#can you tell I like cult-y stuff? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

revasserium · 3 months ago

Note

hi! I've been reading your opla!zoro stuff and I wanted to tell you your writing is so gorgeous! it's truly breathtaking, you're really talented ❤️ i've looked through your prompts tag, im not sure how requesting works, but could I ask for "edge of falling" or "the spaces between us" (whichever one you like the most) with zoro and fem!reader? i'm a goner for longing and feelings realization and the prompts give me those vibes, but i'm sure anything you write will be lovely <3

reqs are open!

the edge of falling

opla!zoro; 7,475 words; fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, passing mentions of: cult!, physical violence, & trauma/cult-programming, ex-cult member!reader, strawhat!reader, traumatized!reader, protective!zoro, healing from past trauma, learning to trust etc, angst with a happy ending!, a metric TON of plot

summary: "Lie to me," Time said to Love; Love smiled and said, "I promise, I'll never let you slip away."

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! i uhm idk what happened with this fic tbh. there's def uh -- longing of SOME kind here??? welp. pls read the tw list! there's some dark-ish content in this. but i promise it ends well u__u

prelude: in which a fox teaches you to speak

Time is the greatest liar, so you are told, over and over and over. For the longest time, you think it’s the only truth you’ll ever know.

But we will live forever…

So long as you do the things you’re told. So long as you make the Fox happy. So long, so long, so long.

There is no way to mark the passage of time in the compound; with no sunlight to guide the way, you are left to other, more primal ways of keeping track — that elusive, silver-fish creature — time — always slipping through your fingers when want to hold on most.

You measure it in wounds, in the time it takes for a fresh wound to seal over, for the scab to break and reveal the soft, tender pink flesh beneath. You measure it in gulps of water, in bites of cold food, in the droplets of artificial rain that they let fall through the ceiling sometimes. You measure it in rewards too, in long baths and hot meals, in the evenings when the Fox would tell you stories in his low, lilting voice instead of leaving you in his seething silences.

And he is ever so good with stories. If you stay still and keep quiet, and let his voice wash over you like a hungry tide across a rain-starved beach, you can feel the words seeping into your bones, ringing out till they feel like nothing but god’s given truth.

As long as you’re good… I promise I’ll make you live forever.

Like this, you learn the weapon of words, the power of speech, how to listen for lies, and how to tell them, and tell them, and tell them.

The Fox is good at lying; you’ll just have to learn to be better.

act i: yet another sad, desperate soul

Roronoa Zoro has never been a man of many words, but it would be remiss to say that he isn’t a man of his word — you see, when he does speak, he speaks with intention. And always, with conviction.

“Hey. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, then, is the first lie he tells you.

“Liar.” You spit out the word, drawing back, your body a tangle of livewire nerves, your eyes darting back and forth, an entire life’s worth of fight and flight caught on the hair-pin trigger of his breath as he jolts back slightly and blinks at you.

“Y-you — you can’t know that,” you say, your voice still ragged. But Zoro sees it for the attempt it is — an olive branch, however tentatively extended. And he takes it, wordlessly.

He nods once, reaching out to help you up. The compound crumbles around you, and you unconsciously wrap your arms around yourself, as if to hold yourself together, to keep from shattering into a hundred million tiny little shards of pain and mistrust.

“The fox-guy’s dead! But it looks like this whole island’s gonna blow!” Nami races out of the massive, temple-esque structure just as it starts to collapse from the inside out.

Luffy slingshots passed, cackling as Sanji and Usopp bring up the rear. On the Merry, Robin and Chopper are waiting, and the second Zoro manages to hoist you onto the main deck, the ship careens off into the dark tumult of waves.

You skitter away the minute Zoro’s arm slips from around your waist, and he turns to find you pressing yourself back against the railings, staring at them all with wide eyes, your expression caught halfway between fear and consternation. He takes half a step back, crossing his arms just as Luffy bounds forward with a bright, unassuming smile.

“Don’t worry! You’re safe now!” He makes to slap one of your shoulders but you duck out of the way, chewing on your bottom lip.

Robin clears her throat gently and offers you a smile, “We’re not going to hurt you.”

You narrow your eyes, your gaze darting between them like a trapped animal, but after another beat of stillness (punctuated only by Nami swearing softly to herself as she steers the Merry around a particularly difficult formation of rocks), your entire body seems to soften, and Zoro uncrosses his arms again, resting a hand casually on the hilt of his blades.

“Th-thank you…” you bob your head once, swallowing hard passed chapped lips and a raw throat. Your white linen dress is stained with blood and dirt, a tear at your collar making it slip from your shoulder.

“’S alright now, darlin’ — how bout we run you a nice, hot bath? I could cook you just about anything y’like. Fancy a drink as well? I think a bubbly would be good for a —”

“Lay off, cook.” Zoro cuts Sanji off with a scoff, barring Sanji’s approach with an arm in the gut.

You watch them with dark eyes, your expression curiously blank.

“Will you let me look at your wounds?” Chopper offers.

You jump a little at his voice, piping up from your left side. You glance at Zoro once before looking back at Chopper and nodding.

Sanji tucks his hands into his pockets and watches as Chopper leads you beneath the deck, Zoro following a few steps behind. He lights a cigarette as soon as the trap door clanks shut.

A beat of silence, and then —

“Wow, that island really, really sucked!” Luffy says, turning back to his crew.

Sanji lets out a puff of smoke as Usopp slumps down against the main mast with a groan.

“You can say that again.”

“What happened?” Robin asks.

Sanji sighs, shaking his head, “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

Below deck, Chopper dabs at your wounds with expert ease as you sit very still on the kitchen island and Zoro watches from the sofa, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“These surface wounds aren’t that bad but…” Chopper trails off, his eyes running over the network of old scars that mar your skin, layers and layers of them — down your arms and along your torso.

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice smooth as polished marble, “I’m —” you swallow, “I’m fine.”

And if it weren’t for the hiccup, the slight hitch in your breath, you would’ve been utterly convincing. Your expression is flat, your voice, even more so.

Across the room, Zoro makes disbelieving noise, “If it hurts, just say so. Chopper’ll fix it.”

“I’m… I’m fine,” you say again, tugging at the sleeve of your torn shift, your tone now a bit more honest, your words tired and resigned. Zoro looks to Chopper, who gives a faint nod of acquiescence before Zoro stands up and jerks his head towards the door.

“Cook’s right — you should wash up before dinner.”

You follow him down the hallway, through a small door that leads into a washroom that’s much cleaner than one might expect a ship’s bathroom to be. A large, wooden soaking tub sits in the middle of the room, and a clean change of clothes has already been laid out on a bench next to the bath.

Zoro grunts after he takes a once-over of the room, satisfied that all’s in order, and makes to leave.

You tug at his sleeve, head lowered.

“Can you…” you lick your lips, “can you stay?”

Zoro glances down at your fingers curled into his shirt sleeve before his eyes flick up to find your face. You’re looking at some indiscriminate point over his left shoulder, but your lips are trembling and your jaw is set.

He lets out a long breath, slowly twisting his body towards the room and you.

“Sure.”

He makes a show of turning around to face the door as you slip off your clothes and sink into the steaming bath water. A long exhale and the light slosh of water is all the indication he gets that it’s safe to turn back around.

He leans himself against the door, his swords propped on his shoulder, his head lolled back, his eyes closed.

He listens to the soft sounds of the water, to the faint splashes as you rub the grit and grime from your skin, inch by inch.

“We were only allowed to bathe as a reward for doing a good deed.”

Your voice makes him open his eyes, his gaze focusing in on the shape of you, nearly submerged in the bathtub, your hair slick and sticking to your pale shoulders. Even in this dim lighting, he can see the patterns your scars make against your skin. Water glimmers along the contours of your face as you run your palms along your cheeks, rubbing at them till they’re ruddy with color.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Quit bein’ so rough,” he moves forward without thinking, reaching out a hand to help you with some of the more stubborn pieces of dirt but he pauses, realizing how utterly still you’ve gone.

You stare at him for a long moment before relaxing back into the water and shifting towards the edge of the tub to allow him better access.

He runs a callused thumb along your cheekbones, wiping away the remaining dirt there.

“What was a ‘good deed’?” he asks, letting the tips of his fingers skim the warm water’s surface.

You shrug, “Mostly anything that made Mr. Fox happy… so all of us would —” you take another breath, your hand opening and closing beneath the surface of the still bath water, “we’d spend all our waking hours trying to think of something — anything — that’d please him. No matter how small… no matter how… terrible.”

“This Mr. Fox… what was his deal, anyway?”

You stare down into the dark water, now rapidly cooling from warm to lukewarm.

You take a deep breath, lifting a hand out of the water to distort the image of your ghostly reflection.

“He… was a liar. Except… he could make all his lies sound like the truth.”

“It was uncanny, really,” Sanji says, now at full throttle in the kitchen prepping for dinner service, Usopp lounging on sofa, his feet propped up on the hanging table.

Chopper and Robin both frown.

“What do you mean?” Robin asks.

“It was like… the guy could say anything and make it sound like the truth — even though you knew somewhere inside you that it can’t be real. Like — he could tell you the sky was green and every single part of you would believe him, even though you’re outside and starin’ up at the sky.”

“Yeah! Like he said I’d never be able to beat him and… for a second, I kinda almost believed him!” Luffy offers, munching on a bushel of apples and spitting out the seeds.

Robin’s brows furrow, tapping at her chin with a thin finger.

“It sounds like the Uso-Uso no Mi…”

“Ugh, what a weird, scary power…” Chopper shudders, shaking his head, his tiny hooved hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “I’m sure it’d mess with people’s heads!”

“It sure did. But he also used it to feed false information to the Marines,” Nami says, slipping through the half-opened door to join the rest of the crew on the sofa, “ran a series of taverns that just so happened to be situated in major Marine towns.”

Sanji glances up from a huge, steaming pan of paella, a cigarette caught between his teeth.

“So what was his end goal then? Just to fuck over the Marines?”

Back in the bathroom, you run your fingers along the edge of the tub as if playing an invisible piano.

“Power, domination… I don’t think he had a goal or purpose… I think… he just got off on it…”

Your voice is light, conversational, almost as if you were talking about the weather. But Zoro sees the glazed look in your eyes, the tightness at the edges of your lips.

“You called me a liar,” he says, reaching into the tub and flicking you lightly with a bit of water.

You blink, a smile threatening the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah… guess I did.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

He pulls out his hand and wipes it on a towel, leaning back to stare at you.

You shrug, “Sometimes… people lie to others, and sometimes, people lie to themselves. It’s the ones we tell ourselves that are always the most convincing.”

“I don’t lie. ‘Specially not to myself.”

You let out a tiny laugh, “But I guess… sometimes, if you believe in something hard enough… it’ll just start to be come the truth.”

There’s a note of… something in your voice that Zoro doesn’t like, but he can’t put a name to the feeling so he stays quiet as you continue the laborious work of scrubbing your skin clean, till all the water in the tub’s gone cold.

The rest of the evening passes as most evenings on the Merry do after a big fight — with a lot of food and even more booze. With music and laughter, and new crew member, sitting in the corner, watching mostly and smiling occasionally. No one pushes you, though Sanji does make a valiant effort in getting you to admit to your favorite foods, and Luffy tries two or three times to drag you into the more raucous celebrations (mostly involving way too much meat being roasted on a spike).

No one questions the way Zoro never wanders too far.

No one questions the way your eyes track him around the room, or how, even when Robin and Nami finally get a laugh out of you, you still instinctively searched for Zoro’s figure till you’ve found it in the other corner, a bottle caught between his lips, his eyes half-shut but his gaze caught on you like a fish to a seaman’s hook.

act ii: everything and nothing

A week passes, and then another. And you slowly, but surely, come out of your shell — it’s a strange sort of blossoming, the way you reveal yourself in shards and pieces, jagged and jarring. The shrapnel bits of your personality peaking out amidst the flotsam and jetsam of all your manifold defense mechanisms.

You’re a brilliant liar, but even better at spotting a lie, and it’s a thing that none of the crew had ever really thought about until you’d come along, casually poking holes in their daily deceits.

“Mm! These pancakes are perfect! Just the way I like them!”

“The new dress looks beautiful, Nami.”

“I absolutely did not finish the last bag of popcorn… Luffy did it!”

You clear your throat.

“Okay fine… the pancakes were really good but… but I like them… sweeter.”

“The dress is… well, everything looks gorgeous on you, of course, you know that Nami! But — the color… clashes just a tiny little bit with your… hair.”

“I might’ve uh… taken a few bites out of the popcorn bag… last night… but I was keeping watch and I needed to keep my energy up!”

Robin titters, a sphinx-like smile spreading across her lips.

“Apparently, 60% of people lie at least once every 10 minutes,” she says, casually taking a sip of orange juice as Zoro runs through his daily training regime, seemingly unbothered by the chaos currently taking place on the main deck regarding the “popcorn incident”.

“Dunno why people bother,” Zoro says, working through a set of single-armed burpees.

“I suppose it’s just human nature. We want other people to like us… so we say what we think they might want to hear, instead of what we really think. It’s harmless, mostly,” Robin remarks, leaning back against a white planter box, basking in the shade of the tangerine trees.

“Till it isn’t,” Zoro says, finishing up his workout and pushing himself up for a long stretch. He casts his eyes once more towards where you’re now laughing as Usopp tries to think of some new tall tale to tell.

It only takes you half a second to turn your head, and Zoro wonders at the kind of life you might’ve led to make you so sensitive to another person’s gaze. What must’ve happened to warrant this kind of alertness? But then again, he’d been a hunter long enough to know exactly what being hunted looks like.

He caught a glimpse of it at the compound but — still, his fingers itch toward his swords, his jaw clenches tight enough for Robin to cock her head and raise a brow.

“Yes… until it isn’t…” she echoes, her eyes also trailing towards you.

Zoro holds your gaze for a second before rolling his shoulders and looking away, squinting at the far horizon.

“Oi. Looks like trouble.”

Robin straightens, and a second later, Chopper sounds the alarm from the crow’s nest.

“Marines! Marines!”

There is the shink of swords being drawn, the gentle echo of Robin’s voice as her arms multiply. There’s canon fire and a lot of yelling. But at the end, there’s only bodies and blood and the tattered remains of the Marine’s ship, bobbing in the stained sea below them.

“Should we go after them?” Sanji asks, lighting up a cig, watching as the tiny emergency boat rows off into the distance.

“Nah. We’ll be alright!” Luffy says, wiping a hand across his nose.

Zoro turns towards you, sheathing his swords.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say, your voice immediately taking on an unctuous sheen that makes Zoro take a step closer.

“You hurt anywhere?” he runs an appraising eye down your form and nods in the knowledge that at least you don’t look hurt.

“No… I —” you chew down on your bottom lip, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your arms. But you back away from him the moment he tries to take a step forward.

“Hey — quit that,” he taps at your wrist with the hilt of his sword, the touch hard but not harsh, forcing you to pull away.

“It’s — I’m — I’m alright,” you say, insistent and mollifying. Zoro runs his thumb against the hilt of his blades and scoffs.

“Liar,” he says, tossing the word casually back at you in a way that makes your breath hitch. Then, he turns, and marches below decks to tend to his own wounds.

A deafening silence rings out around you as you stare down at the ships blood-drenched planks before Robin places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon now — lets get your back looked at.”

Below decks, you find Zoro dabbing gingerly at a large slash on his right arm.

“Here, you’ve missed a spot —” you reach out to take the iodine soaked cloth from Zoro’s hand, only to have him jerk away. You flinch back, wide-eyed.

Zoro softens, if only ever so slightly.

“I’m fine,” he says, a harsh edge to his voice as he goes back to trying to twist around himself enough to see the spot he’s missed. You purse your lips, watching him for a second, two seconds, three — before you glance back at the place Robin had been only to realize that she’d gone.

“May… I?” you reach out your hand, palm up, tentative and imploring. But you hold yourself still, waiting for Zoro to make the next move. And he does, eventually, sighing as he turns back around to drop the piece of cloth into your palm.

You reach forward as he turns to his side, offering up his arm as you slowly start to wipe away at the bits of dried blood caking his skin to reveal the raw, red gash, the angry, raised flesh around it. You lean forward, blowing slightly as you daub at the wound, making your way down his bicep till the entire cut’s been coated in iodine.

“There. All done.”

You lean back to toss the cloth into the sink but Zoro stops you. He catches your wrist in his good hand and with a slight tug, has you toppling forward towards his chest.

“Turn around.”

His voice is soft, but firm. And it leaves no room for protests as you stare at him for a long moment before sighing and resigning yourself to your fate. You turn to show him your back.

A disgruntled huff is all you get before you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro rummaging around the first aide kit for a fresh piece of cloth, and the pop of the iodine bottle opening again.

“Who did this?” he asks as he slowly reaches out to tug a thin spike from your skin, small as a needle and just as sharp. You bite back a wince.

“The porcupine guy…” your voice trails off as Zoro grunts.

“Right.”

He tugs out another spike; it tinks against the metal of the sink as he tosses it away. A brief sting, and then the cooling feeling of the iodine cloth.

After a few minutes of working in silence, Zoro sighs.

“Geez, he really got you bad, didn’t he?”

“Not really,” you say, and you feel Zoro’s hands pause.

“No?”

You shake your head, “I’ve… been through much worse… and lived to tell the tale so…”

Zoro doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re talking about your past on the island, inside that windowless compound. He can see it in the scars that mar nearly the entirety of your back, the criss-cross lines of what looks like knife-wounds, the occasional puckered marks that look suspiciously like burns. He steels himself then, and continues to work — plucking out a spike and cleaning out the wound.

“You were right,” he says, when he finally finishes cleaning up your back and you both straighten to face each other. He wipes his hands clean and winces slightly as he flexes his newly bandaged arm.

“Right about what?” your voice is innocent, but the flash in your eyes tells him that you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“That first day — I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t… make sure that no one ever hurt you again.”

His fingers curl into fists at his sides and you can see the muscle ticking in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

You reach out, tracing a thumb along his jawline. When you pull back, there’s a small daub of blood on your finger and you wipe it away without breaking his gaze.

“No, you couldn’t but… you tried.”

Zoro scoffs, “Tryin’s not good enough.”

“No,” you jerk up to glare at him, your voice harsh in a way that he’s only ever heard right after they’d rescued you, the edges of your words raw and ragged as a serrated blade, “trying is everything.”

interlude: truth or dare

It gets better after that, and you grow and bloom and grow some more. Zoro does too, though in his own way — he gets stronger, gets faster, hits harder. And though you two never quite agree on anything, he is always by your side, and you’re somehow always by his.

“’M not even a lil drunk —”

“Liar~” you singsong, giggling as Zoro shakes his head, tipping the remains of a bottle of sake back down his throat before wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.

“Mm… ‘s that all I am to you? Just another guy who lies?” Zoro swings lazily on the hammock hung on the main deck, his eyes half-lidded and alight with the dancing firelight.

“Stupid question — drink,” you answer, bringing our own bottle up to your lips.

Zoro laughs, quiet and pleased as he reaches for a new bottle.

“Alright then — truth or dare?” he asks, uncorking the new bottle and reaching out to offer you some. You bat him away, your movements languid and heavy, your back pressed against a heavy wooden barrel, one leg propped up to support your arm, the other stretched out long and lithe in front of you.

“Truth,” you say, your voice easy, your smile even more so.

“Alright then — do you trust me?” Zoro’s voice dips, and your eyes flash up. There’s a sobering light somewhere behind the alcohol soaked haze clouding his gaze and you can tell by the steadiness of his hands that he’s not nearly as drunk as he might seem.

“What do you mean?” you ask, casually evading the question.

Zoro tuts, “’S not an answer.”

“I’m asking for a clarification.”

Zoro shakes his head, taking another soft swig, “Simple question — do you trust me?”

You purse your lips, mulling over the myriad answers you could provide and make it sound like the truth. But that’s not really how the game goes. So instead, you take a deep breath.

“I — I want to,” and it’s the way your voice breaks that makes it honest, the way you can’t hold the truth in by the seams of your careful cadence, no matter how hard you try to smooth out the ragged edges.

“So… that’s a no,” Zoro says, keeping his tone even. You can’t help reaching for him — imploring.

“Not yet but —”

“Why?”

“Why… what?”

“I guess…” Zoro leans back, casting his eyes up at the wild, dark sky, careening above the ship in an ecstatic spread of stars and, long sinuous, moon-silvered clouds, “why d’you want to trust me? Doesn’t seem like something you’d be eager to do after… y’know, everything.”

You lick your lips and stare into the empty bottom of your glass.

“Honestly?” you say, “because you’re kind of a shit liar —”

Zoro lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, but doesn’t deny it.

“But… also because you’re the only person I’ve met who… who treats words so carefully — I mean…” you swallow, leaning forward slightly as Zoro drops his gaze back down to you, “it’s like — my whole life has just been people saying things they don’t really mean, and never meaning what they say, and then trying to figure out what’s really happening — trying to say the right thing, not the thing you mean but the thing you think they’d want to hear —” your breath quickens, “and — and if you don’t or if you’re bad at it, then bad things happen to you and the people you care about —”

“Hey.”

A hand presses down on your shoulder and you gasp, your breath knifing through your chest as you clasp your shaking hands to your sternum.

“Breathe. You’re okay.”

You nod, unable to say anything as Zoro sits in front of you, his hand like an anchor in a summer storm, keeping you tethered.

You breathe and take stock of your limbs — feet, legs, hands, arms. It’s then that you realize Zoro’s crouching in front of you, your drink glass resting by his side.

“Thanks,” you say, nodding as he gives your shoulder a slight squeeze before pulling away. Physical touch has never been one of your strong points, and it seems Zoro’s learned that without you ever having to tell him.

It’s strange — the sudden knowledge that somehow, his understanding of you has been wordless and implicit. Complete, from nearly the day the Straw Hats had picked you up on that island. You’d never had to explain, never had to draw your boundaries.

And yet somehow, he knew. As if he’d always just known.

“Truth or dare?” you ask him, your voice barely a whisper, shifting to make more space for him on the dark deck of the ship’s forecastle. Zoro sits down in front of you, crossing his legs.

“Dare.”

You don’t fight the grin as it lifts the side of your lips.

The quiet pulses between the pair of you like a heartbeat.

“Tell me a secret.”

“Gotta be more specific,” Zoro’s grin lilts to mirror your own.

“Any secret,” you say, “something you… something you wouldn’t otherwise say out loud.”

“Isn’t that what a secret’s supposed to be? Something you don’t say?”

You laugh, tasting the sound like a mouthful of champagne, bubbling up through you and spiraling towards the endless summer’s night.

“Quit stalling!”

“Think I wanna kiss you.”

A gasp slices through the air between you. You feel the weight of it in your throat, the white-hot flicker of his gaze as he glances down at your lips. You wet them without thinking, and as Zoro lean’s in, you can sense the night around you slowly coalescing into something warm, something solid. Like a marble clutched in a child’s palm, or a pearl held on an oyster’s velvet tongue.

“Truth or dare?” he asks.

He stops just short of your lips, his nose almost grazing yours. You can nearly taste the sweet sake on his breath —

“Dare.”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes flutter and for a second, an eternity revolves in the space between your heartbeats. Faintly, you register the gentle rocking of the ship as an indolent wave catches her starboard side.

You close your eyes.

For a second, there is space. For a second, there is breath. For a second, there is gravity. And then — all of that disappears. All of it eclipsed by the kiss. And then, the kiss is all there is.

All there was, and ever will be.

There’s a graze of fingers against skin, the bump of legs against legs against thighs against knees — there’s knuckles and noses and hair falling, hair being tugged into closing fists. There’s the clink-clink-clink of earrings, and the clatter-clap-clat of swords and hilts and rough, wooden planks.

There’s the dull thunk and baseline rumble of a glass being knocked over and rolling away.

But all of that is afterthought. All of that is supplement, a postscript, marginalia and footnotes.

Because there, then — there is only the kiss, and nothing but the kiss: a catastrophe of inevitability, smooth as a secret, and whisper-sweet.

When the pair of you pull away, there’s a chaos of wings against your ribcage.

There’s the honeyed, lambent light in Zoro’s eyes as he grins down at you.

“Truth — or dare,” a breathless gasp punctuates your words.

Zoro’s grin only grows as he tips your chin back between his thumb and forefinger.

“Dare.”

It’s only then that you realize his cheeks are wine-flushed, his chest rising and falling nearly as fast as yours. You swallow slow and track his eyes as he watches the pale bob of your throat.

“Kiss me again.”

act iii: fool’s gold

It takes all of three hours for Sanji to get something out of Zoro, and three days before Robin and Nami manage to wheedle something out of you.

“No seriously! Things have been different since that one party we had —” Nami presses her palm to the kitchen table, here eyes wide. Robin sits on the couch, her expression one of mixed amusement and near academic interest.

“Different how?” you reach into the cookie jar and fish out a crumbled corner of what used to be a double chocolate chip cookie.

“Ugh! You know what I mean!” Nami turns to Robin, motioning towards you, “Help me here!”

Robin laughs, tossing up a graceful hand, “I suppose something does seem… changed.”

“Something?” you ask, licking at a smudge of chocolate on your thumb.

“Well…” Robin says, drawing out the syllable and making to examine the nails on her long, thin fingers, “it’s definitely not nothing.”

You allow yourself a smile, “Something’s definitely not nothing.”

Nami lets out a frustrated groan, but she’s smiling too.

It’s been long enough that you’d learned to relax around them, and you’d since also learned that nothing is so sacred as the sanctity of sisterhood. That bonds between friends might be forged in fire and brimstone, but bonds between women are forged in cinder and smoke — in the wreckage of after, when the fighting’s been done and all that’s left is the mending.

“What’s all this giggling about?” Zoro ducks into the half-ajar door, staring at the three of you.

Nami cocks an eyebrow; Robin shrugs.

You, for your part, smile and bat your lashes.

“Oh nothing,” you say.

“Just girl-talk,” offers Nami.

“Nothing to interest a legendary swordsman like yourself,” Robin polishes off.

Zoro’s eyes narrow, his gaze jumping between the three of you before it lands on you and he scoffs.

“Yeah, whatever. We’re docking soon.”

And that’s all he offers before sauntering back out of the room, leaving the door swinging behind him, but not before you catch sight of the redness at the tips of his ears as he hurries away.

You give it a beat of three seconds before pushing to your feet and following after, humming to yourself. Behind you, Nami and Robin share a knowing look.

“Definitely not nothing,” Robin says as she stands to follow you.

The island, if it can even be called that, is nothing more than a rough conglomeration of steep cliffs strapped together by a thin band of land barely wide enough to be categorized as a beach.

“Well! This is something!” Luffy declares, his arms akimbo on his hips as he stares at the island.

“Yeah… it’s uh… something for sure,” Usopp agrees, making a face as he squints at the cluster of rocks that look more like the jagged edges of a broken bottle than any kind of proper land formation.

“We’ll just anchor here for the night… get some good rest, and then...” Sanji’s words trail off, interrupted by a ghostly wail that rises from the gathering of dark cliffs, turning them into an echo chamber until it seems to rumble through the sand beneath them.

“… gold, all gold! — no, not a liar — please!”

A shiver etches itself up your spine and instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself.

Zoro steps out in front of you, as if to shield you from whatever might come. His thumb presses against the hilt of his swords, his shoulders tense as corded wire.

“Uh… everyone else heard that too, right?” Chopper asks, peaking out from around Robin’s legs.

“Yep. Definitely not just you,” Sanji confirms.

Luffy grins, “Seems like there’s someone else on this island! Maybe they can show us around!”

Time passes by strangely on the island — one minute, the sun is still hanging low on the far horizon, and the next, the sky is the color of a bullet wound, darkness seeping in around the horizon.

“Whoever’s here on the island — they sure aren’t making it — easy —” Sanji grunts as he hoists himself up a slippery piece of rock face, sweat glistening on his forehead as he squints into the looming blackness.

“Luffy? You sure you know where we’re going?” Nami shouts, her voice ringing back in a way that makes everyone wince and cover their ears.

Zoro grabs your elbow a second before you slip, fingers digging into your flesh even as you steady yourself against him.

“Sorry — thanks,” you say, unsure of which one you really mean.

“Yeah! I can smell something — like a campfire! And… cooking!” Luffy’s voice calls back from somewhere in the gathering dark. Everyone shares a glance before bracing themselves and trudging on.

By the time you all catch up to Luffy, no one is certain of what time it is, only that it’s dark. But the kind of darkness that seems to cling to the skin — a darkness so dense it starts to take on shape and weight.

It presses in around you and you feel your breaths shortening in your chest.

Beside you, Zoro reaches out to brace a hand at the small of your back.

“Oh! I see a light ahead! C’mon!” Luffy’s voice rings out from somewhere up ahead, followed by the patter of sandals on stone. The rest of you follow, and then all too suddenly, light flickers to life in what seems to be a huge, subterranean cave deep within the cliffs of the island. It casts stark shadows against the slick, cavernous walls.

You frown, goosebumps rising along your arms and legs.

But before you have time to dwell on the wrongness of something there, Luffy’s voice snags your attention like a thread on an errant splinter.

“Hi! Oh, wow — that looks delicious!”

You turn a corner to find Luffy hunkering down over a blazing campfire and the silhouette of someone sitting opposite him, a sharp spike held out in front of them, turning slowly over the flickering flames.

“Oh… please… come join me — sit and listen to a story — I have so many stories — so many adventures to share!” the figure across the fire seems to quiver with the dancing flames, his voice filling up the whole of the cave, loud and boisterous and eager. But strange and hollow too.

You frown, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.

Ahead of you, Usopp and Chopper both take tentative seats next to Luffy, who had cheerfully plopped down next to the fire.

“Wow, this looks great! Are you here by yourself? I’m here with my crew! Are you a pirate too?” Luffy asks, his endless enthusiasm pouring from him like a spring.

Robin, Nami, and Sanji all hold back, but you take a step forward, and then another. Something compelling you towards the voice, pulling you closer. There’s a desperation, a loneliness with which you’re all too familiar — you inch closer, and then closer, till you’re almost level with Luffy, and you lower yourself to the ground next to him, Zoro dropping down beside you, his knee pressing against your leg in a silent reassurance.

“Come… come closer! It’s a good story — I promise!”

“Truth,” you mutter, just beneath your breath. Beside you, Zoro lets out a puff of breath, though his stance doesn’t loosen.

Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of the rest of the crew drawing just a step closer.

“Once upon a time… there was a city on an island where everything, and I mean everything was made of gold!”

The figure across the fire sounds cheered, elated even. Behind you, you feel Nami take half a step closer. Cold seeps into your veins despite the warm, dancing flames, and your fingers dig into the hard packed earth beneath you.

“I found it — I did! With my crew — the best sailors and seamen around! But the king… he was greedy! And he wanted his own men to take the treasures, so he forced me to lead them to the city again —”

“Truth,” you say again, but something in the tone of the figure’s voice makes you frown.

“Except… the city had gone… and there was nothing left… nothing but lies!”

You shudder back, swallowing hard. All around you, the darkness presses in with long, thin tendrils like so many loving fingers. The fire flares up, casting sparks up towards the cave’s ceiling, where stalagmites hang like broken teeth in a petrified monster’s maw.

“Oh… don’t be scared… come back — I won’t hurt you —”

“Liar!” you spit, the word scraping its way out of your throat.

Zoro leaps to his feet just as Luffy does the same. The fire flares again, a second before snuffing itself out, but in that second, you finally catch sight of the figure, hooded in shadow, sitting across from you — it has the shape of a man, tall and broad, but the limbs of a spindle-legged monster. It wears the darkness like a cloak, with beady, red eyes and a too-wide mouth.

“Don’t! Call me a liar! That’s what they called me — that’s what they called when they killed me! KILLED ME FOR TELLING THE TRUTH!”

You scramble back, Zoro nearly lifting you off the ground in his haste to pull you away. Luffy whips back his arm and swings it forward but all it catches is tendrils of shadow.

“Hey! That’s not nice!” he shakes off his fist, frowning as he stares at the bits of wriggling darkness still clinging to his skin.

“Run!” you shout as everyone bolts for the lightless path you all took to get to the heart of the cave.

“NOT A LIAR! NOT A LIAR! I FOUND IT! THE CITY! BELIEVE ME! BELIEVE ME!”

You clap your hands around your ears and race for what you hope is the exit. Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of Zoro’s blades whistling through the air*.*

“Damnit! How’dyou fight a shadow? There’s nothin’ to hit!”

“Quit tryna hit it and just run!” Sanji’s voice answers a second before he breezes passed you.

“Why don’t you believe me? Why?!”

“We — I believe you!” you shout, your chest a thundering mess of footfalls and scrambling bodies, and against all instinct, you turn around to face the darkness again, cupping your hands around your mouth, “I believe you! I know — I know you’re telling the truth!”

“What’re you doing?” Zoro asks, leveling himself by your side, his arm pressing against yours. Behind you, the thinnest sliver of light is creeping into the cave from what you assume is the entrance.

Morning. Has it really been that long?

Time is the greatest liar, you remember, suddenly, violently, the thought tearing through you like teeth.

“I — he’s telling the truth,” you say through gritted teeth, even as you take a few steps back. Inside the cave, the figure seems to shrink back from the encroaching light.

“What truth?” Zoro asks, his blade held aloft, his stance wide and ready.

“All of it,” you say, forcing your voice to be gentle, turning your face back towards the darkness, “I know, I can hear it — I know you’re telling the truth — about the island, the city — all of it!”

“Yes… all I wanted was to get back to the city… but… no one believe me… and I died… I died for it!”

“I know, and I’m sorry… no one should be punished for telling the truth —” your voice cracks.

“I tried!”

“I know…” you say as the figure shrinks and shrinks and shrinks and the light behind you grows and grows and grows, until you can feel the warm seeping into the skin of your back.

“And trying is everything,” you say, biting your lip as Zoro wraps an arm around your waist.

“Come with me… I’ll take you to the city — we can go together!”

You shake your head, heat prickling at your eyes as you turn away from the darkness of the cave and towards the light of the oncoming day.

“Liar…” the word falls from you like a rock, or a tear, cast off the cliff that greets you and Zoro as you both stare over the edge. The rest of the crew is nowhere to be found, but Zoro’s arm is still around your waist, and you can feel his warm breath by your cheek.

“Hey — do you trust me?”

You look up; in the dawning, morning light, Zoro, with his sun-kissed skin and dark moss hair appears to be limned in gold.

And maybe it’s the air, or the sea, or simply the angry pieces of this jagged, left-behind island of shadows like broken teeth trying to tear apart the sky, conducting his voice into a cacophony of echoes that sing and scream through the crags and eves of the valley beneath — but the whole island seems to reverberate with the question —

Do you trust me?

You close your eyes and breath. When you open them again, your heartbeat is steady. And when you speak, the rising sun streaks the tips of the saw-toothed peaks in strokes of molten gold. The valleys beneath you conduct your answer into an entire single-syllabled symphony —

Yes.

You feel his arm tighten around your waist, the wind as it tangles soft fingers in your hair. All around you, everything is light, and light, and light.

“Jump!”

You close your eyes, and jump.

-----

footnotes/appendix

uso-uso no mi translates to "lie-lie fruit"; i made it up bc it would be too op to have in the actual animanga i think

the "acts" refer to a classical 3-act structure that most movies/plays/scripts are written in: setup, confrontation, and resolution... with a smattering of other things sprinkled in for ~vibes~

in much of classical japanese and chinese mythology, foxes are associated with trickers and lies, often turning into beautiful women to deceive men, luring them into forests and mountains before taking their lives

the "figure" in the last scene is... can you guess? noland! kudos to anyone who figured it out as they were reading *\ (>o<) /*

did i absolutely take the "do you trust me" line from disney's aladdin??? HELL YEAH i did !!!! tru trust is my kink u__u

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shaunamilfman · 1 year ago

Text

Being Lottie Matthews Controversially Young Girlfriend

Adult Timeline Headcanons

nsfw mention

you and lottie definitely have a meet-cute moment at the farmers market. love at first sight fr she's trying to get you to move in the wellness center within the month. “but y/n if you live in the dorms again you'd be here all the time anyways. Just move in 😁. it's cheaper that way.”

coming home after a long day to see Lottie laying in bed and just burying your face in her cleavage. She's surprised the first time you do it, nearly dropping her book and tries to catch you thinking you've fallen, but she's gotten so used to it now that she doesn't even react. she sets her book down gently on the nightstand and runs her hands soothingly through your hair.

she has absolutely no shame about dating you despite the large age difference. she's hyping you up to her cult wellness center members talking about how good you're doing in college and shit. “yeah 😁 she really aced that exam she was worried about 😁😁”. she got one of those stickers like “my girlfriend goes to x college”.

she def packs you lunch and stuff to take with you. lottie can't cook for shit but she can make a mean sandwich. you're like “i only have one class today.” and she's still shoving snacks into your bag lmao.

im convinced lottie is a bit of a technophobe so she's consulting your ass on everything. you get woken up in the middle of your nap to go turn the wellness center computer off and on again. you spend 20 minutes trying to talk her through sending an email before you give up and type it yourself while she dictates. she looks particularly smug after that one, so you think she may have gotten one over on you. she's so genuine most of the time that you're never quite sure.

Lottie's a lot older than you but I really don't think she'd have all that much sexual experience given her circumstances. if she had slept with others before you it wouldn't have been that all that many. lottie would definitely be aware that she'd be expected to have more experience and is a little hesitant about telling you that she doesn't. point is I mostly just think she'd be very shy and blushy the first few times you had sex.

going along with it once when someone assumes you’re her daughter to try to playfully embarrass her. she just shrugs and makes a note in the back of her mind to kiss you in front of them at some point. some poor cult member walks in on you like two fingers deep in your ‘mom’ and is so traumatized by the ordeal. Lottie's all smiles the whole time. she fr giggled a bit when they left she's so devious.

Lottie mentions movies she liked as a kid and you're off-handedly like “oh I don't think I was alive when that came out.” and she just full on winces. she spirals a bit over it every time she's so dramatic.

Lottie's constantly trying to initiate sex wearing like beautiful and intricate lingerie all the time while you're wearing whatever random shit you happened to have on like "please warn a girl omg". Lottie's ass is still like 😍😍. she does not care in the slightest what your wearing lmao it's on site.

Lottie wears silk pajamas with like robes and shit to sleep. they've got her initials monogrammed on the pocket and she buys you matching ones in your favorite colors. she wouldn't be upset if you didn't wear them but she always looks so excited when you do. she also has like a ridiculously expensive sheet set on her bed. it's soft as hell though you've got to give her that. all that and your little cotton blanket you bring for when she inevitably steals all of the bigger blanket from you in her sleep.

Lottie for sure tries to pay for all of your things. you try to pay for them yourself but she always seems to know. she pops out of nowhere with her debit card just as you're checking out like 😁. Lottie's not paying for your things expecting sexual favors out of it but she'd absolutely receive them. dropping to your knees in front of her after she pays for your textbooks??

she has no idea how much things cost. she's def like “how much could a banana cost? $10?”

the reading glasses stay on during sex. she's so embarrassed the first time you see her with them on but gets over it very quickly when you immediately jump her bones.

Lottie buys you a shit ton of clothes. they're all styles you like, but you can't help but notice they're all heliotrope. you're just like 🙄 whenever she gifts you a new shirt.

grinning ear to ear whenever you introduce your milf girlfriend to your friends. you're so smug about it that it honestly makes lottie a little shy. she def really likes it though she's just always so blushy when you compliment her in any way.

she calls you so many pet names. it's all honey, baby, sweetie, princess, etc with Lottie. going feral over the idea of lottie calling you love.

Lottie's so physically clingy. she just loves laying on top of you with her head against your chest so she can hear your heartbeat. she loves when you play with her hair. she chases your hand with her head like a dog if you try to stop lmao.

you'll catch her just staring at you all the time she has no shame

#yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x reader #minors dni

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

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Hi Hal! First of all, congratulations for reaching 5k followers! Your fanfics are what pushed me further into COD and Cult of Vagabonds turned me into a full on Gaz girlie 💗

With that, I would love to request some sort of boyfriend drabble for Gaz! I remember in some of your asks, you guys would talk about Kyle being a gentleman and just him being a sweet and loving partner in general. So, I was thinking of scenarios with him taking care of reader, maybe he helps her with her skin care routine when she's too tired, or he picks her up and takes her home when she gets drunk (and he goes along with her drunk shenanigans but at the same being the protective, worrywart bf) or (as someone who loves shopping and dressing up) they go on dates and they spoil each other since they know each other's preferences so well, stuff like that hehe.

Again, congratulations on the milestone Hal! Here's to many more celebrations and achievements 💖

—Drunken Sappiness

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You can't say you've ever had a boyfriend as perfect as Kyle.] ❞

You giggle, slurring your words as you get placed into the back seat of a cab.

“I love you s’much, Kyle, y’know that?” The man himself is smiling fondly, heart eyes stuck into his head as he holds the door for a moment before grabbing your legs, pushing them inside. He shakes his head in good-nature.

“I’m flattered, Sweetheart. I love you too, yeah…? Let’s get you home—think you’ve had a bit too much fun tonight.”

Your arm is over your eyes before it’s grabbed, Kyle grunting, “Up you get,” before the world slips and you’re sitting up, belt clicked around your frame by long fingers.

The driver waits patiently as your boyfriend closes the door and jogs to his side, opening and closing it before giving the directions to your shared flat as you lean over into him heavily.

“I like your smile,” you push out, gripping his waist tightly, nuzzling his shoulder.

Kyle watches, face bright and teasing as his arm loops your body to pull you into him. This was turning out to be a good end to the night—he always knew you were a clingy drunk, but this was just sweet.

“Yeah?” He asks, pushing farther on with a smirk as the vehicle turns and continues on. “What else do you like about me, Love?”

“What isn’t there to like?” You hum, eyes blown and half-lidded. You’d crash soon, but Kyle wanted to get you ready for bed before that; at least into some pajamas and get your makeup off. He’d hate for you to wake up uncomfortable.

“Well,” the man teases, “can’t argue there.”

You laugh into him, uttering, “My head’s spinnin’.”

Kyle’s face becomes a bit more understanding, worrying even when he knows it’s normal. “We’ll be back soon, yeah? Get you off to bed—you can tell me about how dashing I am in the morning, okay?”

“Deal,” you whisper, vision blurring as a hard kiss is placed on your head.

The man does as he promised himself he would, and soon after you’re, difficulty, dressed into pj’s, he’s kneeling down as you sit in your vanity seat, spreading micellar water on a cotton pad.

“C’mon, Love, keep those eyes open for me.” The item is moved along your cheeks as your lashes flutter. You’d take a shower in the morning, Kyle just wanted you to get some rest. “There we are, then….Beautiful.”

Humming under your breath, you blink at him as he takes off your mascara, using another pad to not spread the particles around when he starts on the other eye.

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, still under the alcohol’s effects but not lying for a mere moment. “S’good to me.”

The Brit feels his cheeks go hot, clearing his throat at the praise and your sleepy expression.

Lord…you looked adorable.

“I’m a lucky bloke,” he utters to you, standing back up and kissing your forehead. “Couldn’t ask for a better woman to be around.” Kyle huffs a chuckle. “Even when she’s drunk, she’s complimenting me. You’re an ego boost, Love. A dangerous one.”

Even if you only registered half of those words, you still know the way he picks you up and carries you to bed, settling you down before flicking off the lights.

“Water’s on the nightstand—meds, too,” he mutters into your scalp as he slips beside you, pulling the covers up around both of your bodies. “I’ll remind you when you wake up.”

His hand rubs up and down your skin, thumb massaging the flesh in tiny circles that leave your mind purring at the slight pressure. Kyle’s lips are at your hairline, not leaving there as he holds you lightly to him, humming in the back of his throat.

“Love you,” you slur for the millionth time that night.

Kyle has no problem answering for a billionth.

“Love you too, Sweetheart. You go on and sleep now.”

So, with little resistance, you do.

He really was the definition of the perfect boyfriend.

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ablobwhowrites · 21 days ago

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I feel like idw Rodimus, RID sideswipe, tfp smokescreen, TFO bumblebee and tfp knockout and starscream would be best friends that gossip

Like this

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSj65WPb1/

Vehicon m/n jumping off a building and transforming into a jet while drunk on energon

Vehicon m/n and his Best friends running away when the others heard what happened

like honestly they would have a truce for a bit to gossip. Tfo bumblebee is kicking his feet like yapping to the others

Vehicon: “hey have you seen m/n? Lord Megatron is asking for him.”

Vehicon 2 looking over the ledge of the decepticon ship: “um…he jumped”

Vehicon: “HE JUMPED!?! HE DOESNT HAVE A JET MODE YET!”

*five seconds later m/n lands in his jet form* “IM A JET!….” *turns back to his bot mode* “aww man…”

Vehicon m/n is bigger than most m/n’s and y/n’s so he likes to carry them in his servos or put them on his shoulders to no accidentally step on onto one of them (he nearly crushed animal crossing villager y/n and Minecraft story mode m/n once)

Many of the y/n’s and m/n’s tell eachother what they deal with back in their world but vehicon m/n is scared to tell them what happened to him but spider y/n or m/n let him rant about stuff to them, never telling anyone as they went through their canon event and know or can understand vehicon m/n’s pain, spider y/n promised to be a everyone’s hero in their universe even one who isn’t from their world.

Dude I imagine vehicon m/n just seeing splatoon idol m/n or splatoon y/n and is all like “man at least things can’t get weirder” then cult of the lamb y/n comes out of the background

#yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere transformers #male reader #yandere transfomers prime #yandere transformers x reader #transfomers x reader #yandere transformers prime #transformers prime #vehicon m/n

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thelittlestoflives · 10 months ago

Text

Thank You

soooo i sort of have a whole backstory to the Unravelling the Mystery fic and i just thought welllll i might as well post that too lol!! (i actually have lots of parts and stories)

again, very new to fic writing and i've thrown in some y/n lore in there too!! it's so vulnerable and scary to post stuff you've written (again i suck at proofreading so forgive pls)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

sanji x strawhat!reader, or the story of how y/n became a strawhat and gravitated towards the chef

use of YN, afab reader

cw: stuff to do with horrible exes, forced eating of a devil fruit, being severely injured, slight angst to fluff but mostly fluff i think

wc: 2.7k

It was like a ritual. The breathing in the room evening out, slipping out from under the covers and creeping through the halls towards him. His arms were your salvation, every gentle kiss burning your skin with love, each touch so heavenly you could almost believe in a higher power.

You can barely remember how it began. It's like it's just always been this way.

But it wasn't.

Not when you were stuffed in that barrel, just you and the darkness and the splashing of the waves against the wood, the drip drip drip onto your already soaking clothes. You can't remember how you survived it, how you endured the minutes and the hours and the days you remained in there, physical wounds nowhere near the pain of the scarring on your soul.

And like words out of the holy texts, there was light. A piercing, bright light. But unlike the holy texts, soft mutters echoed in your ears.

"Shit. It's a girl."

"Dammit. So, it's not treasure?"

"She's injured."

"How long has she been in there?"

"Why does this always happen to us?"

“Get her out of there, for fuck’s sake! Why are you all just standing around?!”

Just like that, the light vanished and darkness returned.

When you came to you were in some sort of medical infirmary, the light streaming through the windows so intense that you could barely open your eyes. An assortment of smells hit your nose; disinfectant, bleach, salty sea air, and a bowl of rich chicken noodle soup that steamed as it sat on your bedside table.

Maybe that's when it started. The soup. You stared at it for god knows how long, tears streaming down your face at the act of kindness. The trauma of what you'd just been through vanished staring at that bowl, feeling the love of whoever made it poured into it. Your body had been wrapped in bandages and cleaned, and you wore soft pyjamas that weren't your own, your hair had been brushed, and someone had made you fucking chicken noodle soup.

A couple of days went by as your body slowly healed. The only interaction you had was with the ship's doctor as he tried to make you feel comfortable and safe. You didn't see any of the other crew, but each time you woke from a restless, haunted sleep, there was a steaming dish beside you. Before long, you were strong enough to walk around. Chopper held your hand as he led you above deck to meet the crew who sat around the kitchen table.

You felt shy and nervous. Sure, you'd spoken to pirates before, but always in a controlled environment, never on their turf.

But they were vastly different from the pirates you'd encountered, offering easy smiles and gentle words, coaxing you to tell them what had happened to you. You caught eyes with a man with a cigarette hanging casually out his mouth a couple of times, quickly looking away. Was this where it started?

You explained that you're a journalist on your home island. Or rather, were a journalist. Now? You were dust in the wind, not taking any sort of discernable shape, floating with no direction, no intention, nothing. You thought you had it all; a home, a job you loved, family, friends, and someone who you thought was the love of your life. In less than a week, it was gone.

You had been investigating a cult on your island and stumbled across a giant conspiracy involving the World Government. You had written a tell-all piece, ready to blow the whole damn thing wide open. But you made a mistake, you told your then-boyfriend about it. Turns out he wasn't who he said he was, he was one of them. Sent to keep an eye on the local journalists, he’d pretended to fall for you to keep you close. The cult that terrorised truth seekers from the shadowy underworld was an unstoppable and dangerous force and he was one of them.

They'd captured you, and when the darkness was lifted there was no heavenly bright light. Just a dank basement dimly lighting up your boyfriend's face, grinning from ear to ear as he told you in laborious detail what was about to happen to you. You would eat a Devil Fruit, they would drug you, and you would be forced to do their bidding. No choice, no control, this was it. They’d already done this to every other person who had been investigating them. They had a small army now, he informed you. An army of ‘nosey bastards who didn’t know what they were getting themselves into’. Despite your pleading, he laughed and said that you better get ready for what’s about to happen.

And so they did it. They had it all figured out. They forced you to eat the Devil Fruit, and as its powers flowed through your veins you realised that perhaps they didn’t have it all figured out after all. They didn’t account for the fact that you would be damned rather than be bested by a man.

Your powers erupted out of you, flowing with such a force that all you could do was let out a silent scream, as the shadows wrapped themselves around the foundations of the building they held you in and it collapsed into rubble.

An arm roughly grabbed you, pulling you out of the wreckage. It had stuffed you in a barrel, and an unfamiliar voice hissed the words: “It’s better if they think you’re dead. If you survive, never return.”

As soon as the last word of your tale left your mouth, a straw hat was placed on your head, and that’s how Luffy obtained another stray to add to his collection. You became the Strawhats’ Chronicler, your job was to forever immortalise the crew’s journey towards the One Piece and to document how Luffy became the King of the Pirates. Although it was a difficult adjustment at first, you became fast friends with the crew. Robin in particular was a huge help for you, as it was she who understood your plight the best.

Sanji kept his distance at first. You were so beautiful that he knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from flirting, and that was probably the last thing you needed right now, so he resigned himself to being helpful in the background, finding out information about you from Robin and Nami and incorporating it into his cooking. But the two of you were like magnets, unexplainably drawn to one another and soon neither of you would be able to stay away.

You were ripped from your nightmare with such force that you shot upright, sweat dripping down your back. It was the same as always, but tonight you didn’t want to wake up Robin with your tears.

And that’s how you found yourself in the kitchen, face-to-face with a certain chef. He tried not to make a fuss as he saw your hunched, small frame in the doorway, tear-stained cheeks and sleepy eyes. Really, he did. But he’s only a man, after all. He gave you a warm hug and sat you down, making his own special sleepy tea (“I promise you, you will be knocked out after this. No bad dreams for our sweet Chronicler!”).

“I meant to say thank you,” you said quietly as you sipped your tea.

He arched an eyebrow, a gentle blush on his cheeks. “For?”

“The food. When I was in the infirmary, your food made me feel��” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed.

“Made you feel what?”

You look up at him, an amused expression on his face.

“Your chicken noodle soup made me cry,” you admit softly. “It was the first thing I saw when I woke up, and it’s my comfort food. And I cried. I was so touched that I forgot everything else. I can’t thank you enough for that. I could’ve lost my mind, but that small act grounded me.”

The blush was no longer gentle but furious as his eyes diverted from your face. “Ah. Well, it’s an honour to cook for a pretty girl like you, and even more so that it makes you feel something. So really, I should thank you for your high praises.”

Your mouth twitched into a smile. “No, thank you!”

His mouth echoed yours. “No, no, thank you!”

And you continued like that, thanking each other more and more dramatically through laughs. The silliness wore off, and Sanji’s face turned slightly more serious.

“Look, I wanted to say something to you too,” he began. “I’m sorry that your ex betrayed you like that. No beautiful lady should ever have to suffer at the hands of a man, much less a man who should love her.”

You blink, suddenly remembering why it was you were here in the first place.

“It’s okay,” you say with a small shrug. “Well, no, it’s not okay but… I dunno. What else can I say? ‘My ex gave me up to an evil cult and altered my life forever and because of him my family think I’m dead and I didn’t even get the t-shirt’? I appreciate that though. I appreciate all of you.”

He blew air out of his nose softly as you tried to make light of what was clearly a horrific situation.

“Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.” “Thank you, Sanji, same goes for you,” you smile.

He grins back. “No, no, no. Thank you!”

You laugh and lightly hit his arm. “Cut it out or we’ll be here all night!”

His grin widens. “Maybe that’s what I’m trying to do.”

And maybe that’s where it starts. Those late nights in the kitchen when you both couldn’t sleep, sharing easy conversations and trying to make the other laugh. Warm mugs of tea and knees touching each other under the table. A bubble you created with just the two of you, a sacred space, with none the wiser as to these secret meetings of yours.

It would become routine for a couple of weeks. The nightmares jolt you awake, so you pad through to the kitchen for tea, smiles, and chats.

“You know, I reckon you’re the beating heart of this crew,” you say as you blow on your tea to cool it down.

Sanji scoffs in derision.

“No, I’m serious! If Luffy is the soul, then you’re the heart. I see everything you do for the crew, Sanj. You’ve got a kind soul.”

You wished you could frame the look on his face to cherish forever. A mix of gratitude, embarrassment, confusion, denial, and something else. Something you couldn’t quite place.

“In saying that,” you continue, sipping on the now-cool beverage. “You look tired. If you’re looking after everyone else, who’s looking after you?”

He froze.

Your eyes are trained on his. “Look, there’s a reason we’re both here in the dead of night. You can’t sleep either, can you?”

He looks down.

��Let me in, Sanj. Let me look after you.”

And he does. He tells you everything, and now the bond runs so deep you’re afraid. After all, the last person you fell in love with lied about it and broke your heart. You couldn’t take much more. But this was different, somehow.

Maybe it started the first night you slept in his arms.

It was just a normal night. As usual, a nightmare ripped you from sleep. It was a particularly bad one this time, your cheeks wet with tears as you made your way to the kitchen. But when you got there, the lights were off. Panic clawed up through your chest. You’d come to rely upon the chef in the dead of night, and now that he wasn’t here, you were scared to face your demons alone. So, fuck it, you thought. I’ll just go to him.

The men’s quarters were loud. Zoro’s snores cracked through the room, and general grunts and smells and sleepy noises were prevalent, but it didn’t matter. He was there, and he would make you feel okay again.

And once you’d crawled in beside him, and his arms automatically wrapped around you, you knew that there was no going back. You woke up in your own bed, having slept soundly for the first time in weeks.

That night when you met in the kitchen, there was a slight awkwardness that hadn’t been there before.

He cleared his throat. “Did you, uh, did you sleep okay last night?”

“I did. Best I have in a while, really. I’m so sorry if I overstepped or-”

“No! No, I’m sorry for not being here at our usual time-”

“Don’t be stupid!”

“Thank you for-”

You both stopped and he cleared his throat again, cheeks bright red.

“Well, honestly? That’s the best I’ve slept in a while too. So, thanks. And I…” He paused as if building up some courage. “I wondered if you would maybe want to… Do it again sometime. But, you don’t have to and I don’t want you to feel like I’m coming on to you because I know you don’t want, like, romance or anything because of the situation with your ex and-” He began to ramble anxiously, bringing a small smile to your lips.

“Sanji, Sanji, stop! It’s okay! I… I would like that a lot. And so thank you.”

He stopped blabbering and clasped his hands together. “Really?” There was a sparkle in his eyes.

“Really,” you nodded.

You both built a little routine together. If Sanji wasn’t already in the kitchen, then you’d go to him. Otherwise, you’d meet in the kitchen for your cup of tea, before retiring to his hammock in the men’s quarters. The noises of the sleeping crew around you didn’t bother you at all as you lay entwined in Sanji’s long arms.

One night, you made your way into the kitchen and stopped quietly in the doorway. Sanji had fallen asleep at the table waiting for you. You took in his sleeping figure, the way his sleep shirt clung to his arms and revealed some of his chest. His face was relaxed and peaceful, and god, was it beautiful. Shit, you thought. I’m in way too deep now.

You gently woke him up, and the look in his eyes when he saw your face sent your stomach dropping and mind shortcircuiting.

“It’s you,” he whispered.

You nodded. “It’s me, Sanj. Let’s go to bed, hmm?”

He had that look on his face again, the one from before when you couldn’t figure it out. But now? Now you knew what it was. It was love. It was adoration. It was ‘you’re my comfort, my safety, you feel like home and I’m at peace’. He stood up and pulled you to his chest, groaning softly as he rested his chin on top of your head. You looked up at him, fondness in your eyes.

“Sanj?” You whispered.

“Yes, my darling YN?” His sleepy voice and eyes were too much. You stood up on your tiptoes and pressed a soft, swift kiss to his lips.

He stiffened, eyes wide.

“Are you sure?” He whispered.

You nodded.

His face brightened and burst into a lovesick grin, one hand settling at your waist, the other snaking up to hold the back of your head. He nudged his nose against yours as your lips met, the world melting around you both. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“I want to promise something to you right now,” he murmured. “I promise to protect you, to keep you safe, I promise I will never do anything that could possibly hurt you, and I will hunt down anyone who does. Thank you, YN, for showing me what love could be.”

“No, Sanj… Thank you for showing me.”

His eyes were brimming with tears too, but he laughed softly, unable to resist the urge to say:

“No, no. Thank you.”

And with that, you went to the safety of Sanji’s hammock, entangled with one another as you pressed burning kisses to each others’ skin, his heavenly touch making you forget what life was like without him. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you know this will never end.

#one piece #sanji oneshot #sanji drabble #sanji x reader #sanji x yn #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x you #sanji x you #op x reader #one piece x reader #strawhat reader #vinsmoke sanji x yn #vinsmoke sanji #my writing

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coupleoffanfics · 4 months ago

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How would Batsis! y/n become a villain?

I found this while trying to clean up my writing drafts. Not sure when I wrote this, but I decided to post it because why not.

Jerome Route

If she had no friends, that connection with Barbara, or relationship with Jeremiah then Jerome would have a considerably easier time charming y/n. The emotional neglect from the family makes her desperate for any sort of contention leading her right into the hands of Jerome.

The family would believe that y/n can be saved, but she sees them trying to save face. Trying to stop her from telling Jerome all the big bad Batman's secrets by saying they're sorry and that they care. She doesn't end up telling him about their identities because someone has to keep Gotham safe. She's with Jerome, but she doesn't agree with everything he does.

y/n might purposefully sabotage Jerome's schemes. It's not because she cares for the family, no. It's for Batman and his Robins to keep innocent people safe. She keeps the family and their personas separate. At least she'll try to see them as separate.

Her logic is backwards and hypocritical, but frankly she doesn't care enough anymore. All that matters is Jerome's love. Who needs friends or family when you can have Jerome?

y/n and Jerome probably argued over wedding ideas.. Jerome wants a circus theme with a replica of his mom as a pinata. While y/n wants a traditional, elegant wedding. They compromise by letting y/n have that traditional vibe with the ceremony and Jerome can go batshit with the reception.

Jerome never put so much thought into something before and he never wants to do that again.

The Batfamily was not invited of course. The family most likely hears about it or even sends wedding photos. y/n probably has Joker or some other villain walk her down the aisle. Bruce sulks about it for months.

Post-Spray Jeremiah Route

If y/n had no one else besides Jeremiah and her moral compass was cracked. Then of course she's almost going to believe everything he tells her.

There's no denying that Gotham is a modern day Babylon. Yeah, the world would be better without it. Maybe it would be a good thing if we do get rid of it. Yeah, we could rebuild it!

But she'll run into the same problem of not fully following Jeremiah's ideology. At least how he goes about obtaining the goal of cleaning up Gotham. The cult stuff freaks her out a lot. When his followers bow down to her and praise her, she'll tell them to stop but he orders them to do that.

After expressing her discomfort over the cult and the followers' behavior, Jeremiah will distance her from it. Having her become sheltered in the bunker or a manor hidden away in the woods. Meaning the only relationship she can have with anyone who isn't Jeremiah is Ecco. Even then Ecco is just another follower that was trained to be a guard dog.

This version of y/n wouldn't be too involved compared to the Jerome route. But if Jeremiah was caught and sent to Arkham, y/n is sneaking in to break him out. It could be by disguising herself as a guard or forcefully entering it with full confidence.

The family would try to reason with her if only they could actually talk to her. Again since she's not hands on it's a rarity for them to see her.

The few times they've met face to face was when their hero personas. Jeremiah and Ecco were busy fighting off the others, giving them time to talk. If they try to convince her to leave him, she'll either ignore it or tell them about how he's all she ever had. The only family member that could possibly break through to y/n would probably be Jason or maybe even Barbara.

Jeremiah and y/n get offended when they're compared to Joker and Harley. They'll clearly be different because they have a healthy and loving relationship. People probably come up with the comparison because of his physical appearance and he hates it. They're not wrong when they say their relationship is loving, but it being healthy is debatable.

y/n is more than willing to kill or torture someone if they were to do anything to Jeremiah. Though once again her hands are off, but doesn't mind getting her hands dirty.

y/n is the type to write like love letters and put them into Jeremiah's pocket before he leaves. He's in the middle of fighting Batman and suddenly a pink paper with a red heart border falls out of his pocket. Seeing it makes him scramble to grab it and shove it back into his pocket. He'll read it later.

This y/n might live a more semi-normal life, but probably struggles with loneliness and depression. Since Jeremiah is often working and Ecco is Ecco.

Sprayed Route

The moment y/n realizes what is happening she goes to Jeremiah and contacts Barbara who informs the family. They'd probably find a cure, but for the sake of story and angst let's say they can't.

Everyone is just forced to watch y/n become what essentially a Joker lookalike. Or she could look completely the same, doesn't really matter because they'll all be horrified by the drastic change.

She'd use the knowledge of their identities against them. Dangling it above their heads, but it isn't long before they realize that she isn't going to say anything. Oh, but she's definitely telling Jeremiah all about this. Of course he swears to never tell anyone and he might start working with the family to lock y/n up.

Not only was she endangering herself, but others as well. The best thing for everyone is to lock her up.

If she learns about Jeremiah working against her. She'd be so heartbroken. Violently throwing and smashing everything in the room she was in before coming up with an idea. 'He'd never be against me, they probably forced him to work for them. It's all their fault. They always ruin everything, but I won't let them take him.'

Out of all of the other possible routes this y/n would be the most vindictive. She'll guilt trip the family with her sob stories of their neglect, their personas won't won't react. But she knows they'll be thinking about what she said hours later. She'll spit out insults and won't hold back fighting.

Her once passive and defensive fighting style has completely flipped to almost recklessly aggressive. The only way she'll stop fighting back is if they restrain or knock her out.

Arkham isn't hard for her to adjust to. She'll explain to her few visitors (Jeremiah, Barbara, and Alfred) that it reminds her of Wayne manor. But less lonely.

Barbara and Alfred are the only family members she'll allow to visit her. As she still has a bit of a soft spot for them. Will not admit it, but she's always pleasantly surprised when Babs visits her or Alfred sends her some of his cooking. It almost makes her tear up and feel immense sadness. Just almost.

Probably besties with Riddler or something. Most Arkham inmates know of the name Jeremiah Valeska by how much y/n will mindlessly ramble about him. They also know not to mess with him because they'll be put on top of her shit list.

Masterlist Here

#x reader #batfamily x batsis reader #batsis reader #batfamily x reader #jerome valeska x reader

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madhatterbri · 5 months ago

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Deal | D.P. Part 2

Summary: Thank u for taking my request for Deal. I loved it! Are u able to do a pt 2 where Damian confronts Liv to warn her once and for all to back off or else but she doesn’t & that’s when reader attacks her from behind. If not that’s okay:) Thank u again!

Author's Note: I'm glad you liked it. ❤️

Requested by anon

Damian Priest Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @plentyoffandoms @mrsarcherofinfamy @brideofinfamy

The working relationship with Damian was interesting. She followed behind him whenever he called for her. A cloak dawned on her head and body to keep everyone away from her. The locker room was spooked by Uncle Howdy's faction. He wanted to keep it that way.

One day, he would like to gain other disciples, but for now, he was happy with his followers. The band of misfits that were now a part of his little family. Uncle Howdy was especially happy with Y/N. Her past with Liv Morgan afforded him a rare opportunity at a shot for the championship. She was specifically instructed to watch for Damian's weaknesses to use against him for when the time came.

"You don't.... talk much, do you?" Damian asked her. He noticed that she wouldn't speak. Only followed orders, whether it be his or Uncle Howdy.

"I talk when I must," Y/N answered.

"All right, great, listen. She is still interfering with Judgment Day business. I need you to remind her what happens if she keeps putting her nose where it doesn't belong. You understand?"

Y/N nodded and stepped away. Damian turned around, but she was gone. He sighed and rubbed his head on frustration. It was tricky to work with someone who did a complete 180 of who they used to be. Hopefully, he didn't make a mistake in picking her.

Damian ran into Liv after she made another pass at Dominik. The current leader of Judgment Day knew he had to put a stop to this once and for all.

"Yo, Liv, can we talk?" Damian asked. Liv stopped and smiled at him. They faced each other. "This stuff gotta stop. One way or another,"

"Daddy doesn't tell me to stop," she giggled and crossed her ankles. She bit her lip flirtatiously. "And he is a big enough man to tell me what he wants,"

"Stay away from him if you don't want any trouble," he threatened.

"Trouble? Do you mean with Y/N? I beat her ass so hard she left with an injury. She came back, and now she is in a weird cult. I think I will take my chances with her," she laughed and stepped inside the locker room. Liv set her belt down and started to get ready for her match. The lights suddenly turned off.

Liv wasn't sure what was going on. A kendo stick suddenly broke over her head. A loud scream filled the room. The kendo stick came down on her relentlessly until the holder found it useless.

The stick was replaced with bumps and punches. A few well placed kicks even connected to her.

"Knock it off. What is going on in here?" Adam Pierce yelled. The light turned on to reveal Y/N. "Get out of here!"

Y/N smiled and lowered her cloak. She looked down at the injured Liv Morgan. The injured woman whined and gripped her shoulder. She could taste her revenge and she wanted to enjoy it.

"See ya, Liv Morgan,"

#fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe fanfiction #damian priest fanfiction #damian priest fanfic #damian priest x y/n #damian priest x reader #damian

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eaglyn · 1 year ago

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Because you stuck around | Gojo Satoru x reader college au

Summary: you had been Gojo's only die-hard loyal friend in his so far twenty years of life, but it took saving him from a quarter-life crisis for him to finally admit to you just how precious you were to him Not proofread bc we're lazy Decided to switch it up a little from the usual Genshin stuff

You first met the man child when he was only a child, as your parents were great friends of his parents, which meant you two would get a whole lot of play dates as kids.

Whenever he looked into your eyes even back then, you felt like you were frozen in place by those radiant blues. There was also something about the way he looked at you, and only you. For a while you felt as if you weren't the only one who's stomach filled with butterflies when you gazed at one another.

Eventually, he got older and achieved a great amount of fame via all his amazing accomplishments, and also good looks. While he never had a weird phase in puberty regarding looks, he definitely did have a personality change.

All the praise went to his head, so much so that whenever he talked to you, it was always just about how awesome he was. In middle school, he had his own little cult, or gang of devoted followers, who by themselves could be considered the cool kids, but only when Satoru wasn't around.

He turned into one of the most insufferable of egotistical bullies, but he didn't bully you, and you stuck around. You always did.

In high school, you two went to separate high schools that were on the same street, right across from one another. Girls from your school would often sneak into his school during lunch break just to get a glimpse of him in the flesh, while you just rolled your eyes at the whole situation.

Still, you were there if he ever needed to boast about all the love letters he had received that week, or tell someone about all the details of his new girlfriend. You stuck around, even though it was a type of thankless devotion. It was a well known fact that you were his only long time good friend, so while many girls envied you and stared daggers at you in the halls or on the streets, other girls did anything they could to be friends with you, just to get information about Satoru.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't at least a little bit happy with your popularity.

Things changed when you two reached college. Both you and Satoru moved across the country to attend a prestigious college. During the first year, he got to live in his very own three bedroom mansion, while you just shared a dorm with three other girls, which you didn't mind, but it wasn't exactly luxury.

Your friendship was only being held together by the feelings you still had left for him after all this time, as now, he barely even talked to you anymore. He was way too caught up in his lavish lifestyle, blasting mountains of money on girls and partying each week, and steadily failing all his classes at the same time.

Still, you stuck around and watched over him from afar, but you could only roll your eyes and shake your head at what he was doing with his life. That brings you to this summer.

You had the highest grades from your entire year in your college, while it wasn't hard to guess that Satoru's were the lowest. You became quite popular, as many people asked you to help them with things they didn't understand, as well as just taking advice from you in general.

You'd never have expected a depressed looking Gojo Satoru to approach you one day, asking for help with dark circles around his eyes, messed up hair and clothes, and a look in his eyes that indicated a mental breakdown. Still, the way he looked at you was the same as back then.

"Y/n... can you please help me improve my grades? If I continue like this, I'll be kicked out. Please, I'll do anything." He said to you. If it were any other person with his lifestyle begging for help, you may have just laughed in their face and told them to change life paths entirely, but it was Satoru. You could only nod and offer a comforting hug.

You contacted his parents regarding his issues, and while they were furious at him, they couldn't stop thanking you for sticking around and helping him. They arranged for you to stay at his college house from now on, just so you could keep a closer eye on him as you two worked through his quarter life crisis together.

By the time you reached Christmas, his grades had improved majorly, and he was a completely changed person. He had gotten back his cheerful, bubbly personality that you once knew him for, and while he wasn't blatantly rude and egotistical, he continued to play into the act, partially as a joke, and also because old habits die hard. And you were the one to thank for this change for him, because as always, you stuck around.

This was his first time in so many years that he didn't spend Christmas partying, but instead with you, and only you, enjoying all the amazing foods you made, and otherwise curling up on the couch with you as you two binged movies.

You don't even know how many romcoms you two had gone through the past couple days, but while it was entertaining, you couldn't help but envy the people in those movies, always getting their happily ever after with the one they love, while you were just here, raising a man child that you had been in love with since you were two.

Little did you know that when you'd be opening your present from him on Christmas Eve, you'd find amongst all the amazing things he bought you, a hand-written letter, and that he'd be watching you anxiously as you opened and read it, praying to everything both up above and down below that you wouldn't react by ripping it up and tossing it on the floor.

My dear Y/n, This is my 89th attempt at writing this letter, but I'm afraid if I tried to tell you what I want to say in outspoken words, it would be even worse than this. Please don't hate me. I want to confess to you something that I was too scared to say out loud, so here goes. I know I might have never shown it, but I've loved you ever since we were just little kids. I know I was a really bad friend to you growing up, but you always continued to stick around, no matter how insufferable I got. I could never understand it. I was the one who was famous, the one who was deemed perfect by everyone on the outside, but it was you who turned out so amazing, while I just became a wreck, leaving you, the only one who stuck around after all this time, to fix me. I'm eternally grateful for everything you've done for me, and I wish I could repay you. I wish that some day you could find it in you to reciprocate my love for you, but even if you can't, I will always wait for you, just as you did for me, as a way of paying off my debt. Keep in mind that I've never actually confessed to anyone, as I never truly loved anyone that I've been with in the past, though you probably knew that by yourself. With sincere love, Satoru. P.S. I hope you didn't die of cringe by the time you reached the end of this.

You giggled as you read the line on the bottom of the paper, looking up at Satoru afterwards, and he seemed like a lost puppy with a begging look in his eyes. Even the time he came asking for your help, he didn't look like he was so hopeful.

"I didn't die of cringe, as you can see." You said with a smirk on your face, taking all of his constipated facial expression in as you kept eye contact for a long time period.

"...and?" He broke the silence after about fifteen seconds, gulping right after.

"I love you too, you idiot." You said, catching him as he practically flew into your arms. You had been waiting for this moment for way too long.

He leaned down and softly pressed his lips against yours, stealing your breath for a short time before pulling away after a few seconds. His cocky persona had returned.

"Why did I ever have my doubts? I'm awesome!" He said, making you giggle.

"What a man child." You shook your head before kissing him again, just enjoying the romcom moment you had been desiring for so long.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #anime #confessions #reader insert #female reader #college #college life #romance #first kiss #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #childhood friends #fluff #fanfic

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mothmanssweetsucculentass · 8 months ago

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BEN Drowned headcanons

Finally I’m getting around to posting my current standing BEN Drowned HCs! The ask I got a couple weeks ago definitely motivated me to finish this finally lmao.

Trigger warnings for: Mentions of death, manipulation, suicide, drowning, violence, and the general mature stuff you should expect from the adult side of the Creepypasta fandom. There are NO CENSORS BEYOND THIS POINT. Read at your own risk.

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ageless/has kinda always existed since the internet has been publicly accessible

It/it’s pronouns, occasionally caught using they/them and even rarer he/him

Manipulative as fuck

Malewhore mansplain manipulate

Literally makes up a huge chunk of its personality idk what to tell you

Will doxx you

No seriously if you catch its attention you’re getting stalked

Stalks potential victims through the internet

Finds potential victims on forums and the “dark web”

Often goes after people who are heavily depressed and/or suicidal

Thinks it’s funny telling people to off themselves

Like fr its favorite hobby is basically being an average redditor

Probably the WORST mf to date out of all of my interpretations of Creepypasta characters

Gives zero shits about anyone besides itself

Seriously it does not care about you Y/N RUN!!!!!

Lies lies lies omg loves lying so much

Lies to get what it wants

Master “hacker”

If it’s stalking you say goodbye to any and all digital important things you have

Say goodbye to your laptop too

And switch

And iPhone

It’s all getting bricked by BEN if it finds it funny to do so

And it probably will

You like sleep? Too bad

Woe, nightmares be upon ye

Gaslighting KING. Deletes messages between you and people in your life on purpose

Has extensive knowledge of internet culture and video games

Knows every meme ever

Has created most of the “video game” Creepypastas as their own personal “proxies”

Sonic.exe, Smile.jpeg, The Princess, etc, anything inhabiting digital media that torments people, BEN is the one behind it all

Finds friendships useless but respects Slenderman enough to continue being a proxy for it

Got bored of tormenting the other pastas pretty fast, generally avoids them unless slender tasks it with giving specific info pulled from the web to the other pastas (news articles, police reports, locations, etc)

Out of all my HC characters BEN is probably the most serious/grimdark/gritty, I prommy not all my blorbos are as mature and serious as BEN

Takes on the form of a late teenage boy’s body, waterlogged pale skin, constantly glitching and dripping water. Speaks in at least five different voices/tones at once, including robotic AI voices

Only physically manifests to scare the fuck out of people

Stans Hatsune Miku

SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!

All these HCs are for BEN! Not Ben!!!!

Because after much deliberation I have decided that yeah I kinda do want some of the old BEN middle school me liked to fuck around with. So without further ado, here’s my Ben headcanons:

Created BEN as an AI program for when he can’t be at his computer

BEN is kinda like their “avatar” for the internet

He/they pronouns

Roughly about 20 years old, give or take a few years

Died in the mid 2000s in college

Went back home one weekend to pick up some furniture and whoopsies dad sacrificed me to the cult I tried to escape from

Obviously had a not so great home life. Chose the furthest college on purpose just to get away

His father never saw him as anything more than a bargaining chip and pawn for the cult of the moon children

The sacrifice and his death were what caused the mental split between himself and the AI

One half of him remained tethered to his physical corpse, the other half manifested itself as what is now the BEN AI

He can be in two places at once technically

He’s unsure if they count as two people or one. On the one hand, BEN is a manifestation of his apathy and agony from his death and did come from his own mind. On the other hand, BEN is able to function completely independently of Ben

After years of practice and honing their technical skills, Ben was able to fine tune the BEN AI into what it is today

I mean hell, the BEN AI wasn’t always this powerful and organized. The first few years after Ben’s death, he could barely get ahold of it

Sort of??? A ghost?? Like a fusion between a ghost and zombie

Like is obviously a corpse and can kinda go in and out of corporeal and non corporeal form

Has the skin tone and feel of a freshly drowned corpse, but isn’t constantly dripping water

Eyes constantly leak and drip with blood tho. Tissues are scattered all around his room with his futile attempts to keep the blood tears at bay. Face has a “pinker” color compared to the rest of his body thanks to how many times they’ve wiped and smeared the blood around

First they take your eyes, then they carve symbols you don’t understand into your flesh, and then they drown you. Smh

They’re much more faded now, but Ben has the scars of symbols the moon children cult used during his sacrifice

Similar in behavior/personality as BEN but toned way the fuck down

Like. Still enjoys tormenting people but can (sort of) empathize

Still an asshole tho

And a pervert

And a stoner

And a gamer

He’s a discord Reddit mod irl. Scummy guy tbh

Not afraid of water, just afraid of water damage on their equipment

Lives in the mansion basement

Hasn’t seen sunlight since 2004

Introverted as fuck

Prefers to be physically manifested, leaves all the digital movement to the BEN AI but can enter technology if need be

Cheats in any and all video games you play against him in. Hacker aficionado

Y’all know those fits people used to wear in the 2010s of like, cargo shorts and legend of Zelda t shirts? Almost exclusively his fashion sense

Like yeah he does have the link getup but finds it pretty tedious to get into

Does enjoy scene fashion quite a bit tho

And EDM

electronic stuff in general is his favorite shit ever

Him and the BEN AI never physically kill people, just manipulates them into offing themselves

He’s a weak motherfucker he physically cannot kill somebody

Emotionally tho he would mass murder if he could

The one thing him and Jeff can agree on

Bi, and aro. Kinda too horny and despondent to society to care for someone emotionally for more than twelve seconds

Could definitely stand to make a few friends though, and isn’t opposed to conversation if he ever leaves his gamer basement

Currently friends with EJ, Jane, Liu, Nina, and Helen

Has a tolerable relationship/mutual respect for Masky, Hoody, Jason, Puppeteer, and Slenderman

Doesn’t get along with/hates Jeff, LJ, and Clockwork

Sally sees him as an older brother figure. Unfortunately he’s a bad influence on the kid and also has no idea how to look after a child, he just kinda goes “fuck it we ball” anytime someone puts them in charge of Sally. Has taught her every swear and slur known to man. Thinks it’s hilarious to put her on the mic in gamer lobbies

“Hey dude check this out” proceeds to show you the nastiest shock video ever

Semi-fluent in Japanese despite being whiter than paper. Unsurprisingly a weeb

If he owns a body pillow he keeps it hidden with his life. They won’t be caught dead cuddling up to something like that at night

The mansion’s go to IT guy. Against his will but unfortunately if he wants to continue living in the mansion (or living in general) he has to take this role lest slenderman eviscerates him for defiance

Both him and the BEN AI have a major superiority complex, he thinks he’s way better than everyone else and is the cockiest bastard mf on the planet

Stans Hatsune Miku

#ben drowned #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta #headcanons #ben drowned headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta hcs #ben drowned creepypasta #Ben drowned hcs

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mommymlkrs · 2 years ago

Text

~ You Can’t Escape Destiny ~

~ Summary: Sam, Dean, and Y/n come across a profit writing books word for word off of their lives. They seek out the writer and he tells them something they may not have wanted to hear. Do they really want to try and escape destiny though?

~ Pairings: Sam Winchester x Fem Reader

~ Warnings: Smut, this is also very long.

*Based off of Season 4 Episode 18* *Spoilers*

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The bell dings as Sam and Dean enter the comic book store after being sent on a possible hunt by Castiel. They both make their way to the guy at the front counter in their black and white suits posing as FBI agents.

“Uh can I help you?” The worker says confused.

“Sure hope so, agents DeYoung and Shaw, just need to ask you a few questions.” Dean holds up his badge.

“See anything strange in the building the last couple of days?” Sam pipes in.

“Like what?”

“Strange noises? Any skittering in the walls? kind of like rats?”

“And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?” The guy asks suspiciously.

“What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops in temperature?” Sam keeps nagging.

The worker looks like the lightbulb in his head suddenly flickered on as a smile creeps on his face.

“I knew it! You guys are LARP-ing, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me.” Dean says offended.

“You’re fans!”

“Fans of what?”

“What is LARP-ing?” They both question.

“Like you don’t know.” Still finding a bright smile on his face, Sam and Dean both look at him with confusing looks.

“Live-Action role playing, and pretty hardcore too!” He exclaims pointing towards their suits making them both look down.

“Sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You guys are asking questions like the building is haunted. Like those guys from the books. Oh what are their names..” He explains as he tries to remember.

“Supernatural.” The guy recalls as Sam and Dean are both utterly confused.

“Two guys use fake Id's with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires." He tells them. Sam and Dean both give each other confusing looks.

"What are their names? Uhh, Steve and Dirk? Sal and Dane?"

"Sam and Dean?" Sam questions.

"That's it!"

"You're saying this is a book?"

"Books, it was a series." He corrects.

"Didn't sell a lot of copies though, kind of an underground cult following."

"Let's see uhh" The worker jumps up and searches for the series within his store. Both Sam and Dean follow as he searches through the bargain bin.

"Oh yeah, that's the first one I think." He hands the book to Dean."

"Supernatural by Carver Edlund." Dean reads the title continuing when he flips the book over.

"Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths."

"Give me that." Sam grabs the book from Dean frantically scanning the book.

"We're gonna need all the copies of Supernatural you got."

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Back at the motel, Sam is seated at a desk researching on his computer, Dean is sitting on one bed reading one of their new found books, and Y/n is lying on her stomach on the other bed already starting the second in the series.

"This is freaking insane. How's this guy know all this stuff?" Dean perks up.

"You got me." Sam replies.

"everything is in here. I mean everything. To the racist truck to me having sex. I'm full frontal in here." Dean explains.

"Those were some of the best parts." Y/n chimes in joking. Both Sam and Dean look at Y/n with weird looks. Although Y/n never takes her eyes away from the words on the page she can just imagine their faces so she smirks.

"How come we haven't heard of them before?" Dean says Ignoring Y/n's comment.

"They're pretty obscure. I mean, almost zero circulation. Uhh started in 05. Publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And the last one, 'No Rest for the Wicked ends with you going to hell." Sam faces the laptop to Dean once he sits down next to him.

"Well, I reiterate. Freaking insane. Oh and check it out, there's actually fans. Not many of them, but still. Did you read this Sam?"

"Yup."

"Really? Oh my god, you guys are like famous!" Y/n gets up to look over Dean's shoulder at the laptop.

"For fans, they do complain a lot. Listen to this. Simpatico says 'The demon story line is trite, clichéd and overall craptastic.' Yeah well screw you Simpatico, we lived it."

Y/n starts to laugh and points to the screen to read it out.

"There are Sam girls, Dean girls and Sam / Dean fans.”

"What does that mean?" Dean asks.

"As in.. Together." Answers Sam.

"Like together together?"

"Yeah."

"They do know we're brothers right?" Dean says wide eyed.

"It doesn't seem to matter."

"Oh come on. That’s just sick."

"This just keeps getting better and better." Y/n giggles.

"Oh don't worry Y/n, there's some of you too." Sam smirks.

Y/n goes wide eyed and her face heats up in embarrassment.

"I take it back, this is definitely too weird."

"Oooh look at that, 'Y/n and Sam ge-" Y/n shuts the laptop closed immediately and releases a breath she didn't know she was holding while Dean chuckles at her action.

"We gotta find this Carver Edlund."

"But how?" Y/n questions Sam.

"I don't know. No tax records, no known address. Looks like Carver Edlund is a pen name."

"Someone's gotta know who he is." Dean replies.

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"So you published the Supernatural books?" Sam questions the woman.

"Yup, gosh these books. You know they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap."

Both Sam and Dean give Y/n side glances knowing that's all Y/n ever reads.

"What?" Y/n whispers looking back and forth between them.

"Well, we're hoping that our article can shine a light on an underappreciated series." Sam looks back to the woman.

"Yeah, if we got a little bit of good press, then maybe we could start publishing again."

"No, no, no, no. God no. I mean why would you wanna do that? You know, it's such a complete series... What with Dean going to hell and all." Dean tries to explain.

"Oh my god, that was one of my favourite ones! Because Dean was so strong and sad and brave, and Sam, I mean, in ‘Heart’, when Sam had to kill Madison, the first girl since Jessica he really loved.." She says so excitedly.

"Totally agree, and Y/n, right guys? Personally I think she was one of the best characters." Y/n says trying not to be left out.

"Yeah.. I mean she could definitely use some character growth but she added to the story." Y/n was definitely offended by that, but the woman continued.

"I really wish I could've seen what happened with her and Sam though."

"Her and Sam?" Sam questioned her statement not understanding.

"Yeah, you know, there was definitely something between them. You guys finished the books right?"

Both Y/n and Sam's faces started to heat up trying to look anywhere but at the people in the room.

"Yeah, yeah, totally! Great books." Dean chimes in.

"How do I know you 3 are legit? Hm?" She points a finger at them.

"Oh trust me, we're legit."

"Well I don't want any smart ass article making fun of my boys." She sits down behind her desk.

"No, no, no." The 3 quickly say in sync.

"We would never." Y/n adds.

"We are actually uhm big fans, read the books cover to cover."

"What's the year and model of the car?" Clearly trying to test them.

"1967 Chevy Impala." Dean says like a proud dad.

"What's May 2nd?"

"That's my-" Y/n quickly shoves Sam's foot.

"Uhh that's Sam's birthday." Sam says correcting his mistake.

"January 24th is Dean's." Dean quickly slides that in there.

"And (your birthday) is Y/n's, i-if you wanted to know."

"Sam's score on the LSAT?" Both Y/n and Dean look at Sam.

"One... Seventy four.?"

"Dean's favourite song?"

"It's a tie. Between Zep's 'Rambling On' and 'Travelling Riverside Blues.’”

"Okay, okay. What do you wanna know?" She smiles.

"What's Carver Edlunds real name?" Sam questions.

"Oh no, no, sorry I can't do that."

"We just wanna talk to him. You know get the Supernatural story in his own words."

"He's very private."

"Please." Sam pleads.

"Like we said.. We are very big fans." Y/n explains rolling up her sleeve to show her anti-posessing tattoo eyeing Sam and Dean to do the same. They both unbutton their shirts showing their tattoo's placed on their chest.

"Awesome." The woman says nervously obviously eyeing their chests. Y/n can't help but roll her eyes.

"You know what? One sec." She pulls down her pants to show her ass. And it just so happens to be the same tattoo. Y/n makes an uncomfortable noise from her throat and coughs to interrupt the weirdness.

"Wow, you are a fan." Dean says without removing his eyes from her tattoo.

"Hah, okay, well here, his name is Chuck Shurley. And he's a genius. So don't piss him off." She explains while writing down the information.

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All 3 of them get out of the car and head to the house.

"You know what? Maybe this guy can see our futures.” Y/n says as a joke.

"Yeah, he probably has a crystal ball too." Dean making a sarcastic comment as always.

"Ha ha Dean. Lighten up once in awhile, it's just a joke." Sam chuckles at her nagging.

"See, Sam laughed, it's probably because I'm funny." She speaks while skipping on a few steps to get beside them. When she reaches them, Sam’s hand and hers accidentally touch, startling them.

"Or because you can't keep up with us, short legs." Dean remarks once making it to the porch. Dean presses the doorbell and after a few seconds a guy with brown scruffy hair opens the door squinting at them like a vampire who hasn't seen light in days.

“You Chuck Shurley?” Dean asks.

“The Chuck Shurley who wrote the Supernatural books?” Sam seconds.

“Maybe, why?” The scruffy vampire man replies suspiciously. Y/n steps up between the boys.

“I’m Y/n, this is Sam and Dean. The ones you’ve been writing about.” She explains pointing at them. The man shuts the door so Y/n raises her arm and pounds on the door. Once again the man appears in the doorway.

“Look uh, I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It’s always nice to hear from the fans. But for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life.” Y/n scoffs at that and stops the door when the man tries to shut it.

“So here’s the thing, Chuck. We have a life, you’ve been using it to write your books, and I’m not in the mood for crap today.” Y/n perks up and walks into his house. The brothers both look at each other not expecting that from her.

“Wait a minute, this isn’t funny.” The man stutters.

“Damn straight, it’s not funny.” Dean starts to get mad.

“Look, we just want to know how you’re doing it?” Sam asks obviously being the nice cop here.

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Are you a hunter?”

“What? No, I’m a writer.”

“Then how do you know so much about demons and tulpas and changelings?” Dean pressures.

“Is this some kind of Misery thing? It is isn’t it? It’s a Misery thing.”

“This is not a Misery thing.” Y/n chimes in.

“Believe me, we are not fans.” Explains Dean.

“Well then what do you want?”

“I’m Sam, this is Dean, and that’s Y/n.”

“Sam, Dean and Y/n are all fictional characters. I made them up. They’re not real!”

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Dean opens up the Impala’s trunk.

“Are those real guns?” Chuck asks.

“Yup, this is real rock salt, these are real fake Id’s.”

“Believe us now?” Says Y/n.

“Uh, I gotta hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans. That’s awesome, so.. I think I got some posters in the house.” Chuck dabbles and walks back to his house.

“Chuck stop!” Deans yells.

“Wait, please, please don’t hurt me.”

“How much do you know? About the angels or Lilith breaking the seals?” Asks Sam.

“Wait a minute, how do you know about that?”

“How do you?” Y/n questions.

“Cause I wrote it.”

“You kept writing?” Questions Y/n again, curious.

“Even after the publisher went bankrupt. But those books never came out.” The 3 look at each other then Chuck.

“Okay wait wait wait, this is some kind of joke right? Did that- Did Phil put you up to this?” He laughs pointing to his left.

“Well nice to meet you. I’m Dean Winchester, this is my brother, Sam, and that’s Y/n Y/L/n.”

“Last names were never in the books. I never told anybody about that. I never even wrote that down.”

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After talking more with Chuck, they all head to the Laundromat.

“‘I’m sitting in a Laundromat, reading about myself in a Laundromat, reading about myself-‘ my head hurts.” Dean recites the paper.

“There’s gotta be something this guys not telling us.” Sam says putting his laundry in the machine.

“‘Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine. He was starting to have doubts about Chuck. Whether he was telling the whole truth.’”

“Stop it.” Sam now annoyed.

“‘Stop it’ Sam said.’ Guess what you do next. ‘Sam turned his back on Dean. His face brooding and pensive.’ I mean I don’t know how but this guy is doing it.”

“Yeah I mean those are definitely his brooding and pensive shoulders.” Y/n responds to Dean.

“See, I knew you were gonna say that, and Sam just thought I was a dick. As well as Y/n daydreaming about Sam’s ass.” This caught Y/n’s attention.

“It does not say that!”

“I’m pretty sure it does, look-ey here” Dean waves the paper in Y/n’s face.

“Gimme that.” Y/n scootches over to Dean on the bench to grab the paper but he waves it around out of her reach.

“Oh my god, you are so childish Dean.”

“Says the one embarrassed she got caught starin’.” Reading off the paper again, Y/n snatches the paper, crumples it and throws it in the trash.

“You gotta admit, the guys good.” Sam chuckles and tries to ignore the previous conversation.

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Back at the house trying to get more information, Chuck holds more paper.

“So you wrote another chapter?” Asks Sam.

“This was all so different before you were real.”

“We need whatever you can tell us to figure this out so just spit it out.” Y/n perks up.

“Okay, uhm this might be a little uncomfortable, but you asked so.” The 3 share glances across the room from where Dean is sitting on a chair and Sam and Y/n are sitting on the couch. Chuck sits on a stool, puts his glasses on and begins to read, obviously seeming like he doesn’t like to read his work out loud.

“‘Y/n grabs him by the edges of his unzipped jacket pulling him closer to her when he hungrily smashes his lips on hers like a wave of relief, a desire fulfilled.’ Chuck stops reading to look at the 3, who’s faces are utterly confused to see if he should read on. Y/n just knows her face is red as a tomato when she starts to feel very uncomfortable at the mention of her name. Chuck starts to read on.

“‘Sam’s hands grab her hips trying to get impossibly clos-‘“

“Okay, I don’t think we need that much information..” Sam cuts Chuck off feeling embarrassed and very sweaty at the moment. Dean chuckles at the very obvious uncomfortableness in the room.

“It’s just a draft..” Chuck states. Y/n stands from the couch.

“I’m uh super thirsty actually, do you have any water Chuck?”

“Y-Yeah, I’ll uhm go get some.”

“Great, I’ll come with you.” Y/n follows trying to leave the awkwardness as fast as possible.

Sam starts to laugh.

“What’re you laughing at?” Dean questions.

“Nothing, nothing, its just, Y/n and me? In bed?”

“Who are you trying to convince here?” Dean smirks.

“Don’t worry, I definitely don’t see you’re guys’ little glances and hand touches, and staring at the other when the other isn’t looking type of deal.”

“Dean.”

“What?” Dean says innocently causing Sam to roll his eyes.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Y/n and Chuck walk back into the room with her glass of water.

“Thank you.” Y/n says kindly avoiding eye contact with Sam as she sits on the couch but a little farther away this time trying not to make it more awkward.

“How does this whole psychic thing work?” Dean asks Chuck.

“You mean my process?”

“Yes. Your process.”

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“Come on.” Sam starts while they’re all in the Impala.

“‘The minivan accident wasn’t that bad. But Dean was still seeing stars, he scratched absently at the pink flower Band-Aid on his face..’” Y/n giggles at that from the backseat.

“So?” Questions Dean.

“So I’ve seen you gushing blood. You use duct tape and bar rags before you’d put on a pink flower Band-Aid.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is this, all this is totally implausible. It’s nuts.”

“He’s been right about everything, you think he’ll ground out at first now?”

“‘Dean slid behind the wheel of his beloved Impala and drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow.’”

“Can we stop with these papers? Our lives aren’t a script we have to follow, reading off of these isn’t gonna help with anything right now except make you guys argue.” Y/n put her hands on the seat and leaned forward glancing between them.

“Yeah whatever, you just don’t wanna come across another part with you and Sam.” Dean smirks.

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Back at the motel Dean still seemed to have questions.

“I’m gonna go outside and try to see if I can contact Cas.”

“Don’t leave me in here Dean!” Y/n whisper yells.

“Sam’s in the shower, I’ll be like 10 minutes tops Y/n. Just don’t go hopping in there with him.” Dean smirks and shuts the door to the room.

Y/n decides to get comfy so she sits on the bed, back against the headboard and watches whatever she can find on the tv. After watching the clock, it had been 10 minutes exactly when she heard the bathroom door open. Sam walked out, damp hair and water dripping down his body with only a towel hanging on his waist. Y/n found herself staring.

“Oh, uhm I thought I heard the door close, I assumed you left with Dean.” Sam explained gathering up his clean clothes.

“He said he would be like 10 minutes, just wanted to contact Cas.”

“Oh okay.” Sam said nervously heading back to the bathroom to change. After a few minutes the bathroom door opened again and this time he had pants on but still no shirt.

“Could you uh pass me that shirt beside you?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, here.” She tossed him his shirt. He raised his arms and put his shirt on. Y/n swore she almost drooled. Sam came and sat down across from Y/n on the other bed facing her. She sat up and put her feet on the floor.

“Listen, about earlier..” Sam started as he scratched his neck. Remembering back to earlier Y/n laughed, noticing how funny it actually was.

“Which part? There was so many.” She giggled referring to all the awkward times people said something about them being together. Sam laughed too at that.

“Yeah, I just don’t want that to make things awkward between us, it’s kinda felt that way since earlier.”

“Yeah, I felt that too. But maybe Chuck was wrong? I’ve always believed we write our own futures, so fuck destiny. If we don’t feel what everyone is saying we should feel, then so what?” Sam laughed and nodded his head.

“I agree.” At that, Y/n smiled and stood up to hug Sam.

“See? All better, we can feel how we wanna feel.”

“So I can feel that I wanna tickle you?” Sam smiled and Y/n immediately gasped and tried to run away but Sam grabbed her waist and started tickling.

“SAM! I swear if you don’t stop!” Sam pushed her back onto the other bed stopping her from squirming away.

“You swear what?” Sam stopped tickling her but held her hips to the bed still. After a few moments, Y/n caught her breath but didn’t know what to say. She looked back and forth between his eyes and lips and so did Sam. Suddenly they heard voices and sat up quickly. Dean walked through the door.

“I don’t even wanna know. C’mon we are getting out of here.” Dean stated.

“What where?” Asked Sam.

“Anywhere, okay? Out of this Motel, out of this town. I don’t care if we gotta swim. We are getting out.” Dean started packing his bag.

“Why aren’t you guys moving?” Dean raised his voice.

“Listen, Chuck is not a psychic. He’s a prophet.”

“What?” Y/n stood up.

“Cas showed up. And apparently, Chuck is writing the gospel of us. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“It’s the middle of the night Dean, the road out of here is cut off, we can’t leave.” Y/n walked towards him.

“Fine. We are leaving as soon as the road out of here opens up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Dean repeated.

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That night, Dean some how ended up getting his own bed and Y/n got the other bed while Sam was stuck with the couch after very much debate between him and Y/n.

Y/n slowly opened her eyes to find it was still dark outside, she found herself thirsty so she got up to grab a water bottle out of the fridge but only found beer. ‘Liquid is liquid I guess’ she thought. Once her eyes adjusted to the room, her eyes found themselves on Sam, quietly laughing at how gigantic he was with his legs hanging off the end of the couch. She looked over to Dean but he wasn’t there.

“Dean?” She asked like he was suddenly gonna appear. She quickly made her way over to Sam shaking his shoulders to wake him up.

“Sam? Sam!” He groaned as he awoke.

“Deans not in his bed.”

“What?” Sam questioned Y/n.

‘Oh my god, his morning voice.’ Y/n thought.

“I don’t know where he is. The Impala is still outside and all of his stuff is here.”

Sam stood up to see Dean was in-fact not in his bed. ‘He doesn’t have a shirt on too? Oh my, what this man does to me.’ Y/n thought.

“Maybe he went for a walk?” Said Sam obviously too tired at the moment to focus.

“I don’t know Sam.” Sam took a step closer to Y/n to get her attention.

“Y/n, I’m sure he just went to the bar across the street or something. Let’s just go back to sleep and when we wake up I’m telling you he will be here. If he’s not, we can take as many precautions as you’d like.”

“Fine.” At that Sam took another step closer to put his fingers on her chin turning her head up to him.

“Y/n.” Sam said sternly knowing she was worried.

“It’s okay Sam, if you think he’s fine, I believe you.” Y/n explained placing her fingers on his hand. Sam smiled at that.

“Goodnight Y/n.” Sam said softly leaving her touch.

“Are you sure about that couch Sam? You didn’t look too comfortable… You can sleep in my bed if you want, I really don’t mind.” Y/n said calmly trying to act as chill as possible as she climbed in under the covers.

“You sure?”

“Just get in Sam.” She smiled at him. Sam made his way over to the side of the bed and hesitantly got under the covers as well. Y/n turned over to face Sam still smiling.

“What?” He smiled at her.

“You’re so warm, the bed was so cold before.” Y/n said, thoughts racing.

“I’ll gladly be your heater anytime Y/n.” She loved when he said her name. She shuffled a bit closer not wanting to roll off the bed during the night. At that, Sam slowly reached his hand up to brush her hair out of her face behind her ear. At the action, Y/n’s cheeks turned pink, thankful it was dark so he didn’t notice.

After a moment of staring into each others eyes, both of their gazes flickered back and forth from their eyes to each others lips. Sam leaned in slowly not wanting to accidentally get the wrong idea. His lips grazed hers and after realization Y/n pressed her lips to his. A slow kiss made faster in the moment turning his hand on her hip and hers on his cheek.

They both separated taking heavy breaths, echoing through the motel room. Y/n smirked and pulled him closer once again intertwining their mouths and pressing their bodies as close as possible to each other. Sam put both hands on her hips now turning them over so he was on top, he started kissing her jawline and down her neck giving them a break to breathe. Y/n put her hands through his hair as Sam looked up at her.

“I remember you saying ‘fuck destiny.’” Sam smirked.

“And I remember you agreeing. So shut up and kiss me Winchester.” She smiled at him and brought him up to her face connecting their lips. Sam tugged at the edge of her oversized shirt making her lean up off the bed so he could pull it off finding her without a bra. He instantly went to sucking her chest and twisting her other nipple. Y/n let out a moan and Sam smiled against her chest switching to give each the same attention.

He went back to her mouth and Y/n found the draw string to his sweatpants undoing the bow tugging at them. Sam got the hint and detached their mouths to kneel and take off his pants. He slowly reached for Y/n’s shorts and looked up at her. She smiled and nodded so he continued to pull them off her. He rubbed his fingers against her covered heat.

“Your so wet.” Sam noticed and smiled at her.

“All for you.” Y/n spoke up. Sam then hooked his fingers on either side of her hips pulling her underwear down and off. She whined at the cool air hitting her suddenly. Sam leaned down toward her heat spreading her legs with his hands and licking a stripe up her slit. Y/n moaned at his action so Sam did it again liking the sweet sounds she made. He then started sucking on her clit harshly making her squeal and try to shut her legs around his head so Sam reached both his arms under and around her thighs keeping them open for him.

He started moving his mouth around more chasing her to moan and stick her hands back in his hair pulling and tugging.

“Sam pleasee.” Y/n moaned.

“Please what? Tell me what you need sweetheart.” Sam replied against her pussy.

“I- I need more!” At that, Sam unhooked one of his arms from her thigh and stuck his finger in her hole. Y/n screamed at the sudden movements. Sam roughly moved his finger in and out adding a second one still sucking her clit.

“I- I’m gonna-“ Y/n tried to tell him.

“That’s it, cum on my fingers sweetie.” At the nickname, Y/n came on his fingers a moaning mess. Still thrusting, he let her come down from her high.

Sam sucked her juices off his fingers coming off with a pop.

“You taste so good.” Sam stated crawling back up to her to intertwine their lips. They broke apart as Y/n tugged his boxers down finding his hard cock.

“You’re so big.” Said Y/n, almost drooling. Sam chuckled and turned her on her stomach with her ass in the air. Sam stuck his arm around to her face.

“Spit.” Y/n did as told and Sam brought his hand back to stroke his cock a few times. He put one hand on her ass spreading her open for him and the other hand guiding his dick in her wet hole. He slowly went in as Y/n started to whine.

“C’mon, you can fit me honey.” She moaned at his deep soothing voice and Sam bottomed out giving her a second to adjust before he pulled out, back in, and started slamming into her from behind with both hands on her hips now bringing her hips to meet his. Their moans and groans filled the room along with the slapping of their hips.

“Sam-“ Y/n moaned into the bed gripping the sheets. Sam grabbed both her arms and pinned her wrists behind her back grunting as he pounded harder. Y/n started to whine loudly and he felt her clench causing him to roll his head back.

“You gonna cum baby?” He said to her reaching his fingers down to massage her clit.

“Mhmm.” She moaned out not being able to form words. He let go off her wrists, grabbing a fist of hair instead making her uncontrollably moan as well as her eyes rolling back in her head. Sam stopped his movement on her clit and let go of her hair before pulling out quickly to flip her body around. Her back now on the bed he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder immediately putting his cock back into her wet cunt causing her to whimper and scream. Sam leaned down grabbing the sides of her face in his palms and kissed her. While pulling away from her lips he started pounding into her like never before shaking the bed. They stared into each others eyes mouths wide open moaning. Y/n’s eyes started to get heavy and started to stutter.

“Sam, I’m-“ Sam knew what she was trying to say and continued fucking into her.

“I know baby. Cum for me.” He said between breaths feeling her starting to clench around him. Y/n moaned his name all the way through her orgasm.

“Good girl.” Y/n then began to shake at the over stimulation.

“Sammy- I ca-“

“Just a little longer sweetie, you can do it.” He reassured her and let go of her head to pound into her a little more when his thrusts started getting sloppy and his dick began to twitch. His cum shot into her causing them to both moan. He carefully pulled out and leaned down on top of her to kiss her swollen lips. She ran her fingers through his hair while both of them panted to calm down and catch their breathe. Sam lied down next to her on his side, pulled her into him by her waist and kissed the top of her head.

“I guess we can’t really escape destiny huh?” Sam joked and Y/n looked up at him kissing him again.

*:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*

Y/n’s eyes began to open immediately putting her hand up to block the bright sunlight. She looked around to find Sam’s arm draped over her waist and Dean’s bed still empty. Sam awoke from her movement.

“Hi.” Sam said fluttering his eyes open.

“Hi.” She replied smiling at him. Suddenly the motel room door opened and in walked Dean landing his eyes on them.

“So, destiny huh guys?” Dean smirked. Sam’s cheeks went pink and Y/n grabbed her pillow and tossed it at Dean.

“Hey! Watch the coffee grumpy.” Dean remarked.

“Where were you last night?” Y/n asked ignoring his comment.

“Just at the bar. Why? Seems like your guys’ minds were somewhere else.” Dean placed the coffees down and widened his eyes at the pair.

“Couch comfy Sam?” Dean asked, obviously amused. Sam just rolled his eyes at his joking behaviour.

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jeromevalecka · 1 year ago

Text

୨୧ jerome valeska x reader smut oneshot .

words : 1563

warnings : nsfw , choking kink , mentions of violence , doll(y) and love petnames , breeding kink , cunnilingus

summary : you join jerome on one of his busy days, telling him how you've been feeling lately as he proposes to show you how much he still loves you

notes : reader is gn but afab , smut. sorry for any possible grammar mistakes ♡ reqs r open!

⚠︎ NSFW BELOW PROCEED WITH CAUTION ⚠︎

Jerome was always busy, never having any time for you. It made you upset and feel unloved, but you didn't know how to tell him that. Today was another day in where Jerome had plans, you couldn't bare it anymore and decided to ask him if you could join him for the day. "J?? can i come with please" you ask him as you look at the redhead in front of you. "u sure dolly?" he says as he places a hand onto your cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb. You nod at him "yes please...i miss you" you say as your facial expression changes to slightly sad. His eyes widen a little and he gives you a smile "alright then, i do need to go now though so slip on those shoes" he says and caresses your cheek one more time before pulling his hand away. He starts walking towards the front door of your shared apartment, you quickly slip on your shoes and follow him, grabbing onto his hand and holding it tightly.

You both arrive at an abandoned building, seeming to have been a theater down in the narrows. You look around and follow Jerome inside as the two of you pass some scary and intimidating looking guys. Jerome nods at them and pushes open the main door, giving you a quick glace. "you sure you'll be okay doll? i need to take care of some guy who's been betraying me. You don't mind seeing me torture him do you love?" he says and smiles, with a hint of insanity behind his smile and eyes. you shake your head no at him and watch him walk up to a rather short man, tied to a flimsy chair. Jerome slaps the guy in the face and laughs, you turn around and sigh quietly as you hear screams behind you. Once the screams quiet down again you turn around, seeing Jerome breathe heavily as his chest rises up and down in a fast pace. He enjoys hurting and torturing others, you always wonder if he'd ever hurt you that way, you chose to believe he wouldn't. I mean you're his s/o after all, though...the man was very unpredictable. He orders one of the men dressed in black to take the guy away, they obey him and pull away the lifeless body. Jerome turns around and his gaze meets yours. He smiles and makes his way over to you, he cups your cheeks with his hands. His lips meet yours as he kisses you passionately, you return the kiss. He smiles and pinches your cheek with his pointing finger and thumb. "Jerome...?" you say and look into his green eyes, still filled with a little blood lust. "yes my sweet doll?" he replies and kisses your forehead. "can...i talk to you please, under four eyes" you say and look around seeing a few members of Jerome's cult hanging around. He nods and grabs your hand, pulling you into a room behind the old theater stage. "what is it?" he says and leans up against the dirty looking wall. "i feel like we barely have any time together anymore...i get it i do, i mean you have stuff to take care of and such. but i really miss you, all we do is say good night and good morning to each other these days and im left all alone at home again" you say as your eyes start to water. His facial expression softens and he pulls you against him, holding you tightly against his chest. "im sorry dolly...im here with you now though" he says and looks down at you in his slightly muscular arms. "you'll always be my little doll, my only doll. i promise" he smiles at you, warmly. It's in times like these where you forget he literally just brutally murdered and tortured a man. You smile up at him "make it up to me, will you??" you say in a rather teasing tone. He smirks and leans down whispering into your ear. "right here, huh? naughty doll" he says. His lips attach onto the soft skin on your neck as he starts leaving kisses all over. Your cheeks start turning red as you smile, clearly having missed his kisses on your body. He starts to bite down, sinking his teeth into your skin. As he pulls away he licks the marks he left and smirks.

Jerome picks you up and sets you down onto an old case, probably still containing some kind of equipment. He places his hands onto your waist as you straddle him, pulling him closer. His lips reattach to yours again as his kisses begin to get more rough, still passionate though. His hands slide up under your shirt as they make their way to your back, unhooking the clasps on your black colored bra as he helps you take off your shirt, along with the bra. His lips leave yours as he attaches them to one of your nipples, sucking on them ever so softly as he plays with your other nipple. He squeezes and pinches it as his teeth start to nibble on your other nipple. He kisses you and leaves hickies all over your collarbones, shoulders and breasts as he smiles up at you. Jerome's favorite way of showing you how much you mean to him during these situations is leaving marks all over your body, since he is very possessive over his doll after all. His hands slide down, as he proceeds to strip you of your remaining clothing, leaving only your panties behind. He bends down and starts peppering the inner of your thighs with hickies, kisses and love bites. Slowly he inches his way up, his hands sliding off your panties ever so slow. Once they finally hit down to your ankles his lips start to kiss down onto your pussy. Your hands find their way to his hair as you tug on it lightly, his tongue starts licking away and sucking on your clit. You let out moans as he continues to give you head, two of his fingers now also thrusting in and out of your hole. Once you almost reach your orgasm he pulls away, licking his fingers and smirking at you. "i bet you've missed my tongue too, huh?" he says in a teasing tone. You nod and smile, catching your breath. His hands attach to the hem of his pants as he pulls them down to his ankles along with his boxers. He lets his cock out and spits into his palm, stroking a few times to coat his cock in his saliva so it'll slide in easier. He grins and positions himself in front of your entrance, slowly sliding it in with a loud groan. You straddle him again as his cock now slides into you fully, Jerome bites onto his bottom lip as he places a hand onto your neck. He gently starts squeezing it as his hips start thrusting. "god...i missed you too dolly" he says as he throws his head back with a loud groan. His pace fastens as his grip on your neck tightens more. You moan out his name as he continues to rearrange your insides, whenever Jerome fucks you its like he loses all control, his hips bucking into yours with speed. He releases his grip on your neck and places his hands onto your hips, slamming his cock into you harder with load groans. He presses his nails into your skin, making sure to leave marks as he thrusts in and out in a fast pace. Sounds of skin slapping against each other, moans and groans filling up the tiny room behind the old stage. "let them hear that i own you, be a good dolly" he says and smirks, continuing to slam his cock inside of you as he hits all of the right spots. You obey him and moan his name louder, he chuckles at the sound of them as he pulls you close against his body as he presses his forehead against yours. His thrusting starts to become more sloppy as his chest starts rising up and down faster, his hot breath hitting your face. "All mine...you're my property aren't you little doll?" he says with a smirk. You nod and smile, kissing him roughly as you notice him getting close to his orgasm. Your orgasm also feeling close, a few more seconds after he finishes inside of you with a load groan. You finish not too soon after him as you let out moans, your legs shaking ever so slightly as you bite onto your bottom lip. Jerome grins and chuckles as his hands release from your hips, he pulls you into his arms tightly and hugs you. "ill clear up my schedule for you anytime my little doll" he says as you nuzzle your head against his chest.

"thank you J...i love you so much" you say as you look up into the redheads green eyes. He caresses your hair softly with his fingers and smiles "i love you too my love" he replies. The both of you staying there a little longer just holding each other tightly, getting dressed again afterwards as Jerome immediately goes home with you for round two.

thank you for reading , have a good day/night ♡

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n0vatsu · 2 months ago

Note

Can you describe mm! Yoake's personality please?? Before I make any content for any ocs, I wanna get to know them first to avoid any mischaracterization! :,33

Yoake

yoake’s personality has a calm type though very introverted and shy pretty similar to hayden’s personality but she can also be agressive or just stay distant to some of the members and visitors if they remind her of her past or is a threat to the mansion,

Like tsutsuji, she also wants to keep the mansion safe but only physically she doesnt care about anyone in it she just needs the place to hide.. but from who? Where? Why?

ABOUT THE MEMBERS

(basically how yoake feels about the members + @gachaclubideas’s ocs)

Trickster

“Well I definitely tell how she got her name, I’ve seen things… many things…”

Casimir

“Despite me and him not getting along sometimes we can both agree on one thing… romantic and intimate stuff is weird..”

Fun Fact: Yoake is aroace^^!

Rosemary

“Probably the only person in the family I deeply care about.. i wish i was born with her instead of where i was born..”

Heaven and Nevaeh

”I don’t get their vibe, they seem bratty, I swear I’m this close to throwing both of them out of a window. They are just lucky that there isn’t any chains or hangers here.. unlike back home..”

Hayden

“I probably relate to him the most I talk to him once in a while but one of the experimented siblings keep trying to throw me out of a window everytime I do so…”

Penelope

“at first she freaks me out.. a lot.. I’ve seen her chase y/n with a axe once.. not pretty. Though when I told her I was from a cult she started asking too many questions.. shes only just a child.. I’ll let her play her childish games.”

Fun Fact: If Yoake wasn’t the one and only light elet in the like in the canon universe, she’d be born in a cult and her mother would be the cultmaster

Chaoxiang

“I know he doesn’t have any bad intentions but he reminds me of someone… the memories… I try to avoid him as much as possible.”

Willow

“she is probably the only one here who has some sense.. I keep trying to talk to her but that one girl.. seems protective..”

Fun fact: Yoake doesn’t actually know who Tsutsuji is, she only killed her siblings and fleed when she heard someone coming

Tsutsuji

“I’m probably afraid of her the most, I feel like im constantly being watched and she always gives me that “I’m gonna kill you” glare, did I do something wrong?”

Talissa

“She doesn’t like me either… Especially since she always tries to throw me out of a window… maybe I should be more distant to Hayden just to be safe..”

Elijah

“He is a good brother to Talissa, I honestly wish I had a brother like him instead of the one I had..I feel envy for Talissa.”

Juliet

“A vampire in the mansion.. interesting… but the amount of awkwardness both me and Elijah get when he takes me to another room and says “Hiii Juliet~” Do I literally look that similar to her because of my hair? I really need to talk to her..”

Milkeshake mansion and the characters Trickster, Casimir, Rosemary, Heaven, Nevaeh, Hayden, Penelope, Chaoxiang, & Willow belong to: @boiling-potato

Elijah, Talissa, & Juliet belong to: @gachaclubideas

Tsutsuji and Yoake belong to me^^!

Apologies for the long text:,)

#gacha oc #my oc #My ocs #yoake🤍🩵#tsutsuji⭐️💖#mm! tsutsuji #mm! yoake #Au #milkshake mansion #milkshake mansion au #mutuals🫂✨💖#justafriendlystranger🤍🖤#boiling potato🥔💚#talissa🖤⚡️#💖tsut’s answer💖#oc lore????

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bookofmac · 9 months ago

Text

okay okay okay, thinking thoughts

So I find the concept of Names really interesting in Camlann, reading into the extracanonical stuff put on the tumblr is giving me food for theory crafting. The Catacylsm seems to be some kind of return of magic to the world (possibly heralded by the return of The King of the Britons in their hour of need?) and thus people with significant Names have access to something because of it. they fall into the stories of their namesakes; Perry, Gwaine, and Kay are Knights, Morgan is Morgana Le Fay, and we now have a Gwen in Shújūn.

Based on Kay's dicussion with Perry if more people can fill in the roles of their stories to more 'to plan' the stories will go, Of course this is not good news if you know the general end point of Arthurian legend (Betrayal, muderer, war, most everyone dead, the 'Glory' of camelot gone). It's inherently kind of a doomsday cult if you stay in those stories, you know where parts of this are going (i'll get back to this)

it also seems like there may be some, for lack of a better term, kin drama going on. There are 900 members of the court and Kay mentions that Peredur is a really uncommon name outside of Wales, meaning there are certain knights who are more common, i assume Lancelot's, Kay's, maybe a few Talisin's, a bunch of Gareth's, and like 50 Elaines like in the legends lol

We also dont have the context for how Names work full yet and neither do our characters. I think theres a lot of answers to be had with Shújūn/Gwen with how it works, how you know other than the buzzing in you're head and desire go through the motions and Follow the Story

Now, where does Dai fit in all this?

Dai doesn't have a Name, and I think theres going to be a point where he changes his name in a major way, but not to a Name, but a Bardic name. In welsh poetic and story telling tradtions Welsh poets, THE OG Bards, will take on pseudonyms tell their stories. This practice stems from the medievil era, but goes forth to today, and many modern Welsh and welsh heritage poets have connections to this tradition (Dylan Thomas' middle name was his great uncles bardic name, Sarah Williams published her work under the name Sadie), I believe it's also a requirement to have one if you intend to perform in the major Eisteddfod, (I am Australian so my experiance of Eisteddfods here is very different so if i'm wrong on that let me know)

Why would he do this? I think Dai is going to, at least try, to write him and his friends a way out.

Much ink is spilt over how Arthurian legend doesnt have an 'orginal text', and as such there are lots of stories that are inherently contradictory; Bedwyr is the best knight, but so are Gwaine, Lancelot, and Galahad. Mordred is some random king until his Arthur's son. Arthur has a sister, no he has two, actually he has three and one of them is an Elaine. This could be used to explain any doubles (are you my Gwaine), as well as why we see a few different spelling varients which are, the very welsh Peredur as opposed to Percival or Parzifal, the anglisised and more boarish Kay as opposed to Cei or Caius (this last one might just to keep Dai and Kay distinct tho). These variations are no more or less 'canon' than any other telling of the story, and so often the writer of a given telling of Arthurian legend is going to have their own bias. But things dont HAVE to end the way they always do, and sometime you need to have someone outside the story you're caught in to tell you a new one.

You are not locked into that ever looming cloud of Thomas Mallory and Le Morte d'Arthur.

Other evidence I have for this is that Dai sings at the begining of each episode, and sings in welsh at that. He also is, to a point our narrator, existing both in and out of the current narative. Also his name is an a lyric of Sosban Fach (a song i would be surprised if it wasn't in the show at some point) 'Dai bach y sowldiwr' which is also not from the text the song was based on. Tangential yes, but i think it's worth thinking about.

I think there is also something to be said about choice in what your name is and how it feeds into the overall theme of identiy, and how that plays into other themes at play in the story, like Transness, Imperialism, and Predestination

TL:DR; While he doesnt have a Name, Dai's gonna give himself an epic bard name and save them all by writing a killer hook to get them out of the story

#if i've gotten details wrong wrt welsh culture im sorry i am australian and a lot of my engagement in my welsh heritage is me doing research #theres only 3 eps out i listend to them an hour ago and im writing this kind of tinfoil i'm so proud of myself lol #this is so rambly im sorry but if people want to use any of this to build ideas off of pls go ahead #camlann #camlann pod #camlann podcast #camlannpodcast #many thoughts; so big so made of foil #if i am right about the kin drama idea i'll be so happy #all the garaths fighting over kitchen duty is very funny to me in specific

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anonymousewrites · 1 year ago

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One Hell of a Love (Book 1.5) Chapter One

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter One: One Hell of a Monastery

Summary: (Y/N) and Sebastian go to a cult, and (Y/N) finds themself annoyed with Sebastian's tactics for getting information.

Mouse Note: This book is called “1.5” because it contains almost everything that is non-canon to Manga storyline. I had a bit in Book 1, but that stuff can be moved on from in Book 2. Book 1.5 will contain the end of Season 1 and the entirety of Season 2 of Black Butler. So, while this book and its storyline does exist and the emotional realizations of Sebastian and MC are canon, I simply hold it separate from the rest of Sebastian and the MC’s story to not create too much confusion of canon vs non-canon Manga storyline.

“This morning, you are scheduled to have a dancing lesson with Mrs. Bright,” said Sebastian as he and (Y/N) walked beside Ciel. “This afternoon, you have an appointment with Lord Winsler, who runs a trading business. Are you paying attention, Young Master?”

“Didn’t I tell you I’ve had enough of dancing?” said Ciel. “It doesn’t suit me.”

“You are too modest. I thought you looked lovely at the soiree,” said (Y/N), smiling impishly at the reference to Ciel’s undercover work. Ciel sent them an icy glare as his ears turned red, but (Y/N), not being his contracted demon, didn’t have any reason to be nervous and just grinned wider.

Ciel huffed and opened the door to his parlor. He deadpanned at what he saw inside. He had another visitor prancing around his mansion unannounced. This time, it was Ash, the Queen’s butler. He was chatting and sipping tea with Tanaka.

“You are Her Majesty’s butler!” said Ciel.

“Master Ciel,” greeted Ash.

“How is it that Her Majesty’s butler came to be drinking tea in my mansion?” asked Ciel.

“You may not be aware of this, Young Master, but Mr. Ash has always been the one to deliver Her Majesty’s orders,” said Sebastian.

“Is that even a butler’s job?” asked Ciel.

“As a butler, it is only natural to be able to investigate applicants for an audience with Her Majesty, deliver an envelope to Lord Phantomhive shortly thereafter, and relish some tea with Mr. Tanaka while about this business, conducting it during Her Majesty’s afternoon nap!” declared Ash forcefully.

He’s got Sebastian’s work ethic, thought (Y/N).

“So, Mr. Ash, what can we do for you this time?” said Sebastian. He had no answers for it yet, but he too felt some instinctual wariness around the butler, so he wanted to make this meeting quick.

“Well, now,” said Ash. “There is a catholic monastery on the outskirts of Preston that was set on fire during the Reformation and is currently disused. A religious society preaching heretical doctrine has begun assembling there. Rumor has it that the founder of this society possesses the Doomsday Books of all his followers.”

“You mean the land register? Where things like livestock and property appear?” said Ciel. “Even if he has all this information, what good is it to him?”

“Not Domesday. Doomsday,” corrected Ash. “These books they are worshipping are quite different from what you have in mind. Doomsday: the Day of Judgement. Indeed, it is a register, but of the sort you need when flung before the Throne of God. They say all your offenses, virtues, and vices are engraved on its pages.”

Ciel tsked. “Yet another encounter with the occult.”

“It would also seem they’re planning an uprising against the government,” said Ash. “The residents of Preston are frightened by this heretical menace, and Her Majesty the Queen is deeply saddened by it.”

“Does this mean they are to be dispersed, or rather, eradicated?” questioned Ciel.

“I will leave that to your judgment,” said Ash.

“Very well,” said Ciel.

At the widow, Pluto suddenly jumped up (thankfully in human form and clothed) and began banging on the window. His mouth was open in a wide grin as he stared at Ash. The white-haired man’s eyes narrowed sharply, and Pluto’s face dropped. He walked away dejectedly. (Y/N)’s nose twitched at the interaction.

“Who is he?” asked Ash.

“Just an employee,” said (Y/N).

“I see. He seems interesting,” said Ash. His violet eyes landed on (Y/N). “As interesting as any one else on this staff, of course.”

(Y/N) and Sebastian’s gazes were cold and gained no warmth until after Ash had made his departure.

“So, where shall we start?” said (Y/N).

“According to Mr. Ash, the monastery is heavily guarded,” said Sebastian. “That would make it difficult to infiltrate directly. He also mentioned on his way out that a considerable number of coffins have recently been transported into the monastery.”

“Coffins, eh?” said Ciel. “Well, then, we know who to visit.”

Sebastian, Ciel, and (Y/N) walked into the Undertaker’s shop, and they saw him standing beside a coffin with his back to them.

“Undertaker, I have a favor to ask of you,” said Ciel.

“If that is the case…” Undertaker turned slightly to reveal red glasses and fluorescent eyes. “…Let my humble being relish this most excellent romance!” Grell ran towards Sebastian and (Y/N). They just stepped to the sides and let her slam into the wall.

“Grell!” exclaimed Ciel.

“Hi, Earl,” chirped the voice of the actual Undertaker.

“Undertaker!” Ciel blinked in confusion upon seeing Undertaker buried neck-deep in a pot of salt.

“He had the impudence to speak disrespectfully about a Grim Reaper, so I pickled him in salt,” said Grell matter-of-factly.

“Oh, the sensation of moisture slowly leaving the skin…” Undertaker giggled. “It is out of this world!”

“What are you doing here?” demanded Ciel.

Grell shrugged. “Investigating something on Will’s orders. However, I did not find much information, and I got hungry and sleepy. Having a restorative afternoon nap in a field of flowers, I somehow ended up being carried here. It could have been a mistake not to breath while sleeping.” She batted her eyelashes at Sebastian and (Y/N). “And there I was, waiting for my true love to wake me up with a nice, long tongue kiss.”

“I’d smother you in my sleep,” said (Y/N), smiling brightly.

“The subject of your investigation?” prompted Sebastian coldly.

“Certain Cinematic Records have been stolen of late,” said Grell with a sigh.

“Cinematic Records?” said Ciel.

“No need for a brat like you to know about them,” said Grell.

Just to be contrary, (Y/N) said, “It is a film of people’s memories of life that play when a reaper collects a soul or strikes the soul with their scythe.”

“Let me make this very clear: you humans can only see it on the brink of death,” said Grell.

“You said they were stolen. Can they be stolen?” questioned Sebastian.

“Well, yes,” said Grell. “They are kept in the library when not in use. The past of all living things—that is to say, of everything that is doomed to die—all the sins and virtues they commit are carefully recorded in the shape of a book.”

“Rather like a book for their Doomsday,” remarked (Y/N). The coincidence was unlikely to be chance.

“Yes,” said Sebastian.

Ciel nodded and turned to Undertaker. “Undertaker, I need you to help me with something.”

“If so, bestow the finest of laughs upon…” Undertaker looked at Grell dressed up in his clothes and grinned. “On second thought, my service will be free this time.

“Wasn’t the infiltration supposed to be difficult?” muttered Ciel after the cramped ride in coffins (courtesy of Undertaker). Instead of anything seriously difficult, the man at the gate allowed them to walk beside him as he guided the cart of coffins farther into the monastery.

“Yes, indeed, it should have been,” said Sebastian.

They passed a nun and a monk, and all three cult members smiled to them cheerfully as they passed.

“Impeccable smiles, aren’t they?” muttered Ciel.

“The smiles of those too foolish to understand their own stupidity,” said (Y/N) brightly as they came upon the church itself.

Inside were stained glass windows with depictions of saints and angels. Wooden pews lined the stone floors, and a dais with a pulpit headed the room.

“Good evening!” Several little boys ran into the room, all dressed identically (it really was the typical cult). “Good evening! Today was a wonderful day again, don’t you think?”

“Oh, they are so cute,” cooed Grell. “I have no real care for kids, though.”

“Good evening, Miss Unclean,” said one of the little boys to Grell. “You really are dirty, through and through.”

Ordinarily, (Y/N) would find Grell getting called out entertaining, but at the use of the words “unclean” and “dirty,” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. Those words were far too familiar.

“What?!” snapped Grell.

“Did something happen, Miss Unclean? Are you feeling unwell?” asked another boy.

Grell hit him over the head. “You brat! Leave the ‘unclean,’ out, you hear?!”

“Ah! I was touched by an Unclean!” cried the boy. “I must be cleansed!” He and the other boys ran away from Grell into a hallway as a nun walked out.

The nun chuckled and smiled softly. “After a certain age, all people are considered impure.” She gazed at the four present. “Judging by your clothes, you are recent converts. Don’t worry, once initiated into the teachers of the Founder, you will be purified.”

“Sebastian,” said Ciel. “Get answers.” It was an order.

“Impure? That is strange to here,” said Sebastian, obeying. He began to walk towards the nun. “Such a beautiful lady as yourself could not possibly be tainted.” The nun blushed at him as he stood before her, her back to the wall.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, and their irises flashed fuchsia possessively.

“I know close to nothing about this religious society,” said Sebastian. “Could you explain it to me in detail?” He smirked sinfully.

“Of course…” The nun blushed and squirmed under his gaze. “But then, what are you…!”

Sebastian’s hand slammed into the door by the nun’s head. She squeaked, and he leaned close with a smirk. “There was a bug.” He stood up to his full height, towering over the extremely-attracted-to-him nun. “Now, you will tell me everything, won’t you?”

“Y-Yes,” stammered the nun. “If you’ll…come with me…” Sebastian took her by the arm and guided her out of the room.

When he caught (Y/N)’s eye, he was surprised to see their arms crossed, nails almost claws as they gripped their arms tight enough to leave marks. Sebastian’s grip faltered on the nun’s arm.

But he had his orders.

“Oh, no~! I’ll become unclean!” gasped the nun within the stables as Ciel, (Y/N), and Grell stood outside. Ciel looked uncomfortable, Grell was growling, and (Y/N)…Well, they were close to murder, and Ciel and Grell were a careful distance away, even if they didn’t understand why they looked that way.

“Ah! I can see it! The gate to Heaven!” cried the nun.

“Tch,” said Sebastian under his breath. This was not enjoyable in the slightest.

Outside, (Y/N) tapped their claw-sharp nails against the wooden fence, light scratches digging into the wood. The thought of that prissy, good-two-shoes, prudish, fool of a human touching Sebastian made every demonic instinct hiss for blood. They knew Sebastian owed them no loyalty—they had merely been mentor and apprentice, and he would barely admit to them being actual friends with some sort of bond—but (Y/N) couldn’t stand a naïve little human touching him.

Grell could see (Y/N)’s eyes turn fuchsia and their claws appearing, and ordinarily she would comment on how attractive they appeared, but for once Grell made the smart decision under the (correct) assumption that one wrong word could get her head torn off.

“Oh!” cried the nun.

(Y/N)’s claws shattered the fence.

“The Doomsday Books of those who live a long life become tainted,” explained the nun as she brushed her disheveled hair. She sat in the hay with her dress on as Ciel, Grell, Sebastian, and (Y/N) listened to her. “The Founder purifies a part of the taint recorded in the Book for us. He also says the Doomsday Book contains a record of both the past and the future.”

“Oh? The future, he says?” remarked Sebastian, but his eyes slid to (Y/N) as he saw the dark look in their eyes.

“However, the only ones to learn about that are the children chosen for the Heavenly Choir,” said the nun.

“Heavenly Choir? Are they singing hymns or something?” said Ciel.

The nun blushed. “The nuances of it are probably somewhat different from simple singing. They let their beautiful voices be heard from the Founder’s bedroom.”

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed in disgust. Perfect, a place to focus their anger—disgusting perverts that exerted their power over others. (Y/N) would tear them to shreds as soon as they were given the chance.

And then they might kill that nun, too. But that would be just for fun.

Taglist:

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@izzieg3987

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@neenieweenie

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@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@idkhowtoplayhoyoversegames

@iamsexytrash

#one hell of a love #x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #demon!reader #demon reader #sebastian x demon!reader #sebastian x reader #black butler sebastian #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #black butler fic #black butler x reader #black butler ciel #black butler #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji

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