoro rushes to his side and grabs the pouch by its bottom. The blonde clasps Zoro’s hands in his as he holds onto it tightly. With a dry mouth, he speaks in a rasp.

Sanji

I'm entrusting these to you until I get back. Promise me that you won't lose them.

Zoro opens his mouth as if to say something but ends up staring at their hands. There's just about a million things that he wants to tell and ask him, but can't seem to decide which one to say out loud first.

Sanji resists closing his eyes shut. He props himself on the elbow on the side without the open wound, still holding onto the swordsman as if his life depended on it.

Law

Oi! Lay back down.

Sanji

Marimo, I need to hear it.

Zoro looks up to his eyes. What was once bright and blue are now completely filled with pain and desperation, much like a helpless animal cornered by a beast.

Sanji coughs, getting a splatter of blood on the white sheets of the stretcher, some drips at the corner of his mouth. Law pushes him back down by the chest.

Law

I said lay down! You’re making it worse!

Sanji

Zoro, your word.

Zoro wants to give him the moon on a silver string.

Sanji

Please….

Zoro

Y–yes! I promise.

Sanji

Good….

At that, Sanji succumbs to slumber.

—

Zoro emerges from inside the submarine and into the chill of the night on the top deck. His head is down and hands tucked inside his sleeves, working the pouch loops around his forearm to keep it secure and out of sight. He stops then straightens himself in front of Nami who’s reading the most recent papers that she had acquired just a few moments ago. When the navigator sees him, she quickly folds the paper and tucks it under an arm.

Nami

So…was that who I think it was?

Zoro

The Pirate King of the North?

Yeah….

Nami tilts her head on the side as she eases back against the railing of the deck.

Nami

The one you wanted dead.

Zoro

Yes.

Nami

For…what, twenty years? Give or take? And…now, for a reason you wouldn’t tell me, you want him…not dead?

Zoro

Y–yeah….

Zoro rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. It’s not that he doesn’t want to share any details with her, it’s just that he’s still trying to figure out how he feels about the man himself.

Nami

He’s kinda cute, actually. Minus all the bleeding.

Zoro

Yeah….

Nami raises her eyebrows. She gives the swordsman a moment to process his own response.

Zoro’s mind is still shocked and dazed following the events of Sabaody Archipelago. When he realises what he had said to the navigator, he stammers, and tries to find the right response to save himself. After not coming up with one, he settles with just crossing his arms and looking away grumpily. He eyes Duval’s tiki bar on one of their open docks where the man himself and the rest of his Flying Fish gang are currently at, drinking merrily while looking after the family that they had liberated.

Nami gives the swordsman a cheeky smile. After a second, her expression darkens.

Nami

You’re not going to like this then….

The navigator holds out the papers to him.

Zoro takes the papers hesitantly then unfolds them to the front page. His blood boils at the sight of the headlines.

“WORLD NOBLE DONATES TO CHARITY, GETS DISMEMBERED AND ROBBED BY PIRATE KING.”

Nami

Zoro…did this actually happen?

The swordsman remembers what Law had told him about the Marines twisting the truth in favour of the Celestial Dragons. While he knew that the headline and the article weren't entirely untrue, it didn't cover anything about the malice behind the World Noble. Unintentionally, he starts visibly shaking with fury, ripping the entirety of the paper from its sides. Purple aura starts to surround him and sparks of red zap from within. At that point, he wants to rid the face of the planet of all Celestial Dragons and their supporters.

Nami

Hey! I was reading that!

Duval

Is everything okay up there?!

Duval was shouting with concern from the tiki bar down at the docks. When Nami looks over from the side of the sub, she gives him and the worried crowd a reassuring wave after noticing how tense everyone had become–no doubt feeling the swordsman’s unintentional haki flexing.

Nami

Yes, yes! The adults are talking here, so don’t come up!

Duval

But I’m technically older than you….

Looking slightly hurt, Duval returns to making drinks for the people around him. He tries to think of a good distraction to take everyone’s attention from all that tension aboard the ship.

Nami carefully reaches out and places both her hands on Zoro’s shoulders.

Nami

I know this is hard, but you need to calm down. You can wreck this whole place just by doing that. You don’t want that to happen.

Zoro continues to tremble under her but the navigator has learned from the past that nagging him about this would just fan the flames. She approaches with care.

Nami

Remember your breathing exercises? How you had to really step it up because of Brook distracting you?

Zoro’s shoulders flinch at the memory. His aura starts to stabilise.

Nami

How about that song he likes to play…? Do you remember it?

Sure enough, when the swordsman finally gets his senses back, he hears the chorus of Bink’s Sake sung out happily below them by the drunk Flying Fish Pirates and the joyous family that they had freed. Touched at the scene, along with the memories that start flooding through his mind, he relaxes. His aura disappears as quickly as it came.

Nami gives Zoro a couple of pats on the shoulder and takes a step back, separating herself from him.

Nami

Good job. Now come on, let’s get a drink. You look like you could use one. Or two. Or several. Honestly, knowing you, you’d bleed them dry. Screw it, let’s go get drunk. It’s been a while!

Zoro smiles at that, and nods. He misses having a friend who he trusts enough to let his guard down–let alone someone who can keep up with him when it comes to drinking.

Seeing the papers almost tipped him over the edge. Everything that they’d gone through from that previous island left him drained and suffocating. Now, he just feels so tired that he just wants to spend the rest of the night drinking, then nap the whole week away–not wanting to think of a certain blonde who’s currently fighting for his life.

The swordsman misses the times when things are a lot less complicated and a lot more straightforward. At this stage in life, he expects himself to be older and wiser, to know exactly what to do and when. However, nowadays he finds that he’d been second-guessing himself a lot more than ever.

He begins to think about the seemingly innocent game show at Sabao Dome, and how it quickly spiralled into dealing with a Celestial Dragon. He wonders if telling Sanji not to kill him was the right thing to do, and starts questioning his own knowledge of the world. He thinks about his own ignorance and the consequences that someone else had paid for in his lack thereof.

Maybe some people just deserve to die, so he considers going back to get the job done out of spite now that he has a better understanding of how and why his “friend” sees the world the way he does, and the world hates him for it.

Out of nowhere, he feels a slim arm wrap around his own as his navigator friend pulls him out of his trance to walk with him side by side. He doesn’t know how long he’d been just standing there just staring blankly. He welcomes Nami’s presence as it brings him back to reality, taking the opportunity to ground himself.

With a deep breath, he focuses on what’s currently around him. He slowly comes to, feeling the navigator's warmth next to him, smelling the sea in the air, and hearing the sounds of his own feet against the wooden deck and the merry singing in the distance. He pulls himself together and decides that he should stand by his own morals, to stay strong and keep his values. Now is the worst time to falter. If he’s to prove himself to be a real man to protect his friends, he shouldn’t be one to bend so easily.

—

Zoro wakes up the next morning feeling like hell. He pushes himself off whatever ground surface he ended up on, running his hands over his face, trying to ease the throbbing pain in his head. He doesn’t get hangovers a lot but for whatever reason, this is one of the few rare moments when he does and he has it bad.

The swordsman stretches, then winces at the pain from his back and shoulders, only just realising how sore he is from all the fighting and fleeing yesterday. When he looks down, he sees that he’s in a very loose orange boiler suit with the Heart Pirates jolly roger embossed on its front pocket. His face scrunches as a memory comes to mind.

He remembers getting a full lecture from Nami for not changing out of his blood-stained clothes before going out drinking. The Heart Pirates agreed with her so they took matters into their own hands when he refused to take her advice. It took almost the full crew to pin him down so they could clean and dress his wounds to avoid infection. To add insult to injury, Bepo forced him into his spare clothes, which are the only ones that aren't too small for the swordsman, to keep him protected from the chill of the night. They were very concerned that he’d catch a cold, especially having been soaked for hours in the oceanic storm.

He looks around to figure out where he is, then recognises that he’s sat in the middle of the floor of their room aboard the Polar Tang. The familiarity gives him relief. Over at the bunk beds, he sees a mess of orange hair on his pillow. A flash of another memory comes back to him–he’d talked to Nami a lot last night. She promised that she’d be there for him as he waits for Sanji to come out of surgery.

Zoro scooches his butt so his back rests against the far wall. He turns his gaze at the round window. By the looks of it, it’s already late morning so they’d just missed breakfast in the ship’s galley. He digs through his mind, trying to figure out if he saw the blonde at some point in the night but can’t seem to recall anything of the sort. Then he hears blankets shuffle around.

Nami

Morning…. Ugh…someone, kill me.

The navigator struggles to push herself up to a sitting position. With both hands, she parts her hair from her face then nurses her forehead with her fingers. She swings her legs off to the side to face Zoro.

Nami

So…do you want to talk about last night?

Zoro raises a brow at her then returns his gaze to the window.

Zoro

What else is there to talk about? I told you everything already.

Nami

No, you haven't!! You passed out first so I didn’t get all the details!

Zoro groans at the volume of her raised voice. He covers his eyes with a hand.

Zoro

I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mind if you keep it down? You’re doing my head in, witch. Also I didn’t pass out first–you did.

Nami

You were about to tell me about the kiss!

Zoro

Oh–then, no.

Nami

Zoro! Come on! This is the first time I hear you being involved with someone! Is he your first?

Zoro

Look, just forget it, alright? My head wasn't in a good place and I had too much to drink. Why do you care anyway? It’s none of your business.

Nami stands and puts her hands on her hips, looming over him. She gives him an intimidating glare.

Nami

That's not fair, Zoro.

The swordsman grunts in annoyance and chooses not to face her out of spite.

Zoro

What did I do now?

Nami

Do you only talk to me when you have a favour to ask? Or when you need something from me?

Zoro slides his hand off his face to properly look the fuming navigator eye to eye.

Nami

Do you have any idea how worried everyone's been? Sometimes we don’t even know if you’re still alive because no one hears anything from you, sometimes for years. We only know you are because you'd pop up in the papers once in a while.

We try calling but you always throw your snails away. We send you letters but you've only ever replied twice. So you'll have to forgive me if I get all excited just to hear just a smidge of news from someone who means a lot in my life.

Tears welled up in her eyes and snot dripped from her nose as she spoke. She sniffs and runs an arm over her face in an attempt to clean her face.

Zoro’s eye softens and he stands in front of the now crying navigator.

Nami

I really, really miss everyone.

He opens his arms to her, and she runs into it, giving him a tight embrace. The swordsman returns her affection shyly with a hug of his own.

Nami

Zoro, we just want to be there for you.

Zoro

I know….

Nami

But you have to let us in, alright? Otherwise…

Nami pulls away to look up to him, gripping onto his arms.

Nami

Otherwise…we don’t know if you’re okay.

Zoro quietly nods.

—

The family that were freed from the Celestial Dragons are enjoying their newfound freedom. The merchild had taken to swimming laps around the entire perimeter of Duval's base while the adults celebrated with the gang for hours on end, and doing absolutely anything they can think of “just because they can,” as one of them would say. Such things included eating food any time they wanted, sunbathing, running around wild, singing out loud and wearing the gang’s leather jackets for fun–anything and everything that they can think of they do happily–their future looking as bright as the sun above them.

Man 1

A–are you sure you want us in Weatheria?! We really don’t want to impose…everyone’s done so much for us already!

Nami

Don’t worry about it–you and your family are welcome to stay for as long as you like! We’ve got plenty of space up there and there are no Marines to catch you. It moves as fast as a den-den mushi but we go to different parts of the world collecting data about the weather. Maybe one day you can find a more permanent home but that’s really up to you.

Woman 1

Up to…us?

Nami

Yeah! It’s your life!

Nami turns her heel and waves behind her, walking away to join the swordsman who is currently fishing by a nearby pier.

Man 1

Did you hear that, junior? We can do whatever we want, and go wherever we want!

Merchild

REALLY?! Thank you, kind lady!!

The merchild jumps around happily, clapping to himself. He proceeds to swim all the way around the base for the twentieth time, spouting long streams of water from his lips as he goes–simply because he can.

Nami joins the unhappy looking swordsman who’s grown impatient from the lack of bites from his fishing line.

Zoro

“Kind” is a bit generous.

The navigator’s temper snaps. She delivers a strong kick to Zoro’s back, sending him flying into the horizon.

—

That afternoon, when Zoro had gone and changed into fresh dry clothes, he made his way to the infirmary and knocked on the door as soon as he was told that he could visit Sanji.

Law

Come in.

The swordsman quietly lets himself in, the cool air-conditioned room is a welcome sensation on his sunburnt face.

Law

Oh good, it’s the other one who doesn’t follow my plans.

Law scribbles angry notes onto a clipboard and hangs it on a nearby wall. His face is looking a lot more grumpier and sleep-deprived than usual, which makes sense given that he was up all night performing surgery. The swordsman isn’t even sure if he’s slept or eaten yet.

Zoro closes the door behind him. He puts his hands in his pockets as he approaches, looking at the sleeping blonde tucked comfortably in the infirmary bed. He felt relieved to see that Nami had used her cat burglar skills to pick the slave collar off him earlier. It was an ugly sight and he was glad to have rid of them. In place of it are bandages around his neck, proof that Law had already tended to the wounds.

As Zoro stares at the sleeping patient, the doctor frowns at him for wearing Bepo’s oversized outfit but chooses not to say anything about it. Instead, he stays on topic about his first point.

Law

You lot always do whatever the hell you want. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought that the Pirate King was a Straw Hat.

Zoro

Shut up. It’s not the end of the world, okay? Nami’s here, and we got the funds to pay her for the map.

Law

Great, but we still have to find a bubble ship, unless you know a way to make my ship fly. The only capable shipwrights that I know of who specialise in modifying submarines or making bubble ships are in Sabaody Archipelago.

Zoro crosses his arms and gives him an unimpressed face in return.

Zoro

You know the scientists in Weatheria practically invented bubble ships, right?

Law raises an eyebrow, intrigued at the idea.

Zoro

It’s smaller and probably can’t carry everyone you wanted…but it flies. If you play your cards right and you’re nice, maybe the Pirate King will give you more of his money to buy it off our navigator.

Zoro pulls out Sanji's bag from under his sleeve and shakes it in front of Law's face. Its contents jiggled with sound.

Law’s eye twitches at the bag, and at Zoro’s attitude towards him.

Law

I just saved his ass!

And since when do you care so much about him? He gave you everything he got, didn’t he? Given how much you wanted him dead, what’s stopping you from just leaving him behind right here and now?

With an impassive look on his face, Zoro returns the bag in his sleeve, pulls up a chair and sits by Sanji’s side. Calmly, he replies.

Zoro

Would you?

Law crosses his arms and looks away, thinking carefully, as if weighing his options whether or not to also ditch the swordsman who’s apparently now taken the Pirate King’s side–literally and figuratively.

Law

No.

Zoro

Because you and I know that we’re better than this…

The swordsman reaches out to hold Sanji’s hand in his, gently stroking his knuckles with his thumb.

Zoro

And he needs to see that the world isn’t such a cruel place.

The doctor stays quiet, now looking at Zoro and Sanji’s entwined hands. After a few moments, he decides to give them privacy and walks towards the door.

Zoro

Hey, Traffy…

Law stops but doesn’t turn to face his way.

Zoro

Thanks….

We’ll find Corazon. I swear to you.

Law hides a smirk on his face and continues to move to the door.

Law

I know we will.

—

Zoro didn’t want to part with Nami so quickly, but he knew that the longer they stayed at Duval’s base, the more they put the people around them in danger. Law agreed with him, stating that they need to leave quickly before they leave too much evidence of their visit behind.

They purchased the map and the bubble ship from Nami as planned, giving her a single condensed Seastone that Sanji acquired. The swordsman wasn’t actually sure if the bubble ship was hers to give away, but nevertheless they finally have what they need to travel to Skypiea.

She had also given Bepo a work-in-progress copy of the Grand Line map with a very clear disclaimer stating that it’s incomplete so they may find islands that aren’t drawn on that she isn't aware of. When asked why she gave it for free, she looked at the swordsman and secretly told him that it’s a reward for opening up about his personal life. In truth, Zoro knew that her heart was too big for that, and that she’d give him anything if she thought he needed it.

Duval generously offered to escort Nami and the liberated family to Weatheria with his entire gang on their flying fish mounts to ensure their safe travel. He didn’t ask for much in return but he approached Law to see if he could give him a facelift so he could look just as “handsome” as the Pirate King. Zoro cringed at the idea, but the man was insistent that he wants the same popularity as Sanji did when he saw him in the video feed during the game show at Sabaody Archipelago. Naturally, the doctor refused until Duval begged him for the umpteenth time so Law had to say yes in the end just to shut the man up. Now, Duval looks like an extra “handsome” version of the Pirate King, but much taller.

It’s been three days since they set sail and Sanji still hadn’t woken up from his sleep after his big surgery. Law reports that it’s not because of the wounds inflicted on him but rather the serum that they detected in his blood. It was a type of drug that’s designed to keep the victim in a helpless state for several days. The fact that the blonde was awake for hours after receiving it would have taken a strong constitution on his part. They had flushed it out of his system successfully but his body still needs time to recover naturally. The whole idea of him potentially being in the hands of the Celestial Dragon in that state just makes the swordsman want to turn the ship around to give the World Noble a piece of his mind, and maybe shove one of his blades down his throat while he's at it.

Zoro felt particularly protective so he’d been spending most of his time keeping the blonde company in the infirmary instead of staying more comfortably in their bunk room. He’s been kindly lent a futon to be set up in the corner of the room whenever he needs it. Unsurprisingly, other Heart Pirates have also come to visit Sanji at least once a day not just to check in on their patient, but also to hang out, trying to be supportive of Zoro and hoping to be there the very moment Sanji wakes up. The swordsman welcomed their company lest he spirals too deep into his own mind which he’s been trying to avoid recently.

Shachi

I reckon he did all that just so he can skip out of doing chores, the lazy fuck.

The others laughed at the snide comment as they played a round of cards between themselves on the floor. They figured that now is the best time to make fun of the blonde, in front of his own face, without worry of any retort.

Penguin

How do you like your new outfit, Mr. Bushido?

Zoro looks down, admiring the orange boiler suit that is now tailored exactly to his size. Over one side of his chest, they embossed the Straw Hat jolly roger on with the Heart Pirate’s one just underneath it, especially made just for him.

Zoro

It’s fine, thanks. It’s great, actually. Luffy would love it too.

Bepo

You properly look like one of us now! It’s a good colour!

Sanji

The Marimo…turned into a giant carrot.

Everyone in the room poke their head up from the floor to look at the blonde on the bed.

Sanji gives the crowd a warm smile and a weak wave.

Heart Pirates

CHORE BOY!!!

They immediately surround Sanji, giving him hugs, pats on the head and cheerful greetings.

Zoro stood behind them, watching the group finally celebrate his return and recovery. He can’t help but smile at the touching scene. The blonde makes eye contact with him and returns his grin with his own.

When the hype had gone down and they felt like they gave the blonde enough affection, the Heart Pirates wished Sanji well and returned to their duties to leave him to rest. Zoro closed the door behind them and turned to approach the bed.

Sanji

It's a shame that I didn't get to meet your nakama.

The blonde massages his neck where the heavy collar once was.

Sanji

I would have liked to have thanked her personally. It was like the heavens sent her.

Zoro lets out an unexpected hearty laugh, making Sanji jump.

Zoro

Sent from the hells, more like.

Sanji

Marimo! You talk about ladies that way?

Zoro

If you knew Nami, you would too.

Zoro gets a faceful of pillow thrown square at him.

—

Hours have passed since the Heart Pirates have left but Sanji can't seem to settle himself comfortably on the bed, his body feeling too sore to properly relax on the unfamiliar thin mattress under him. He gives up eventually and decides to watch the waves of the waters through the round window. He feels that familiar pull again, as if the ocean itself is beckoning him. It's a comfortable feeling that he's always sought after since reading about the All Blue when he was a child in that damp cell where his father kept him.

The repetitious calm waves eventually makes him drowsy, but he fights going back to sleep. He thinks, not just yet. He knew that he’d already missed out on precious days that he could have been spending being up and about, even with the limited space the Polar Tang offered. If he was being completely honest with himself, he’s also feeling scared and fragile–a feeling that hasn’t arisen until the recent encounter with the Celestial Dragon. He's afraid that if he falls asleep, he'd never wake up.

The bed sinks on one side. He turns his head to find that the swordsman had sat next to him, making him smile at the contact and the newfound comfort that the man seems to have with him. It was reassuring and warm to the heart but Sanji knew he’d have to stop whatever this is before he gets too emotionally attached to the man.

This isn’t supposed to happen. He’s planned to have the swordsman by his side as an asset as he does with Doflamingo–to instill fear where he needs it, and destruction where he wants it. The extra sex would have been beneficial as well.

He shouldn’t care about the swordsman. He wanted the challenge of turning someone worth their salt, someone who can keep up with him, someone who the Marines respected. He meant to strip him bare, break him slowly, confuse him, then use him. But now he can’t seem to get himself to do any of that.

Finding love wasn’t supposed to be on the table–or whatever it is that he’s feeling. He starts fearing for the things that might scare the swordsman if he learns too much about his life, and the heartbreak that will inevitably come if this gets too far.

Out of nowhere, Zoro reaches out and takes his hand in his. He gently lifts it to plant a light kiss on the back where an old scar is. The blonde’s eyes soften at the sight.

Sanji

Mellorine…

Zoro

You’re shaking. Have you gone for a nap?

Sanji

No… I couldn't.

The swordsman flips his hand and pecks an old burn mark on his wrist. He looks at Sanji in the eye then places his next kiss on his inner forearm where the burn spans. Slowly, he continued the trail of affection up his arm, then his shoulder, until he found the bandaged area of his neck, kissing over the material right in the middle where he very well knew an old scar is.

Sanji holds his breath as he feels Zoro’s tenderness in the area. The mark was from another slave collar that he tried to force off by hand when was younger, and he’d always associated it with nothing but pain. The swordsman's gentleness on it was a new sensation that made his heart practically flip.

He can’t help but stretch his neck to present himself, exposing his vulnerabilities and succumbing to the affection as the other man continues his barrage of kisses on different spots of his skin. His breath quickens. His face scrunches when he tries to resist the pleasure, only for his body to betray him and demand more.

Zoro pulls the blanket down with his teeth, revealing Sanji’s top half bare. He's fully unclothed aside from the wrappings around one side of his chest where he just had his surgery.

Zoro

This one, I know about….

Zoro kisses a scar on Sanji’s collarbone. He trails his lips down, finding his way on one of the blonde’s pecs, never removing his mouth off his skin.

Sanji

Mhmm…

Sanji wraps his arms around Zoro’s neck, spreading his legs to give him better access.

The swordsman takes the opportunity to mount the bed and hover over his figure with care.

Sanji

You gave me that one and…

Sanji pushes Zoro’s head further down where the swordsman finds an old stab wound on the side of his waist where he once pierced him with Wado.

The swordsman gives it a light smooch.

Zoro

Don’t forget this one….

Zoro tilts his head and gives an unexpected lick along a deep scar on the V of Sanji’s hips, making the blonde yelp in surprise.

Sanji can’t help but chuckle at the playfulness of it all, entangling his fingers into the man’s soft hair.

The swordsman starts dragging his hands up and down Sanji’s front to soothe him, all the while continuing to lick and peck the man’s skin wherever he can find old and new wounds. They stay like this for a while, with Zoro remembering each instance when he’d harmed the man and leaving him gentle kisses in his wake like a form of apology.

Sanji

Marimo…why are you doing this?

Zoro

Hmm….

Zoro starts using his tongue, dragging it down from the man's chest, following the line in the middle of his abdomen.

The blonde takes a sharp inhale, arching his back. He ignores the slight pain from his chest.

The swordsman, liking the reaction, shuffles himself under Sanji’s blanket and covers himself in it. He continues his onslaught of kisses closer to Sanji’s core, out of sight between the man’s legs.

Sanji

Fuuuuck…

Sanji jerks his hips in the air involuntarily, trying to get any sort of friction.

Zoro

You were saying something?

Sanji

I… I forget.

Sanji’s mind has gone blank and can no longer see what Zoro’s doing. Everything became about touch alone. He could feel the swordsman’s rough hands glide over his hips and legs, comforting him. He remembers pain from the bite marks that the Celestial Dragon had bestowed on him. But now, in its place, the swordsman took his time to lightly kiss the area in his inner thigh as an attempt to make him forget by replacing the hurt with his own affections.

Sanji

Z–Zoro… I don’t know if I can get hard right now after…you know….

Zoro pokes his head out of the blanket to look at him eye to eye.

Zoro

That’s not what I’m doing this for.

Though…you do smell fuckin’ amazing down here.

Sanji winges.

Not wanting to torture the other man too much, the swordsman moves up, still dragging his lips over his skin. He leans his arms against the pillow, caging the blonde underneath him. He peppers his face with tender kisses–under the jaw, at the corner of his lips, the tip of his nose, and the spot between his brows. He repeats this on the other side. He feels the blonde release the breath he’d been holding, easing into his touch.

After a few moments, he feels pressure against his chest from Sanji trying to push him. The swordsman parts himself to look into his wide blue eyes. He looked pained.

Zoro

What's wrong?

Sanji

…I don't think I want to marry you anymore.

Zoro stops his movements abruptly. He pulls himself back to separate himself from the blonde. He sits back on his heels, his face looking confused and offended.

Sanji

Don’t take it the wrong way. It’s not that I don’t want to do this….

Sanji entwines his fingers around Zoro’s collar and pulls him back at his eye level. With his other hand, he brushes back stray strands of the swordsman’s hair that had gone awry on his forehead.

Sanji

I don’t want to marry you anymore because I want to do this right…. Whatever this is.

Zoro

Hmm…

Zoro eyes the blonde up and down, as if trying to gauge him and read his thoughts.

Zoro

Alright.

Sanji

Alright…?

Zoro

Yeah…I want to do this right too.

Whatever this is.

Sanji raises his eyebrows in surprise. He’s never been one to go exclusive and steady, but the swordsman didn’t explicitly say that. The one thing he knows for sure is that he wants Zoro in his life, in a very different way than he initially thought. Whatever plan that he had concocted for the man before had already gone down the drain ages ago, opening an opportunity for a fresh start. It’s not exactly the cleanest one, but it might be what he needs while he figures things out.

There is a knock on the door.

Zoro clumsily throws the blanket over Sanji’s head to cover his nakedness and readjusts himself back to a sitting position at the edge of the bed, trying to look as casual as he can.

Sanji sputters, pulling the blanket down from his face irritatingly, earning him a smirk from the swordsman.

Sanji

Hey!

There is another knock, this time, more urgent.

Sanji

It’s open!

Law opens the door slightly, just enough to poke his head in. He looks especially furious behind his polite tone.

Law

You have a guest, Mr. Prince-ya.

He steps inside and pushes the door wider. Behind him, a familiar man with long pointed blue hair and a dark cape around his shoulders ushers in. Sanji notices a particular iron helmet not being worn, but instead tucked under one of his arms, leaving his curled eyebrows exposed.

Zoro

Who’s this?

Sanji

Commander.

Commander 2

Your Highness. We lost track of him.

Sanji narrows his eyes, his expression instantly changing into something dire.

Sanji

Who, exactly?

Commander 2

The Warlord, Donquixote Doflamingo.

----------

Coloured to show that Sanji looks healthier when he's happy.

Also I really enjoyed drawing Zoro in Heart Pirates outfit!!

139 notes · View notes

multiplicity-positivity · 4 months ago

Text

Here’s some positivity for systems who have doubles!

Doubles, or introjects who share the same source individual, are a common occurrence in the plural community, and may be common within a single system! Most introjects are unable to choose their source, and there is nothing wrong with having multiple introjects of the same person, character, object, being, or concept in your own system. This post goes out to all the systems with doubles out there!

👯 Shoutout to those who feel like their doubles are their kin, siblings, twins, or family members!

⚔️ Shoutout to doubles who used to be at odds but are learning how to get along better!

🍃 Shoutout to those who are dating, married, or partnered to another double inside or outside their own system!

🎶 Shoutout to doubles who have varying source memories, and to doubles with no source memories at all!

🖇 Shoutout to doubles who advocate for solidarity and camaraderie amongst doubles in systems everywhere!

✨ Shoutout to those who have been called proshippers for dating fellow doubles, or who have had their relationship dubbed “selfcest” by others!

🐾 Shoutout to doubles who are incredibly different and share nothing but their source!

🍂 Shoutout to doubles who are together or individually trying to separate from their source for their own comfort and safety!

🪺 Shoutout to those who feel like they are doubles due to one member being a fictive and another being an introject of the person who created their source character!

💕 Shoutout to those who greatly enjoy being able to engage and connect with their doubles!

We hope every introject out there who has met or interacted with a double, inside or outside of their system, can have a wonderful day! There is absolutely nothing wrong with two headmates sharing the same source individual. You should feel welcome to live your lives in the ways that you choose, without feeling like your choices are being policed or dictated by others!

Doubles, not only are we wishing you ample agency and autonomy in your lives, but we are also wishing you happiness, comfort, and self-acceptance! Rest assured, you are wanted, you belong, your relationships are meaningful (yes, even if they are with other doubles!) and you are unique and special in your own ways. Please do your best to take care of yourselves and each other, and have a wonderful day!

#plurality #pluralgang #multiplicity #actuallyplural #plural positivity #system positivity #plural pride #system pride #introjects #fictives #factives #doubles

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aziraphales-library · 2 months ago

Note

Hey there! Do you have any refs for fics involving a road trip (extra points if its aziracrow as Angel/demon and not an au altho aus are lovely too!!)

Hi! We have some road trip fics here, and I've got more now...

leave you faithless by midnightbotany (T)

As Aziraphale struggles with the demands of his new role as Supreme Archangel, a heartbroken Crowley embarks on a journey around the world hoping to stop Armageddon. Again.

Where The Furniture Used To Be by Magpie_BKK (T)

The Bentley has mysteriously brought Crowley back to central London, just as an old friend turns up at the bookshop. But not everything is as it appears, and Crowley finds himself on the run with an amnesiac angel, trying to unlock his memories along the way.

The Lost Apostle by miraworos (G)

After a long hiatus, Crowley badgers Aziraphale to go on a road trip with him. But it's more a quest than a road trip, and both Crowley and Aziraphale may be getting into more than they bargained for. Bentley POV.

Waterfall by duustbunny (E)

Two years after Aziraphale accepts the Metatron’s offer, Crowley is captured as he attempts to infiltrate Heaven and Aziraphale is tasked with executing public punishment. Instead, he lets the demon lead him on a quest to recover a lost item that can help them stop the end of the world once more. Because Heaven is not the boss of him anymore, and preventing the Apocalypse will never stop being his and Crowley’s job.

The Journey by ElderlySardine (M)

“Anthony J Crowley… Mayfair, London… Next of kin: Mr A Z Fell…” Crowley nodded. It wasn’t as if he had anyone else. “Emergency contact: also Mr Fell…” Crowley had almost stopped listening. “Relationship to applicant: husband…” “Husband?!” Crowley and Mrs Lowry spoke together as one, for the first and almost certainly the last time in their lives. “Husband.” Crowley recovered first, and fixed Mrs Lowry with a hard stare into which he infused just a little bit of demonic energy. “Is that a problem?” It was a problem. It was Aziraphale's harebrained plan, and it was clearly doomed to failure, as well as embarrassment and ignominy. But since when had Crowley been able to say no to the angel? It was only two weeks, and 3,850 miles. It couldn't be that hard, could it?

hurry back, please bring it back home to me by Percyjacksonfan3 (T)

“Why should I?” The demon interrupts cuttingly. “You’ve made it perfectly clear where your priorities lie and anything I say won’t make a bit of difference.” “That’s not true at all.” Aziraphale replies after a long hurt moment. “And you know it. Besides, you’re being stubborn. You’ll help me eventually.” Rage flashes over Crowley’s face. “You think so, do you?” Aziraphale juts his chin up stubbornly, ignoring the unpleasant feelings Crowley’s expression stirs in him. “Yes.” Aziraphale needs Crowley's help in saving humanity from the Second Coming and despite what happened between them he's determined to get it. After all, it's not only that he needs Crowley, but his plan also includes their car. As for the other matters between the two of them... well there's no reason those can't be sorted out along the way as well, is there? Or, a possible take on Series 3 that includes the Bentley, a resurrected Jesus Christ set on bringing about the End of Days, and an angel and a demon who are stupidly in love with each other but are both suffering from a lack of experience on how to actually deal with said emotions. Emphasis on the stupidly.

- Mod D

#good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #road trip #mod d

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quackity1999 · 3 months ago

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# — THE MAILBOX is open for business.

i take care of those who take care of me. why do you think i have no one around?

jesus, put two and two together.

this is a c!quackity ask blog :]

SEND ASKS! feel free to pester c!quackity thru asks— general questions, LN reports, dsmp lore refs, tomfoolery and such are encouraged.

i HEAVILY support spamming the inbox.

happy to answer both anons + characters (dsmp, ocs, multiverse: film, musicals, videogames, etc). if ur a reoccurring anon then grab an emoji !

#quackitychirps indicates quackity replies. #charlieposting indicates slime replies.

[ TAG SYSTEM: HERE ! pls check it out. ]

↓ IMPORTANT INFO UNDER CUT. ↓

[ hiii. i'm prophet! he/it/rez prns. biggest cquackity kin known to mankind. yes i am australian 😎😎 ]

rules: literally fucking none. go ham!!!!!!! just please no godmodding. i'll delete anything that goes too far. 18+ mentions are fine — i'll tag accordingly, but it won't be the main focus. sooo have fun go crazy ( admin is 21. keep that in mind thanks )

this blog functions on dialogue instead of written out paragraphs of literature.

IMPORTANT: i don't write any literate rp ( eg; *character sits down and does a thingy* etc etc ) unless it's preplanned in dms for an event. if i am sent starters or asks with literate rp they'll most likely be deleted.

sometimes i throw in a bit of action in brackets, but this is an ask blog first and foremost so i focus on dialogue to communicate action / location / etc.

and in order to keep my blog tidy i don't respond to reblog replies. threads tend to get real lengthy + clutter up things. so— please send another ask instead of reblogging with a reply :) thank you for understanding!

there will be occasional nsfw topics. anything indirect or at the very least suggestive goes into #vaguely 18+. anything explicit will be tagged with 18+ mention. proceed with discretion.

details about quackity :

+ las nevadas era, mainly. if there's specific asks that require a response from vice pres quackity or manburg era q, i can adjust to that: #viceqchirps !

+ he's an avian hybrid! he nests often (usually within an amethyst geode). quackity has a history of being mocked for his instincts and avian attributes, much thanks to a certain ex-husband :/

+ this bitch loves a good debate. motherfucker is a lawyer (sorta) so hit him up with a challenge every now and then. give him fun facts. Threaten him. ask whats going on in his life! throw in curveballs.

[ his chat / asks often show up as pop-up ads. ]

+ my portrayal is canon aligned! las nevadas is important as hell to him, so here's a post that explains in-character how quackity runs LN: HERE. so. yeah, we do business around here. and also torture dream for the revival book but that's not important /silly

+ on that note, i would prefer to avoid interaction with positive/good depictions of c!schlatt for this blog. no disrespect to those who do prefer that, i just personally want to uphold the importance of how schlatt's abuse informed a Lot of character development for quackity. same goes for dream— he's a villain, not a kicked puppy. thank you!

+ i violently swerve between serious interactions and utter hysteria in my replies to asks. its like a fucking lucky dip here 😎 also soz for all the links but it Does make it easier

+ shipping isn't a goal here, so attempts to woo quackity will not end in a romance plot. ofc there'll be some flirting, especially w / canon characters he's had past relations with (schlatt, wilbur, eret, karl, sapnap). i hc he's had a fling with technoblade at least once LMAO. note: apologies to dapduo shippers but they're strictly friends in my portrayal for a reason. :]

+ during las nevadas he has fortnightly gatherings with foolish. he wouldn't fuck a citizen, but he'd fuck a coworker! morals, what're those again?

overall i'm not looking to write romance plots due to c!quackity's view of love during the LN era. (he despises it.)

all anons welcome!!! ADMIN IS 21.

for art references:

my dude's got big big wings such as the first two. no other wings anywhere else though! white / blind in the eye that’s scarred. he got gold fangs to replace his upper canines; to replace the actual missing tooth from techno’s axe but also for congruence. it's also a mockery: piglins love gold.

PLENTY of gold jewelry. quackity focuses so much on his appearance, so— earrings! a brass knuckle made from the rings of schlatt, karl & sapnap. he will never use his own feathers for decoration, though. he's got some necklaces, ofc, no piercings. maaybe an eyebrow piercing but idk . debatable

usually wears a white silk shirt, regular suspenders, black pinstriped pants / slacks, deep red tie with gold intricate detailing & a gold clasp to keep it together in the middle. a fancy pocketwatch with the las nevadas star engraved on the front. his blue or puma beanie obvs! shoes are either dark red (near black) snakeskin or italian leather. steel toed for dropkicking drea—

[ PAST EVENTS: AVIAN PINNED. ]

#ooc: the prophet talks #delegation — LN TEXTBOOK.#ask blog #quackitychirps #charlieposting #rb encouraged!!!#askblog #quackity #c!quackity #dsmpblr #dsmp rp #dream smp #mcytblr #mcyt #roleplay #slimecicle

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mybrothercainmybrotherabel · 3 months ago

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TDAAC timepool AU part 2

@moonmeg

“Are ye out of yer mind?!” Micah demanded. Robyn started heading for his grandparents house, Micah grabbed his arm.

“Let go, Mikey!”

“What are ye even plannin’?” Micah demanded, “Ye don't even ken the full story of what happened that day. Are ye just gonna go up to ye da's brother and say, ‘Please don't murder yer kin’?”

Robyn clenched his fists. “I could scare him off, or…”

“Or what?” Micah demanded, Robyn looked down, his fists were shaking, “Kill him?”

“He'd deserve it! He's a murderer!”

“But yer not!”

Tears were forming in Robyn's eyes. “Killing him could save my father.”

“If he is the murderer, what if he isn't?”

“If he isn't then why did my mom never tell me I had an uncle?”

“I dinna ken, but even if he is the murderer, could ye really take a life?”

Micah took Robyn's face and forced him to meet his eye, his big golden eyes were pleading. Deep down he knew his boyfriend was right. He knew but…he hated it…he felt tears well up in his eyes unbidden. Anger subsided as grief overwhelmed him.

“I want to know him so bad, Mikey…”

“I ken…”

“It's not fair…”

Micah wrapped his arms around Robyn and pulled him close. Robyn buried his face into Micah's shoulder.

“Let's go to the Lunaris festival.” Micah said.

“I thought you said…”

“Ye shouldn't warn him? Aye. And I stand by that. Ye canna go changin’ the past. But ye should meet yer father, at least once.”

Robyn wiped his eyes and smiled at Micah. They took each other's hands and walked to town square where people were putting up decorations. They spotted Caleb struggling to put up a banner without magic. Robyn looked at Micah who gave a small, encouraging smile. Mustering up his courage, Robyn ran over.

“Here, let me help with that!” He volunteered, running over to hold up the other side of the banner.

“Thank you.” Caleb said. They finished hanging the banner and Caleb smiled at him. Robyn's mind started racing, his whole life he wanted to meet his father, but now that the moment was here, what could he say?

“Is this your first Lunaris festival?” Robyn finally blurted out.

Caleb laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Is it that obvious?”

“No, just…you don't look like you're from around here, that's all…”

“Admittedly, where I'm from we don't have festivals quite like this.”

“Hey, Blondie,” Catherine called, she ran over to them and took Caleb’s hand. “Dance with me!”

“Oh…I don't dance…”

Catherine smiled, “You do tonight, come on!”

Caleb shot Robyn a resigned look. “I better go. Thanks again for the help. Enjoy the festival.”

“Yeah…” Robyn managed to say as his mother pulled Caleb onto the dance floor. He stood watching them as Micah came up behind him and took his hand.

“They both look so happy together.” Micah commented as the young couple fell in step together. Robyn wasn't sure if he had ever seen his mother look so happy or carefree.

“They really loved each other…” Robyn said. Micah squeezed Robyn's hand. Robyn took a breath and wiped his eyes. “Come on, let's go. Viv is probably starting to worry.”

“Aye.”

Hand in hand the two boys turned their backs on the past and headed back home.

#moonmeg #caleb wittebane #the owl house #toh #Tdaac

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firstfullmoon · 2 years ago

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When you find your people you’ll still look over your shoulder sometimes to see if you’re being followed. You’re hoping one or two people you don’t know will want to see where you’re going. When you find your people they won’t ask you where you came from because they’ll already know & if they don’t they’ll be busy putting good food on your plate & asking you if you’re hungry or broke. When you find your people they’ll tell you to use any bathroom you want, marry anybody you want, work side-by-side for long hours with full wages without any fear of being harmed. When you find your people they’ll throw their star to you, offer you their love song & say you need to listen to this dance & shine with us whether or not you know all the steps. When you find your people they’ll say Do You Remember & you’ll say Yes until you remember together the different ways the whole thing happened. When you find your people they’ll say wear whatever you want, wear the tightest dress, wear your hot pants, your fishnets, your damn birthday suit. They’ll say we love your black skin & drag & fat & natural hair & we love you from your roots so please just live & don’t let anybody kill you or tell you they’ve killed you & you’re just fine the dead way you are. When you find your people don’t leave them & don’t let them off the hook when they are in the wrong. When they are trying to take themselves out of the world lay your hands on them & call them yours & yours & yours. When you find your people be sure you’ve been preparing your difficult heart by loving yourself, & what you pretend you don’t know you actually do, so that when you see your kin smiling into your eyes, the soft or tough flags of their hands covering yours in a truth so light & fierce, you see you all have been midair for some time, & could go higher, & burn some shit up, if you remembered what else is good, everywhere & everywhere you look.

— Rachel Eliza Griffiths, “Chosen Family,” in Seeing the Body

#w #poetry #rachel eliza griffiths #ode to friendship

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trancylovecraft · 1 year ago

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Um hello, could you write some relationship headcanons for Lucifer from Blue Exorcist with a half human/ half angel s/o? If that’s alright with you, please and thank you. I liked your recent Blue Exorcist headcanons and I’m also excited for season 3!

(BLUE EXORCIST) YANDERE LUCIFER x HALF-ANGEL! READER: Headcannons

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

• Thank you SO much for requesting aoex lucifer like OMG we need more yandere fics of him (and aoex) and I'm willing to provide

• Since angels don’t exist in Aoex as a reference I’m gonna use the stereotypical angel as a guide.

• This takes place following my other headcannons of him once he finally captures you.

• As soon as he does he notices something off about you. A lump in the back of your clothing that seemed to twitch or the way your wounds bled golden.

• Firstly he’d be absolutely stunned. Angels exist? Ridiculous! Yet as he sees your unconscious form, Wings splayed out and all there was no denying it.

• He’d totally be into it though. Lucifer views himself as perfection and you being such a holy and pure being just matches him perfectly.

• Even though you are only half, Though.

• He has a lot of questions about your heritage. Which one of your parents are an angel? Have you met them? Do archangels exist too? Are one of them your parent?

• He asks these questions in such a monotone voice yet he’s really intrigued by who sired you.

• Lucifer also asks about heaven, if you’ve been there and If there really is one and there is a god

• He asks about your wings too. Lucifer thinks they’re absolutely divine and asks (Near pleadingly) to touch them. To which you back away in aversion until his guards bring you forth, He doesn’t care whether you say yes or no. You’re his so he can caress your wings all he wants.

• Unironically calls you “My Angel” with a straight face.

• When your forced to sleep in the same bed as him he constantly strokes the feathers of your wings, Finding comfort in them.

• Will be testing your blood for any healing properties for his elixr’s. If you do then there is absolutely no way you’re getting out of this place.

• You move to a bigger room so you have more space for your wings.

• The clothing he gets for you will be much more ‘Angelic’ with mostly whites and pastels. Its all for his delusion of divinity with you, Even if you are only half.

• Youll live longer because of your blood. Lucifer is glad about that because it gives him more time to find a way to make you immortal alongside him.

• Homare now goes to bird care classes on her time off.

• Lucifer, When he has a good body, Likes to take you around museums (Which he rents out so you two are alone) and gets you to explain what happened in the religious sections.

• Even if you have no clue since you’re half human and weren’t born around that time, He’ll believe any gibberish you make up and listen with interest.

• Even though he is a demon, He does view himself as more of an angel so he doesn’t see any issue when you say you cant be together due to your conflicting sides. (And that he kidnapped you and touches your wings without consent, But he wasn’t really listening to that part)

• If you ever try to escape him by flying off he will catch you. Both his siblings, Their kin and the Illuminati will have no problem tracking you down.

• The worst part is when you kneel before him after being recaptured, Surrounded by the entire Illuminati as he softly threatens to clip your wings if you do it again.

• Afterwards you now wear leg weights to make it more difficult. While he would definitely clip your wings he wants to keep them in perfect condition, So you’re safe another day.

• Good luck trying to cry for your angelic parent when you’re locked in a angelically warded room!

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5five5five5five5five5five · 4 months ago

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am i aware that Five and viktor rarely get along, always butt heads and are the end and beginning of their own destruction, the apocalypse and the survivor? am i aware that time and isolation on both ends changed them as people and that they have real no connection anymore and always seem to be going in opposite directions, both in the plot and physically? am i aware that their bond as kids was most likely due to them being isolated from the group, both due to their fathers actions and five's ego to where the other siblings found him hard to be around. am i aware that them not being close might actually be healthy for them in the long term? and that now that viktor isn't being PHYSICALLY SEDATED that its harder for them to be the same person they were as a child? and maybe the bond wasn't as wholesome as we all think and five was just as much an asshole and controlling as he is in the show but before, viktor didn't care and had very little say in much and was just glad that someone wanted to hang out with him? yes. yes i do.

Do i still think if they tried and became roommates that they would realize they are both still like musicals together, want to touch glass and see big balls of twine together, drink and that if they just talked and there wasn't a appending DOOM every god dam minute, they can bond like PEOPLE and not like APPOSING SIDES? yes. like the only reason they continuously butt heads is that five thinks he knows it all, wants to rush everyone out and viktor wants to do what he feels is right witch is never logical to Five or the team as a whole. and its always, even at the START was bc of the apocalypse, the dooms day, the kugelblitz etc. they rarely, if ever besides maybe the wedding, had a talk that doesn't have heavy shit surrounding them.

just let them be happy. i think if they just got high and had floor time together and stared at the ceiling, they could rekindle something. or maybe i just love viktor and kin five and just want them to be cool roommates....but EVERY TIME its like- me, a apathetic person when my kin is apathetic: GASP.

Five needs to stop. just once. please. let viktor talk.

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #tua #viktor hargreeves

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kottkrig · 1 year ago

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To Embrace The Shadow: Absolution (End)

Lucretia is faced with her own mistakes and what the consequences might be if she forgets why they call her the Shadow Mother.

World of Warcraft | Original Characters

Found Family

“Can you come home now?”

Zala looked up from Lucretia’s arms with misty eyes. The elf often asked to be held without any fear of her mentor's sobering presence.

“Yes, of course. I will not abandon my people, and I owe you three a lot for securing my recovery ahead of time…” Lucretia faced her anticipating audience. The men were reaching out as if she might slip away again, but they were too modest to ignore decorum as quickly as their Sister.

“First of all, you deserve an apology.”

Letting Zala go, she floated back as much as she could in their modest space. She took off her miter, which was constructed from nothing but pure energy, as was the rest of her; the Shadow Mother was the wraith of a mortality left behind. The vessel she mantled was the one her people knew best, and she let it appear largely as cadaverous as she was before her ascension. She refused to be ashamed of her undeath, which she never chose for herself. Failing her kin, however, was a result of her choices.

The trio watched as she apologized for her arrogance, for taking their loyalty for granted. She was sorry for seeing herself as above consulting them about her plans, and just expecting them to comply. Her overconfidence put them all in danger and left them to clean up her mess.

The prestige tied to her name was earned, but she was not invincible, and she was the most responsible for reminding them that neither were they.

“My greatest joy would be for you to one day walk your own ways, but I cannot let you go with the presumption that any of us are untouchable. It would violate our third and most difficult tenet, and in turn, undo the others. All three must work together.”

They stared at her in stunned silence. It certainly confirmed her arrogance.

“But I have shackled your growth, and you have every right to be disappointed with me.”

Zala was quick to accept her apology. Lucretia had a hunch that she was just exhilarated with their reunion, as their bond sometimes leaned on the familial side over simply teacher and student. It wasn’t Lucretia’s intention for Zala to become so attached that it might hurt her autonomy, and they would have to work on that. Lafayette was similar, albeit more guarded with his opinion. It was likely that he followed Zala’s initiative, as he often did choose to go with the flow and submit to a more assurant personality. Only when the following silence got too tense for him did he seem to add his own input.

“You couldn’t predict that this would happen. But maybe… maybe we should have talked more beforehand. We could have helped you prepare better.”

Lucretia agreed with him and was pleased to hear him speak his mind. She then faced Cletus and found him avoiding her gaze. She had supervised him the longest, with promises of prestige dangling in front of him–which she knew he would eventually achieve–but she had held him back for years. Perhaps she feared for his safety, or perhaps she savored having such loyal acolytes at her beck and call, but loyalty was unwise without mutual trust. It might have dawned upon him and made him hesitant. She could not blame him.

They didn’t need to forgive her, and she was hoping that they would take their time with their final decision. Receiving her humility was what they deserved. As for herself, she could handle any heat coming her way from the cult. Uppity Dark Clerics who thought she got her comeuppance were insignificant when she had the honor of seeing her students flourish together.

Things eventually started returning to relative normalcy, but Lucretia had to rethink her approach as a teacher. She decided to bring the trio aside, one at a time, and offer to loosen her grip on them. If they were to grow further, they needed to be challenged, and she could use her privileged position to advance theirs.

Lafayette’s anxiety held him back from progressing any faster than at a sloth’s pace, and Lucretia knew that she contributed to his sheltering. The living and the dead could walk all over him, and he would take it in silence instead of standing his ground. His success in reclaiming control of his sight tasted of the respect that he longed for. It was going to be a lifelong journey to challenge his fears, and he would be facing setbacks, but such were the trials they all faced as early as learning their first tenet. He often settled among the cult’s archives, where anyone who needed something had to consult an archivist. If he was taught on how to manage their texts, others were wise to respect someone who held onto occult knowledge.

Zala rambled on about a dozen things on her wishlist, but it wasn’t quite material things that Lucretia had in mind. They could revisit that matter at another time, so the two concluded that her role in preserving their grounds should broaden beyond menial labor and patrols in Deathknell. She had proven that she could plan for and journey into the unknown, and then return safely on her own. An elven ranger was exceptional for sweeping across the wilds with her silvan knowledge, and even someplace as haunted as Lordaeron needed care to maintain balance. It was her home, and she should be free to explore and nurture it. Lucretia urged her to be vigilant as the eyes of the Forgotten Shadow, and Zala eagerly swore to honor the trust put in her.

Cletus’s relationship with her had become tense. He fought harder than he should have for their sake, and was facing burnout as his only reward if he was just going back to being her eternal promising student. For one who had come so far, she still hadn’t ordained him. They both knew that his weak point was vainglory, and while power was what they all sought, every cultist had to constantly measure their capacity for it. Even the most successful of Dark Clerics weren't above remembering the tenets, or they risked falling like she had done. Cletus could charm his way forward all he wanted, but it meant nothing if he wouldn’t practice what he had been preaching in this time. Whenever he felt certain about it, Lucretia promised to be there to avow his commitment, and bow back at him as an equal.

She was self-aware enough to recognize her worries about letting go of control, knowing what it might cost a Shadow priest to be careless. She was proof herself of what rigid discipline could accomplish, but her students would never be able to breathe if they couldn’t reach above the surface. All four of them were left with scars reminding them of their trials, that they saw it through, and that there would be more trials to come. They would continue to face failure, prejudice, hatred and devastating loss, and she couldn’t always be there to protect them. What she could do was teach them how to protect themselves, and each other, until they were ready to walk their own ways. Their paths were not for her to decide for them, when such was not the will of the Forsaken.

It was challenging to adapt and persist through difficult times, and there may be endless time for any Forsaken to lead. But they were a stubborn people, and when those who reviled them as abominations kicked them down, they crawled back up and spat in the faces of their oppressors. The Cult of Forgotten Shadows sought to enhance what it meant to be Forsaken, and when to be Forsaken meant spiteful survival, they embraced the shadow that had been cast over them.

#the REAL final boss of this campaign: a codependent relationship #also yaaaaay we're done #this is the longest thing i've written as a newish writer thank u for the feedback everyone ily💜💜💜#to embrace the shadow #character: lucretia #character: lafayette #character: zala #character: cletus #kott writes

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mrs-monaghan · 2 years ago

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well, i see that your blog is cock friendly, and even tho its a jikook blog, there is something that i think we should adress (i'm not saying that this could be a reason for jk's crush, im not saying it could not), but...

Namjoon's cock!!!!! I suare, if everything in that body is proporcional, you know, i mean YOU KNOW he is fucking big!

Oh anon I really wish you hadn't gone there.

Now we must talk about JK and his anti Minimoni agenda. We now need to delve into this and get to the root of the issue. We must!

Jimin's hand on RM's lap.

JK: 👀

Love it. Okay let's take a look at some photos, shall we? Jimin's type.

Oh wait, before we proceed, JK's crush on RM i have never thought of it as an actual true crush. I think its played of as such for laughs. But I think JK just really admired him for his talents and what not and I don't think JK is attracted to RM in the slightest. Not even a little bit. Imo.

Now back to Jimin's type. 😁

Number 1) Wonho

Number 2) Black interviewer

Number 3) Usher

Number 4) JB who is basically JK's doppelganger in some of his photos 😅

Number 5) Gonna casually drop Tony

And last but not least Number 6) The main topic:

Jimin has a type. Okay? He likes them muscles and them thick men and them hot men and them arms and chests...and thighs... anyway, Mimi has a type. And while none of the men above hold a candle to his actual boyfriend, you can see the similarities.

Jungtiddies. Check

Thighs. Check

Arms. Check

The whole damn body. Check

Where I'm I going with this you ask? In short what I'm trying to say is, RM is Jimin's type. My friends and I disected this the other day and concluded the JK Minimoni thing probably has something to do with the fact that RM is Jimin's type to a T. JK looks at RM and sees himself. And then add the fact that RM is a genius and JK's insecurity goes through the roof!

(And like anon mentioned, JK has that Jungkonda, yes but on this post I also share what RM is working with so.... like I said. JK & RM, same thing basically 😂)

See, yeah, JK comes between Yoonmin and hates that Suga thirsts over his man. But, he is not threatened by short, skinny legged, with an ass almost as big as Jimin's, Min Yoongi. He knows Jimin will never see Suga that way. So he can dislike how Suga behaves with Jimin, but sometimes he even ignores it and doesn't look bothered at all. But when it comes to Minimoni he just has to insert himself. For eg, I saw something today.

Look at Jimin's face after JK adds in his 2 cents because of course he did

Minimoni moment, JK is like "not today Satan" He refuses for the audience to associate Jimin with RM and its the funniest shit. I mention here how JK inserted himself when Minimoni were practising the own it dance. Even though he wasn't really supposed to be there.

Disclaimer: The following opinions are my own, I will give them but please feel free to form your own

So listen. I will be the first person to tell people to stop treating the Tannies like characters in a fanfic. And I have mentioned many times that there has never been any in house dating (sans Jikook) That just wouldn't work and BTS wouldn't be together if that was the case. So please, please try not to read too much into the following tiny analysis. It's just something a friend pointed out to me and I couldn't believe it myself. It's short and quick, easy to miss. But it shows just how deep this thing with JK and Minimoni goes.

Okay so In the Soop season 2 episode 3 around 6 minutes in. (Thanks @serendipitous-sky)

Jin tells JK to go wake up either Jimin or V. Of course JK goes to wake up Jimin. Duh!

Sidebar, this isn't the point of my post, I just feel the need to point out that Jikook look at cameras ALOT. The whole time he climbed the stairs on the way to Jimin's room he was staring at that camera

If you guys remember correctly, Jimin was kind enough to switch rooms with RM the night before. RM couldn't sleep in the main house due to all the noise. So they swapped. But JK forgot this. So off he goes to what he thinks is still Jimin's room (he cheated/helped Jimin to get this room btw, but that's an analysis for another day) Anyway, back to JK looking for cameras.

If you're looking to mess around with your boyfriend and not get caught its important to find blind spots. So yes, Jikook are always making sure they know exactly where those cameras are. I'm sure y'all get it. 😏😏

Anyway, off he goes into the room and he's surprised to be greeted by RM's snores.

He forgot this wasn't Jimin's room anymore. But guys, here's my thing. JK is here, right? He has heard and seen that that is RM asleep in that bed, right? So you'd expect him to leave, right?

Wrong!! JK goes further into the room!

But why 🤭🤭🤭 that's my question. He had already established that was RM in the bed why did he need to go further into the room? What did he need to see? He literally has no reason to confirm it's RM in that bed when he already knows it is. So my guess is that he wanted to confirm RM was in that bed alone.

Now hear me out, even if Jimin was in that bed lying down fully clothed just shooting the shit with RM, it would not have gone down very well. At all. Shit, would have hit, the fucking fan!

We definitely wouldn't have go10 a season 2 of ITS or anymore BTS for that matter 🤭🤭 I'm just saying, for the sake of a million things, I'm glad RM was in there by himself.

JK as he's leaving says;

And off he goes to look for Jimin. We already know what happens after this. Nothing, coz we were robbed.

But anyway, conclusion: RM is the only one who actually threatens JK. And no this doesn't mean he doesn't trust Jimin. He knows Jimin would never but it doesn't stop him from wanting to make sure everyone most especially RM, remembers who Jimin 'belongs' to.

The End. Stan Namjikook for clear skin

#he he hee #jikook theory #jikook theories #jikook analysis #ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #bts #jimin and jungkook #jimin #jungkook #park jimin #jeon jungkook #kookmin #minkook #jikook bothered #ITS Jikook

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rippeanuts1950-2000 · 6 months ago

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more Grojband stuff because I like to think I’m funny even though I’m not.

Kin: Sometimes I get so focused on inventions that I forget that other people exist. On an unrelated note, Corey, Kon is now stuck on the roof of your garage.

Kon(from up above): It’s actually quite nice up here!

*****

Laney: Last week you and I saw Lenny and Carrie hanging out in park together and as soon they locked eyes, Carrie and you started barking at each other like dogs until we passed them. I still have no idea why this happened. Please explain so I can sleep at night.

Corey: It’s a dog eat dog world Lanes, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Laney: And that includes barking at each other in public?

Corey: Of course, it’s better than biting each other when we have to be around the other person.

Laney: You used to bite each other?!

Corey: Yes, but we were young at the time, and that was before the written contract.

Laney: The written contract? What is tha- Actually no, don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know.

*****

Kim: I’m currently competing with Kin over whose twin asks the most unhinged questions. I’m in the lead with Konnie recently asking me if it’s possible to throw Lenny across and amusement park and then following it up with, “Hey so Lenny is now on top of a merry go round. How should I try and get him down, by climbing the merry go round or jumping into a tree and whacking him off with a broom.” I told her to go with the latter in hopes to get more unhinged questions.

#grojband #laney penn #corey riffin #kim kagami #kin kujira #kon kujira #this is stupid I know #but i had fun #also the last one is a reference to a Grojband fanfic that is my favorite fic of the show #it’s called Grojband and the newmans shorts or something like that #It’s so good and really gives personality to the newmans #And the corney moments are so freaking cute and sweet and fluffy #anyway enough rambling #i just really love that fic

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bawdybooster · 9 months ago

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Interruptions

Ever since you were brought under Blaise’s payroll, you’ve found thoughts of the slimy fixer interrupting your work again and again. Still, it could be worse. He could actually be interrupting your investigations.

…

(3.7K Words)

It had been weeks since he’d started seeing you, and already you felt like he was becoming all you could think about.

Your song and dance with Blaise had become routine by this point. Every Friday, the slimy fixer would show up to ensure your silence. He’d bind you up in his slick, scarlet body as he checked in on you and your work, and when he was done combing through your files, he’d turn his full attention to you: Coating you with his pleasing slime, riling you up with sweet nothings in your ear, showing just how thorough he could be when he—

“Detective?”

You blinked, coming down from Cloud Nine and back to your dark office. Before you sat an old elf, tightly wound in his demeanor, his hair grayed with age and suit worn with experience. He had come to you in your office with little besides a cane, a newspaper, and a handbag full of cash. Beneath his thick, bushy brows sat a pair of beady green eyes, eyeing you with concern. “Are you… well, Detective?” He asked.

“Yes, Mister Hallows,” You said, pulling yourself back together, “You were just saying about the uh… the…”

“My son, Alaric, and his err… condition.”

“Of course,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, Sir, I’m just… how does your son’s ailment relate to the Break-In at your Store?”

“I want you to find them for me, Detective, so I can give them a piece of my mind!” Mister Hallows scowled. “These burglars break into my store, smash up the place, scare my only kin to shambles, and worse of all, they have the nerve to not steal anything from me? They didn’t even touch the register!”

You sighed, holding your head in exhaustion. “He’s your last client of the day,” You thought to yourself, “Send him on his way, then get ready for Blaise and you can forget this whole thing even happened.”

“Look, Mister Hallows,” you explained, “I understand your frustration, but I don’t think there’s anything I can work with here. Your son said he didn’t see or hear any of the burglars break in. It’s like the whole thing was done by… well… by phantoms.”

Mister Hallows perked up. “Could they be phantoms?”

“Phantoms don’t leave fur scattered about your store, Mister Hallows.”

“Maybe so,” Mister Hallows mused, “but these here phantoms… they could’ve possessed someone with fur so that they take the blame!”

As Mister Hallows rambled on about the fabrication of evidence by the souls of the hereafter, you felt a chill shiver down your spine. Your attention turned from the elderly elf to the front door to your building opening, its hallmark bell chime followed by a slimy, gurgling sound creeping towards your office. A slick, red figure appeared through the frosted glass of your office door.

Blaise was here, and he was here early.

“…and if we find ourselves an exorcist, Detective,” Mister Hallows finished, “I’m sure we can track down the specter behind this ordeal.”

You sprang forth from your seat as the doorknob turned, jumping past Mister Hallows to try and slam the door shut, though to no avail. An inch was all Blaise needed to squeeze his way into the room. He spilled through the air and landed directly into your desk chair. You turned around and found him eyeing you up, already formed again into his usual, handsome self.

“You’re early,” You gulped.

Blaise smirked, “And you need a vacation~”

“You. are. Early.” You hissed through gritted teeth, motioning to your client sitting in front of your desk.

The slime shrugged. “What can I say? I wanted to surprise you. I figured, what with how boring this afternoon’s been, I’d show up early and make tonight a bit longer for us both.” He gave a playful wink, slipping his tongue out between his lips and darting it forward. You flinched at the sight of it, thinking of how good it would feel in your mouth.

“Excuse me, Detective” came a voice. The two of you turned back to Mister Hallows, staring somewhat aghast at the great red figure sitting where you once were. “But… who is this, err… slime person?”

You gulped, realizing you hadn’t come up with a good explanation. You’d been fortunate enough that no one had spotted you and Blaise together before, but now things were out of hand. Blaise had placed himself with you in front of a client, one who was an elderly elf. And knowing elves, he wasn’t about to forget about this ordeal quickly, let alone keep it secret.

“This is…” You began, only for Blaise to interrupt you.

“Roy,” Blaise interrupted, “Roy Brooke. I’m a Consultant here our Detective Friend hired to help out with a case or two.” The slime extended a friendly handshake over to Mister Hallows, and you felt yourself shrivel inside as the old man firmly grasped the slime’s hand.

“Good.” Mister Hallows grinned. “Archibald Hallows. You can help us find this burglar specter of mine.” He returned his hand, sniffing the sweet touch that had been left in his hand. “Strawberries?”

“What can I say? I like to keep things sweet around here.”

“That’s wonderful, Roy,” you mused, stepping back to your desk, “But could you, perhaps, leave me to my client? We can ‘consult’ on our case later.”

You eyed the slime and that smug, self-assured look on his face. You loved the sight of him, but heavens above, he could be a handful.

…actually, it might be best not to think of ‘Blaise’ and ‘Handfuls’ at the moment.

“Oh?” The slime gave a feigned look of shock. “Surely I could be of use to you, Detective. I’m sure Mister Hallows here wouldn’t be against such an idea.”

Mister Hallows mused to himself. “I suppose there’s no harm in it.”

You rolled your eyes and stifled a sigh. “Alright, let’s get you up to speed.”

After coaxing Blaise out of your seat and into the empty chair next to Mister Hallows, you sat down together with the two gentlemen, recounting the story so far as you pour them each a cup of coffee.

“Monday morning,” you began thoughtfully, “Mister Hallows here leaves the Grand Metropolis to visit his younger brothers in the countryside. Before he leaves, he entrusts his son Alaric to watch over his shop and storefront until his return in two weeks' time.”

You hand a cup of coffee to Mister Hallows, who takes it and nods. “It was going to be a splendid time. It’d been so long since I’d had a chance to unwind with my family. I wanted to bring Alaric along, but…” he trailed off, murmuring to himself as he sipped on the hot drink.

“After three nights in the country,” you continue, “A telegram comes in from Alaric, urging him to come home as soon as possible. Mister Hallows boards the midnight train back to the Grand Metropolis late last night and arrives home this morning to find his shop broken into and his son Alaric fast asleep as if nothing’s happened.”

“Intriguing,” Blaise remarks, a slimy tendril wrapping around your hand as he pulls the cup of coffee from your fingers. “Most intriguing, Detective.”

You shiver at the sensation of Blaise wrapped around you, his tendril taking its sweet time unraveling from your arm. You collect yourself and turn back to the facts of the case.

“Nothing from the shop is missing. Despite Alaric’s objections, Mister Hallows files a report with Grand Metro PD. But, as they’re up to their necks in reports, they send him over to the local PI, Yours Truly.” You gulp down the coffee, and turn your focus back to the men before you, “So, I ask you this, gentlemen… Who breaks into a store to not steal anything?”

“A Phantom.” Mister Hallows shivers. “A specter of the hereafter, back to settle unfinished business.”

“An interesting tale, but unlikely.” You take a seat in your chair and stifle a moan. Something sticky grasps at your rear through your clothes, gently caressing your thighs. You turn your attention to Blaise, glaring at him as if to silently say “Now Is Not The Time For This.” He gives you a playful wink as he sips his coffee.

Thankfully, Mister Hallows remains oblivious to the silent tension between the two of you. “Unlikely… how?” He asks.

“Well…” You ponder, pulling from a case a while back involving two Phantoms seeking retribution against one another. “Phantoms are an… anomaly. A soul per–persists after death, seeking to… to reso—”

You steady yourself, your thoughts wandering as Blaise’s shifting touch constricts your thoughts… but not as much as your groin.

“To Resolve unfinished business!” You finish, fidgeting the slime off of you. You feel naked without his touch and side-eye Blaise. The red menace seems as casual as ever, but his eyes dare you to finish without his touch on your skin. “I don’t see how breaking into your shop to steal nothing from you would resolve any quarrel it would have with you.”

“Maybe he wants to toy with me,” Mister Hallows murmured. “Drive me mad from beyond the grave, setting up scapegoats so his larger scheme can go undetected until the moment he wants to—”

“No, no,” Blaise interrupted, “It’s too complicated. If this Phantom wanted to toy with you, they’d do it through you directly or a loved one.”

You stand as you feel a slimy tendril coil around your leg. “Which brings me to our first major clue,” you shout aloud, producing a small glass case showcasing a bit of animal fur. “The fur.”

Mister Hallows blinks. “The fur?”

“The fur.” You continued. “I recognize this texture and smell — canine in nature — not to mention some of the marks in your floorboard showcasing pawprints in the wood.”

“So a pack of dogmen broke into my shop!” The elderly elf spluttered. “I should have known! It was those Mutts on 21st Street!”

“Not quite, Mister Hallows,” You explain, trying to calm the stirred elder. “I’ve reason to believe only one canine was in your store last night. Now, I believe that—”

You paused, a moment of clarity dawning upon your mind.

“One more thing, actually…” You chuckled sheepishly. “I hate to ask, but you mentioned your son Alaric has an ailing condition. It wouldn’t be…”

“Lycanthropy,” the elf states matter-of-factly, practically ordering you to choose your next words carefully. “Came down with it almost a month ago after a run-in with some strikebreakers. But I’ve been treating it with a prescription of Wolfsbane—”

“A prescription you filed under your name?”

“Alaric’s exhausted day in and day out. He doesn’t have the time to—”

“But he has the time to watch your shop while you’re in the country?”

“He said he’d be fine while I was gone—”

“There was a Full Moon last night, Mister Hallows!”

The elf’s beady eyes twisted into a raging scowl. “If you mean to say that my son, me own flesh and blood, ransacked me own shop, Detective, you must be—”

A torrent of red descended upon Mister Hallows, flowing over him and his chair and binding him down before he could lash out at you. Blaise’s head formed next to his own, a slimy red hand holding the elf’s head still.

“Relax, Archie~” Blaise soothed, “The Detective knows what they’re talking about.” Blaise turned back to you, and you shook your head, yourself in disbelief at what you believed to have occurred.

“Mister Hallows,” you began slowly, “I do not believe that your son acted in ill will, but I do believe in this.”

You paced behind your desk, formulating the events in your mind. Blaise watched with interest.

“One month ago,” You began, “You signed a prescription in your name for Wolfsbane to treat your son’s ailment following an attack by a werewolf. Weeks later, you and your son are invited to visit your relatives in the country. Being a prideful elf, as you’ve so evidently shown, you can’t stomach the idea of anyone knowing your son has this condition. You close your shop for the week on Monday and leave Alaric to watch over it in your absence.”

You stop, turning on your heel. “But, the prescription is finished sooner than you expected, and Alaric, unable to refill it himself, writes urgently to you to quickly come back for a day and refill it — Only you’re not quick enough. Last night, with no Wolfsbane to halt the effects of the moonlight, Alaric transforms. Under the influence of the Full Moon, he stumbles through your shop in a fit of confusion, unused to the proper effects of lycanthropy. He breaks this and that all through the night until morning comes. Upon which, he exhaustedly scrambles to his bed and falls asleep. You arrive home in aghast at the ordeal, and you approach me today, seeking to find another reason for these events.”

You turn back to the elf bound to his chair in red slime. “Mister Hallows, no crime has been committed here. It was, simply put, an accident.”

The elf makes no response.

“Mister Hallows?”

A gurgling moan spills from Mister Hallows’ lips, his eyes half-lidded in euphoria from the sensations of Blaise’s slimy embrace. You gawk at the sight of the old man coming undone in binds of red slime, ribbons of scarlet flowing over him and caressing him with wanton affection. A part of you was in dismay at the sight, though deep within you felt jealous of the elf.

“Blaise,” you said pointedly, “What are you doing to Mister Hallows?”

The slime waves away your concern. “The poor old man’s been so taught over this ordeal. I figured I ought to help him unwind a bit while you explain it all away. I must say, you are a Master of Deduction. I’m impressed by what your mind does when you aren’t obsessing over me~”

“He’s a client! He’s my client! You can’t just fondle and grope my clients at your pleas—”

You gag as a band of slime shoots out and wraps around your throat. You gag, pleasure overwhelming your senses as the tight hold leaves you gasping for breath. Blaise slinks over to you with a toying look in his eye.

“Speaking of which…” He cooed, “I believe, as my client, I bought your silence, Detective. So, please… Your work is over. Why don’t you relax like our good friend Mister Hallows and let me do my work~”

The elf murmured incoherently from the chair, the need in his voice begging for more of Blaise’s attention.

You wince as the slimy collar grips you. Your eyes roll in your head, your mind succumbing to Blaise’s touch much quicker than you anticipated. You’d have thought your routine visits with him would’ve numbed you to his presence, but as waves of red begin to envelop you, you can’t deny how good it feels to let him work his magic.

Blaise cups your chin in a slimy tendril, his pink eyes staring you down hungrily as a long tongue slithers from his lips. You wanted him to quit teasing and plunge it directly down your throat. You needed his sweet, syrupy taste in your mouth more than ever. His tongue stretches out towards you, winding itself up to pounce. The slime around your neck retreats, granting you room to breathe and babble incoherently at the thought of it.

The slime squeezes around your throat again, and you gag as it rises to gag your mouth. Blaise’s tongue licks over your cheek, and the slime moves to whisper in your ear.

“You’re so eager, Detective~” Blaise teases, “But you’ll have to make do with your ‘client’ before you’re ready for me.”

Your eyes dart as Blaise’s slime lifts you, moving you to the other side of the room where Mister Hallows quivers in his binds. Blaise sets to multitasking, combing through your files and cases as his slime sets to pleasuring you and the elf. The two of you erupt into muffled moans as the gooey hold surrounding you ripples, sending waves of pleasure through your bodies. Your mind raced with thoughts of how badly you needed this.

A slimy mass pushes against your crotch and your vision blurs as it pulses between your thighs. You throw your head back, the slime slipping from your mouth to let Blaise hear you moan. You cry out in ecstasy at the slime overwhelming your senses, and your head hangs limply as it continues its conquest of your body.

A brief thought enters your mind as your dazed eyes turn back to the elf opposite you. It never occurred to you, but you never realized how handsome Mister Hallows was. The elf had aged well, you could admit, but seeing him bound up alongside you made him appear to you like a vision from above. Ensnared in lengths of scarlet, mewling incoherently as his naked body was left slick and pliant from Blaise’s touch — it was like you had sipped a fine wine beyond compare.

But most beautiful of all were his eyes.

The elf had a wonderful set of green eyes. You knew this for a fact. But here in Blaise’s touch, those eyes were nowhere to be seen. Beneath his bushy brows, his eyes had glazed over with a shade of rich, rosy pink not unlike Blaise’s eyes. They were intoxicating to look at and made you feel as if you were looking into the slime’s eyes themself.

It was these eyes that drew you to him.

It was these eyes that made you think of your own eyes, and how you’d never thought of how pretty they looked glazed in Blaise’s own.

It was these eyes that made you thrash closer to him, eager to plant your lips on him and taste the sweet syrup that glistened over both of your bodies.

And as the slime brought you closer together, you realized those same, needy thoughts were laying waste to Mister Hallows’ mind.

You descended upon the elf with a consuming hunger, your bodies moving in sync as they ground against one another. Bliss flowed between the two of you, connected through your lips rolled over your bodies’ wonderful tastes, the silent gasps and groans accompanying your dance of delight, and the flowing caresses of your hands and the slime around you both.

As you lay with the elf, your body feeling like one together with his, Blaise continued his studies. He scoured through file after file, pouring over notes and taking in your recent work. At last, he stops, his eyes settled on a familiar file.

“Someone is still interested in our missing Botanist, Detective,” he tutted, looking over the case. “You’ve done well to ignore them, but I think a more direct message may be necessary if they persist in seeing you.” He pocketed the file into his gooey form, then turned his attention back to you.

He grinned at the sight of you descending upon Mister Hallows, the old elf’s senses coming undone as you mouthed breathlessly into his lips.

“Now then…” He smirked.

You and the elf gasped as slime wound between your bodies and pulled you apart, your tongues lulling needily as they were torn from the other’s lips. Mister Hallows groaned as his lips were left deprived of your touch. You panted for breath, still wanting more of that syrupy taste on your lips.

“I hope you’re finished with your appetizer, Detective,” Blaise whispered, wrapping you tight within himself, “Because it’s time for your main course~”

A giggle leaks from your mouth as you writhe giddily in his slimy grasp, waves of crimson tormenting you as they pulse and caress you with wanton desire. Your mind begs for him, cries out in silent mewls for him to drown you in heavenly, euphoric

Bliss~

Your mind stills as something long and red slips into your mouth. The sickly sweet taste of strawberries silences every sensation in your body as Blaise kisses you deeply, his lips rolling over your own and pushing you deeper into his embrace. You tremble in his touch as you feel your mind melting, everything soaked in pure pleasure. Your fingers claw desperately for something to grip, finding their only hold in his gooey form as he binds your hands in his tendrils and spreads you out. Your legs quiver and jolt as he blankets your body.

Every part of your body drowns in the sensation of slime. Nothing — Nothing — is left untouched. No inch of you is left unstained. No muscle was left without a caress. All you feel is Blaise. All you know is Blaise. All around you is Blaise.

The long, slimy tongue down your throat retreats for a moment, granting you a brief reprieve to pant and gasp for breath, only for it to push sinfully back in to give you a deeper taste. Back and forth it comes and goes, in and out of your throat. You gulp down

You hardly know how long you’ve been here with him in his touch.

You hardly know your own name.

All you know is when his slime finally, lazily, pulls itself off of you, you’re still hungry for more.

Blaise shushes you as you reach out for him, and for a brief moment, he holds you still, admiring the pink in your half-lidded eyes.

“You’ve done so well tonight, Detective,” he said warmly, “Rest well, and in the morning — after you’ve received your payment for your blind eye — remember what you’ve pieced together on Mister Hallows’ case.”

Your senses succumb to the gentle pull of sleep, and Blaise carries you gently up to your bed upstairs. Upon his return, he turned his attention to the old elf, still bound in his slime and babbling incoherently in sweet delight.

“Now, Mister Hallows,” he said with a devious grin, “I’m afraid I cannot allow you to remember some of the details from your meeting with the Detective today. Fortunately for us, that requires us to get to know each other much more… intimately~”

Mister Hallows stilled as Blaise cupped his head in his slimy hands, caressing the old elf’s cheek. He murmured in a shaky voice about needing something.

“Don’t worry,” Blaise soothed, rubbing his slime over the elf’s temples, “The Detective will close this case with you and your son tomorrow over lunch. But for now, relax, and let me fix everything in your addled mind. I know just what you need to feel so much better~”

#bawdy posts #my writing #blaise (bawdybooster)#hypnosis #hypnokink #mind control #slime boy #monster boy #elves #tongue #(good grief i did NOT anticipate this being such a long story)#(but hot DAMN do i love it!)

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