#even the crack impossible ships

[writerobscura]

My shipping pursuits are none of your business, Variety Magazine - but if you must know - my current pairing is Charlie Spring & Rand al'Thor.

[why-is-it-always-autumn]

The problem with big fandoms (using "problem" in a very loose sense here) is that it's really hard to stumble across the weird niche undertagged stuff when its being buried in five million coffee shop/royalty/high school/soulmate aus. If there are 150 works in the tag total you can look through very quickly and find anything that appeals to you. When there are over a million it is much harder to do that.

[thefandomenchantress]

So the original ask/answer is deleted now, but in the most recent ask game the DRDTdev revealed that Ace used to have a friend named Taylor Riley, but for some reason, now they’re not friends anymore.

And while most people (reasonably) think that means they had a falling out, I think it would be really funny if it was actually: “yeah, they used to be friends…Now they’re more than that ;)”.

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

I know I'm sort of rapid-posting here a little bit but I've been really wanting to read the Chasing Storm book again but because I can't at the moment I'm rewatching Cars 3 and I'm realizing more and more I have less and less proper reasoning if I get questioned why I like him.

Which I'm now giggling over remembering how I used to skip over the entire middle part of the movie because I just wanted the bits of him in the beginning and ending segments. First movie that I learned every entire bit of dialog to. I used to do the dishes to that movie playing.

[caotictimmy]

🍏- ANON? MAYBE??? it's so late for me but reading your nsfw on Daisuke...UAAAGHHH SAAGHHH 🗣️ he's such a vocal man and the whole morning sex thing where he can't get into you quick enough .helpop helppp meeeee helpppp

(maybe this is a request? Maybe I'm just yapping lowkey??? But if you want to write on this, by all means go for it LMAO)

Giggling over Swansea being mortified while walking in on reader x daisuke getting it on, I imagine they don't notice him and Daisuke is getting all needy trying to keep his pace 🤞 That boy has never felt the touch of person romantically so I could onllllyyyy assume that he'd been sensitive his first time. Or like. Every time with reader- especially if they're still on the ship. He's trying to not make too much noise as everyone is asleep ☹️ his whiney ass is NOT making it through that night. Bonus if reader is nonchalant about it the next day at lunch. They're talking with someone about their poor love lives (finding people to stay with how long their jobs shipments are)- reader dropping shit like 'aw man yeah. if only there was someone to really understand me, y'know?'. As if Daisuke wasn't memorizing their insides and how they physically react to him with his body just last night 😭

HELP 🍏 ANON THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD I ALMOST FELL OFF MY BED. But this is Acually so smart. I always believe Daisuke gets lost in the sauce when you guys have sex. For the headcanon I was thinking they were known dating. But for this let’s pretend the crew doesn’t know Daisuke and reader are dating. The first kind middle part will be NSFW. But the rest should be NSFW. This will be done as a one shot. (I’ll also include your little bonus! Plus a little more:3)

What was that god damn noise..? Swansea thought. Irradiated as he heard a squeaking sound, an indescribable muffled sound coming along with it. For fucks sake he just wanted to get some rest! But those loud noises would not let the poor man drift to sleep. He was gonna put a stop to that noise. Once and for all.

Swansea swings his legs over the side of his bed, sitting up. Stretching his arms as he gets ready to investigate what the noise is, and where it’s coming from. He stands up, his back making a loud crack.( I love old man Swansea). He slips his slippers on. Grabbing and putting on his robe by the door. Slowly pushing the door open. Before silently shutting the door. The noise got louder. Even though the walls were paper thin. It still muffled some of the noise.

He tread carefully through the halls. Getting closer to the noise. Swansea could hear talking maybe? The squeaking of something getting louder the more he approaches. Wait. He’s getting closer to Daisuke’s room..? What the hell was that kid doing. He could hear a faint panting? He started walking a bit faster.

Daisuke’s door was cracked open. God was the kid hurt-. Oh… Oh dear god.. For the love of pony express why did he have to be the one to catch this scene. He could now clearly see what was happening now. God why him..? (Warning for what’s ahead will be NSFW)

“Nyyhhh… F-fuck you feel so good. G-god so good. Am I doing good? Mhm!.. a-am I doing good for you. Wanna make sure your feeling as ..ahh ~… as good as I am.” Daisuke whimpered out. His arms wrapped around your waist as he continues going his rough pace.

“Yes! O-oh fuck hah… doing so good for me!”, Your voice muffled as you were face first in your pillow. Daisuke’s body pressing against your back. Like he was trying to mold his body with you. A loud ‘plap’ sound being able to be heard.

Swansea felt his face contort in horror. He could feel his stomach twist in disgust. He definitely walked in on something he definitely shouldn’t have. So what did he do. He went back to his room. Staring at the ceiling with that petrified face still stuck on his face. To say he wasn’t able to sleep that night would be an understatement

-

“I feel like it’s impossible to date anyone with this crappy job.” Anya huffed in a frustrated tone. “I second to that.”, Curly sighed as he ate his crappy lunch.” Our shipments at a Minimum are 5 months! And it’s like we get a month or two back on earth, before they send us back to ship something!” Anya finished. The annoyed look on her face quite prominent.

“I get you Anya. I want to Acually spend time with someone and let them get to know me. But you can’t really do that on this floating rock.”, You said nonchalantly. You sure were letting Daisuke get to know you. All of you… Swansea thought. Trying not to gag at the imagie of what he witnessed last night.

You could feel Daisuke’s eyes turn to you. Lingering a bit longer than ‘just friends’. “Yeah man, it’s such a bummer!” Daisuke said. A light blush spread across his face as he said it. No one else except Swansea noticed.

“Say uh..” Anya started, looking up at you. “I saw you walking in here with a limp, you good?” She asked,her voice laced with concern. God why did you have to ask that Anya! Swansea cringed at her question. “Oh yea no I’m good! Just hit my leg on the wall while sleeping y’know.” You said. Hmh.. I’m sure you were doing some sort of sleeping. Swansea hurrying to finish his food. Quickly getting up to put his plate in the sink and immediately start work. He really just wants to take his mind off this..

-

“Swan-sea!” Daisuke said, dragging the two parts of Swansea’s name out. Swansea ignored Daisuke, continuing to work on the broken vent. “Dude did I do something wrong?” Swansea sighed. Since Daisuke wanted the truth he’ll get it.”For fucks sake Daisuke! Can you have them stop fucking like rabbits! I know you young people have your urges, but this has been going on for the past week. And it’s Saturday for crying out loud!” Swansea yelled.

“AND IF YOU FREAKS ARE GONNA KEEP GOING AT IT. AT LEAST KEEP THE DOOR SHUT AND BE QUIET. SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP.” Swansea finished, catching his breath. Daisuke just stood there stunned.

“You.. you heard us..?” Daisuke asked, his mouth agape and his eyes shot wide. “I didn’t just hear you guys. Saw it to! Close the damn door next time!” Swansea said irritated. Daisuke continued to stand there embarrassed. “Swansea uh.. I-I’m so sorry I didn’t realize.” Daisuke stuttered out. Still shocked about the revelation.

“Yeah you better be fucking sorry” Swansea muttered. Turning around before pausing. Sighing a bit. “At lest your getting some action in this hell hole. Reminds me of me and my wife.” He said. Before holding his fist out. “I’m only gonna do this once Daisuke.” Swansea said. Daisuke happily returned the fist bump.

“Now get the hell out of my sight for the rest of the day!” Swansea yelled. “Alright swan-sea!” Daisuke said, doing the same long period name thing. Swansea let out an annoyed sigh. At least the kid was happy…

[cult-of-husbandos]

yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

[spitdrunken]

man. still have NOT managed to get my hands on the book of bill because it's sold out literally everywhere over here, but have any of you seen the new 'how not to draw' vid on the disney youtube channel that features bill? it really got me thinking.

notes: fourth wall breaking, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, implied sexual content, implied mind control

it's heavily implied that the video takes place in a world where gravity falls is supposedly fictional, like our own. bill literally says he's going to break the fourth wall! because i'm a sucker for fourth wall breaks and characters being aware of their own fandom (to an extent), i simply just HAD to run with this scenario.

i just like the idea of 'you' being just a person, some totally, in the large scheme of things, insignificant human walking the earth. you have a tendency for escapism, perhaps. you have always been drawn to stories. you like gravity falls. maybe it was something you watched while you were younger and recently rewatched, or an interest that had never waned. regardless, bill cipher, charismatic and unapologetically evil villain that he is, is one of your favourites.

you doodle him on the edges of paper when you're supposed to be doing anything else. (regardless of anyone's artistic skills, it's not difficult to draw a triangle with a top hat and an eye, is it?) and in this world, you are hardly the only one who likes him, who, perhaps, ships himself with him, who thinks about him a lot. who makes drawings and writes or reads fic. you don't think it's all that unusual.

in a stroke of luck or, depending on how you look at it, the exact opposite, the universe's idea of a cosmic joke, you are the one to catch bill's eye. (it's, after all, much easier to infiltrate the dreams of someone who already has you on their mind. makes sense, doesn't it? a tentative, wavering link had been formed already.) there, in your dreams, he tells you what to say--triangulum, entangulum. meteforis dominus ventium. meteforis venetisarium--and the next morning, you remember it clear as a memory.

you do it. for funsies. why wouldn't you? you don't expect it to actually work. he's a fictional interdimensional demon. why would it work? but much to your surprise, and horror, because surely a screw must've gotten loose for this to be happening, one of your little doodles has life blown to it. as a response to your summon, a tiny little bill cipher darts across your paper, alive but still confined.

(you've given him an in. now, he only has to take the crack you've opened for him, dig his fingers in, and tear it open.)

oh, he'll be funny! he'll be exactly what you thought of him. perhaps he even voices a line of dialogue you swore you wrote down somewhere days prior. yes, he's read whatever you wrote or read, whatever you looked at. he's keeping it himself for now. it's not easy to inflate his ego further, but you might have succeeded. rather than a meatbag, bill first looks upon you with the eye of someone presented with a puppy. fundamentally lesser, but capable of being something with the right training.

he urges you to make a deal with him and the promise he'll act out whatever fantasy you've been cooking up in that brain of yours, even if it's gross and weird and physically impossible!

he'll warp your dimension to make all of it possible!!! it's great!!! don't worry about it!!!!!!

…you don't do it. you don't touch the paper. you've seen the show, and you aren't stupid. bill nearly balks. he'd expected you to be the easiest mark of all time, but he suppose he forgot that even puppies have teeth. that's fine. he can work with this. because even though you have not let him in yet, and you refuse to shake his hand through the paper, you don't seperate yourself from him just yet.

you could oh so easily take the piece of paper he's on and throw it in the nearest shredder. or set him on fire. in you, he recognises lingering curiosity, and the excitement at having stood out, at being chosen, in one way or another. it's not hopeless yet.

he can play a bit of a longer game, then. he's been at this for a long, long time. he'll tolerate the paper he's on being folded into a little square and tucked into your breast pocket, granting him a view of your life and the world you're living in. (all the time, his hunger grows.) your decision not to throw him away ends up being your downfall. spending so much time with bill, letting him joke around with you, complaining about your problems… it takes a while for you to realise that, for a while now, he has not been speaking out loud anymore, but instead through your mind.

a connection that cannot be cut has been formed in between two of you.

on bill's part, he had thorougly expected to be bored. but perhaps it's your genuine interest in him, not the things he's offering, which he does not often see. (he's been down this road before. won't end well. but...) the sheer mundanity of your life that makes him wish he could twist and turn it all around. or just a random alignment of the stars. the heart doesn't always follow logic. in this scenario, at some point, bill realises that he has become genuinely invested in you, too. and at that point, you'll never manage to slip away. he's already dug in his heels in your mind far enough. you had no adequate protection.

he still wants to take over your world. he still wants to escape the discomforting flatness of the paper you've summoned him in. but, perhaps, you two could share that meatsack of a body of yours, before things get that far.

[cherishedhope]

Dormleaders Reacting to Their Fanbase.

Genre: Crack?? I think it's crack. Not sure. Characters involved: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus. Synopsis: How I think they would react to having so many fans, fanfictions, etc. A/N: I made this a little short. Sorry. :( anyway enjoy!! <3 Disclaimer: This is solely for entertainment purposes only. No hate to any of the ships mentioned!! Characters could potentially be ooc. Mentions of NSFW content but there isn’t actually any in the post. NOT proofread. A/N 2: Malleus’s part was inspired by a convo I had w @moonswolfie . Go follow her. Her twst stories are just- *chefs kiss* Requests: Open!

————————————————————

— He's a bit shocked that he has a whole ass fanbase. Like-?? What?? I mean, yeah, he's well-known around the school but not for good reasons. But to know that he has thousands of people who actually enjoy are obsessed with him is pretty flattering.

— Ace and Deuce are also just as surprised if not more so. Probably even questioning the tastes of the people in our world.

— Appalled when he sees a bunch of posts dissing his mom. (does find it comforting knowing all of them are on his side and seriously questions his upbringing.)

— Turns into a tomato at an impossible rate of two seconds when he sees that a LOT of people are shipping him with Trey. A bunch of screaming and incoherent stuttering. I don’t think he has ever thought of Trey as more than a friend before. (Ace is dying in the background.) — Cater has already warned him of the nsfw tags so Riddle steers FAR FAR FAR away from it. His brain is already having trouble processing that he has people that ADORE everything about him. He can’t handle reading himself being intimate with hundreds of people. He does read a fluffy fic or two.

— I feel like he would take notes of how he acts in the fanfictions so he can apply fanfic Riddle’s actions to himself.

— Art? People make art of him? — Feels a sense of pride when he looks at the drawings people make of him. He’s flattered!

— Flustered as hell, but also super happy about it. Whenever he feels down he’ll think about all the people that like him and he starts feeling a lot better. :)

— THIS COCKY MF

— HE IS SO SMUG ABOUT IT

— Considers building an entire empire of his own with you guys as his loyal, devoted subjects. Then ultimately decides not to because that’s too much work and not enough time for sleep. (Then again, we would probably understand. You guys wouldn’t dare question HIM, right??)

— Definitely rubs it in Malleus’s face the first chance he gets.

— He is watching every single edit of himself he can find. Y’all don’t understand how big of a stroke this is to his ego. His head?? It's bigger than a hot air balloon at this point. Who wouldn’t react that way if someone made edits of them? It is a huge ego boost!

— Finally, after so long, he isn’t referred to as “Falena’s brother.” No. He is Leona Kingscholar. People like HIM. Hell, he could start an entire army with all the fans he has!

— Nothing can ruin his day.

— …..

— Physically recoils when he sees the Malleus x Leona tag. Powers off his phone and then throws it against the wall. He has never been more disgusted and disappointed in all of his life.

— he still likes you guys!! dw. Just give him a couple minutes hours and maybe he’ll get over it.

— What?

— Sorry, yeah, no, he isn’t believing any of you. There is NO way people would willingly sign up for one of his contracts and enjoy it.

— Once he finally snaps out of Denial River, he is still in disbelief. That quickly gives way to him scheming and plotting on how to use this to his advantage.

— Is a customer acting rowdy after signing one of his deals? Trying to sue him over it? Well, now he has thousands of witnesses to back him up. No one can touch him now. He is the most powerful of all!

— Someone tries to attack him? Tweels, release the hounds.

— He is UNTOUCHABLE

— He's too shy to read the fanfics. And he doesn’t wanna look at the edits of himself either. It makes him cringe inside. Not because of them being made. No, the people creating them have great talent. But the reason is because it's him. — He gets curious after a while and does take a look at one edit. JUST ONE!

— And now he's hiding out in his octopot scrolling through as many as he can find. He cries seeing all the love he gets.

— He prints out some of the fanart and hangs it up in his room.

— Whenever he feels self conscious he looks at the edits and then he’s all smiles and as confident as ever.

— FANS?? HIM??

— EEEE!!!!

— :DDDD

— NO WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!

— SCREAMING! JUMPING ALL OVER THE ROOM! SO MANY FRIENDS! KICKING HIS FEET AND GIGGLING! He wants to meet all of you!

— Feels obligated to read every fanfiction, like every fanart, watch every edit. Not because he wants to make himself feel good about it, but because he wants to see how talented you guys are! And he is not disappointed.

— Gets really sad when he realizes that he can't talk to any of you guys.

— :(

— JamiKali? What’s JamiKali? What's a ship??

— Nsfw?? What does that mean?

— It doesn’t take long for Jamil to take his phone away. He probably even puts restrictions on it so Kalim doesn’t get exposed to the more inappropriate side of his fanbase.

— He does not care.

— Flattered, sure, but not as excited as the others are. Yeah, it's surprising that people still worship the ground he walks on even in another world, but not too shocking.

— He scrolls through a bunch of fan arts and criticizes them. If it doesn't resemble him perfectly then he doesn’t care for it.

— Unironically calls you guys his “adoring” fans.

— Doesn’t even look at the fanfics. He already knows that he'll see things that aren't accurate to his character. (little does he know, a lot of people write him pretty well 😭)

— REFUSES to look at the ships. He doesn’t want to see people shipping him with Neige. He already deals with it from the fans in his world so he doesn’t want to see it in another.

— Most of his reaction to this is basically “um yeah, obviously I have a fanbase. 🙄”

— Like Azul, he also does not believe it. Him?? Why would someone as insignificant as him have a fanbase? You guys must have gotten knocked on the head or something when you were younger.

— Dies and ascends to heaven once he sees that people make fanfics/art/edits of him. HE IS EXPLODING WITH HAPPINESS. Holes himself up in his room and binges e v e r y t h i n g. He makes a collage of all his favorite fanarts and uses it as his wallpaper.

— Dies again when he finds out there are figurines of him. And plushies. And rings. And and and and.

— I think his favorite out of all of this would be the fanart. Have you guys seen Ignihyde stans?? Their art is literally gorgeous omksn

— His hair instantly transforms into pink flames when he spots the ships. Him with Azul? Him with Lilia?? Him with Silver?

— Considers each and every ship he sees. I doubt he can look the other person in the eye for a while.

— His self-esteem grows a lot bit so consider that a job well done for being an Idia stan 👍

— What is a fanbase?

— The only thing this man is going to understand is the art part of everything. He’s probably used to having his portrait done in Briar Valley, so that is the only thing his mind can figure out.

— Other than that, what is a “fan fic”? What is the point of moving pictures of him with upbeat music? A ship? Why do people keep saying he's in a ship with some random person from NRC? He is clearly on the ground by himself.

— After Lilia spends the next three hours explaining everything to clueless dragon boy, Malleus finally slightly understands what the internet is. (He still doesn’t understand ships.)

— So many new additions to the gargoyle club!! On the outside he appears calm and neutral but internally he is ecstatic and doing what humans call “running around the room screaming and crying.” There are so many humans that are interested in him droning on about gargoyles! Some even want to participate in the conversation!

— Sebek is in the background complimenting all of you for having good taste and following the young master.

— He's touched by the fact that so many humans are like Yuu and don’t find him intimidating at all and even look up to him as a father figure :) (Lilia failed to tell Malleus about what the “daddy” comments truly entail. )

— He does not care that you guys are in another world. He is gonna find a way to get into contact w y’all. He is NOT letting this many friends go to waste. 😤😤

[muletia]

Yknow what? At this point if megatron is obbsessed with human pussy then might aswell make soundwave join the party too. Hooray! Another decepticon joins in!!! Because we all know soundwave is very loyal and trust worthy to megatron, and megatron trust more to soundwave then the rest of the decepticons. Both honestly insane for y/n

Starscream on the other hand- he thinks this is getting ridiculous and just stare in horror😭

wrote this instead of studying. i cannot stop thinking about them handsome obsessed mechs man. and as for starscream - I have way different plans for him in this au thanks to one very delicious anon ask :))

When Soundwave joins your merry band of obsessed Decepticons, there’s no way for you to escape from the Nemesis (I mean, you’ll manage somehow, because this is crack—anything goes, and the bullshit flows freely). His master had already instructed him to monitor you constantly, especially since Optimus somehow keeps breaking onto their ship. Initially, Soundwave simply carried out the order without questioning his master’s decision. There wasn’t a shred of personal desire, sympathy, or sentiment in his actions.

Well, his motives change drastically when he concludes that you’re worth his attention. Curiosity turns into attachment, attachment into need, and need into hunger. From that moment, the order ceases to be an obligation fulfilled out of loyalty. It transforms into care. Into the need to protect. Under no circumstances could you fall back into the servos of the Autobots. Your place was here, on Megatron’s lap and under his watchful gaze.

I don’t think Soundwave hides his feelings. Even though he’s mute, calculated, and above all, a cold-blooded spy, Megatron easily guesses that his second-in-command has plans for you that go beyond his primary orders. His body language gives him away—tiny deviations noticeable only because of the eons of history they share. It’s subtle but undeniable. And astonishing, because Soundwave betrayed him. The most loyal follower stepped beyond the boundaries of an order, proving that the impossible became possible—that an apathetic machine could feel.

At first, Megatron is furious. He didn’t plan to share. He had already claimed you—you belonged to him alone, and once he won the war, you were to stay in his servos forever. There was no room for another mech, for anyone else. But possessiveness doesn’t get the chance to take root, completely consume his processor, and lead to irreversible, harmful decisions. This arrangement might prove fruitful, after all. Megatron still trusted his spy—more than any of his other subordinates. And so, he allows the partnership.

Your freedom on the Nemesis may have expanded, but hopping from one crazed Decepticon to another came with a catch tied to a suspiciously practical offer. Megatron informed you that from time to time, his second-in-command would take care of you, so you could forget about ever seeing the Autobots again. However, he didn’t tell you that his second-in-command was just as unhinged as he was—and apparently had plans for you that extended beyond passive observation.

Soundwave isn’t as touchy-feely. He doesn’t hold you against his chassis for hours to prove that his badonkers are bigger than his rival’s. He doesn’t demand touch from you, either. But there are moments when he forces closeness: stroking your hair, examining your body with his thin digits, massaging your back. He isn’t invasive like Megatron, nor harsh in his affections. His movements are subtle, carrying greater respect for you. After all, you didn’t fully belong to him. He only got a fraction, a small piece to calm his raging processor chanting your name. Megatron holds the reins and always will.

It’s most evident when they’re together in the same room. It’s on Megatron’s throne you sit, on his lap, as he recites Cybertronian romantic poetry or his own verses—mostly concerning his turbulent, sick feelings toward you. Soundwave is merely an observer. He doesn’t dare ask for more. He takes the scraps, but they’re enough because you’re close, because he has consistent access to you. He’s also content with his leader’s victory (at least until you return to the Autobots), because when you’re on the Nemesis, everything falls into place. The fire in their sparks burns fiercer, more fervently.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

Scars

Zoro x fem!Reader

CW: Angst, lots of angst, body image issues, self loathing, scars, injuries, mentions of nudity (nothing huge), trauma.

Word count: 1k

Notes: So many songs I could put with this, but mainly Labour, by Paris Paloma, and Us and Pigs, by Sofia Isella.

Her back felt itchy.

Chopper had said it would happen and the bruises had been quite nasty, so she supposed it was too be expected. Nonetheless it was still bothersome, and an awful reminder.

She didn't remember when it had been the last time she was this grateful that the Sunny was big enough to give all of the crew their own bedroom.

The sheets under her fingers felt soft, almost too soft, silk sheets that belonged to Nami without a doubt. The feeling was repulsive. Or was it the constant reminder? It didn't really matter, but it made her uncomfortable. No matter what position she chose she couldn't lay down onto the bed, so even though sleep felt very necessary it was an impossible task.

Her back was burning now.

The whole-body mirror stood right in front of her bed like a continuous mockery, the piece of fabric she had draped over it doing nothing to help with the remainder.

The reminders.

It seemed like everything around her served as one, the mirror, the feeling of soft material, and that damned feeling of burning.

She stood in front of the mirror. She knew it would disgust her, she was scared, of how much the damage would affect her if she truly chose to face it. The tips of her fingers caressed the fabric, her mind a mess, thoughts and indescisions fliying everywhere.

She closed her eyes, inhaled, her mind went quiet.

"Do it" like a whisper from herself, just a push so she would face it.

The first step towards healing, at least mentally. She exhaled.

Her grasp on the piece of cloth tight, the sound of air swooshing when she took it of the mirror, her knuckels white and her eyelids shut with a strength that could shake the entire ship.

"Open them"

No, she didn´t want to open them. Suddenly her back felt like it was on fire. She couldn´t, she simply couldn´t do it, so she turned her back to the mirror and finally opened her eyes, her gaze locked on the floor, the wooden boards marked with lines greeted her sight and she felt her eyes fill with tears, it made her wonder if her back looked anything like the wood.

Slowly, hesitant, she turned her face towards the mirror.

The sight was even more terrible than she expected; the markings of the whips had left no place of her back untouched, she had hoped it would had been only a few lines, she should have known better.

The bile on her stomach threathened to rise to her throath, bubbling angry, but there would have been no place for it to pass; her throath tightening under the sight. Her back and the tears in her eyes seemed to burn equally then.

Her knees felt weak and her eyes blurred, but she forced herself to stay standing and to look further, evey line every part of her that was healing messily, the knowledge that nothing of it would ever go away, her skin would protrude and never settle again.

She felt ugly, like she was mourning her own self. But saddness turned into anger, anger against the greedy marines who had done that to her.

An entire month tied to a pole outside their base like a fucking atraction, whiped whenever they felt like taking their stress out on her, sure, whip the pirate.

Anger turned to rage, rage about what was left of her and everything they had stolen too. Her dignity, her body, her soul and her hope. And rage was the one to throw the first punch against the mirror. The image cracked and suddenly there were even more reflections staring back at her.

She screamed, the voice scratching her throat, a gnawing feeling of dread at her own self. One punch became two, and then three, and four, until the biggest part left of the mirror could fit in the palm of her hand, her knuckles stained red with her own blood. With a final guttural scream she fell to the floor, and the scream turned into crying, loud and painful.

The door to her room opened with force, but she didn´t even look up. She recognized the sound of the heavy boots that belonged to the crew´s swordsman.

He approached her hastily, kneeling at her side and placing a hand on her back. The sting of his warm hand on her injuries made her push him back, retreating into a corner like a wonded animal, terrified for its fate. In her hurry and fear she couldn´t make coherent thoughts, she didn´t feel safe anywhere, she felt exposed and it was only then that she also remembered that she was still shirtless.

Shame piled up on her and covered her as though it was a very heavy blanket.

The green haired man approached her again, more carefully this time, with slow movements as if she could try to run away at any point. He raised both his hands by his head in a surrendering motion.

"Get away from me, I´m disgusting, don´t touch me" was what repeated constantly in her mind but she didn´t dare utter any of those words, she didn´t wnat him to see her as what she thought of herself, disguting.

So focused on her own mind was she that she hadn´t noticed how close he had gotten to her until his hand rested on her head gently, his warmth seeped into her skin and soon the tears were running down her cheeks once again. His eyes, usually a little dull and serious were as warm as his hands, they were kind, and they were worried about her.

Unlike what she expected, she found herself doing the next movement, practically jumping into his arms and sobbing on his shoulders, her hand tightly gripping his as if he was going to disappear at any moment. Zoro´s arms closed around her, one behind her head, holding her to him, and the other one on her lower back so that he wouldn´t touch any of her injuries.

"It´s okay" his touch said "I´ve got you".

[novaursa]

The Night They Came

- Summary: The night is dark and full of terrors.

- Paring: sister!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Note: This short story describes events of B&C, but if assassins succeeded in their mission.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (for blood, gore and death)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround

Maps are spread across the table, their edges curling slightly under the weight of time and hurried hands. Aemond stands tall, clad in black leather and polished silver armor that glints under the torchlight. His brow is furrowed, one eye sharp and calculating as it scans the map.

Ser Criston Cole leans beside him, pointing at the parchment with a gauntleted hand.

“The Velaryons will not take kindly to the shattering of their blockade. If they move toward the capital, we’ll—”

“Then we’ll burn their ships before they ever touch sail,” Aemond cuts in curtly, his voice low, yet it resonates through the chamber like a blade dragged across stone.

Criston glances at him, faint approval in his eyes. “Swift, but it’ll require Vhagar to—”

The sound splits the air like a knife to the gut—a scream.

Your scream.

It echoes through the stone halls of the Red Keep, piercing and raw, like an animal caught in a trap. Aemond’s head snaps up, his body going rigid. The blood drains from his face. Before he can even move, a second cry follows—one equally chilling, but distinctly Alicent’s.

“The nursery,” Criston breathes.

Aemond is already moving, his long legs carrying him toward the door in a flash of black and silver. Criston is close behind, his sword clinking faintly against his armor as they race through the halls.

The corridors seem impossibly long, the screams echoing in Aemond’s ears like the tolling of a death bell. The flicker of torches blurs as he runs, but your voice—high-pitched and frantic—grows closer.

“No! Please, no!”

Aemond reaches the nursery door and shoves it open with enough force that it slams against the wall.

The sight that meets him stops him cold.

The room is dimly lit by a single, swaying lantern, the shadows distorted and crawling across the walls. The air is heavy—sickly. The scent of blood is faint but unmistakable.

You are on the floor, trembling, your nightgown soaked and streaked with scarlet. One hand is outstretched as though to reach for something—or someone. Your other hand clutches a dagger, its tip still dripping crimson.

The cradle in the center of the room—the one where your and Aemond’s youngest slept—lies overturned, blood soaking the blankets. Your other children huddle in the corner of the room, their small faces streaked with tears. Their frightened cries pierce the silence: a daughter clinging to her younger brother, shielding his face from the scene before them.

Alicent is being held back by two guards near the door. Her face is pale and stricken with terror, her sobs strangled as she calls out names she cannot see.

“Aegor,” she gasps, collapsing against the guards. “Aegor…”

Aemond’s heart stops when his eye falls on the bloodied cradle and the small form that is missing from it.

“Y/N!” Aemond shouts, his voice hoarse.

You whip your head toward him, your tear-streaked face wide-eyed and frantic.

“They were here—they were—” you choke on your words, pointing toward the shadows, where faint footprints of blood trail out of the room.

Aemond drops to your side, gripping your shoulders tightly. “Who, Y/N? Who was here?”

“Two men,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “The rat-catcher and a man with knives—they came.” Your sobs wrack your body, and Aemond feels your trembling beneath his hands. “They—they killed Aegor.” Your voice breaks again. “They took his body, Aemond. They took him!”

The blood in Aemond’s veins runs cold, his mind struggling to process your words.

“And the children?” he asks, though dread already curls like a snake in his gut.

You don’t answer.

From the corner of the room, a tiny voice trembles, “Papa?”

Your daughter’s voice is so small, so full of terror that it shatters what little composure Aemond holds. He turns his head sharply, seeing your other children—your eldest daughter clutching her brother close, their faces pale and wet with tears.

“Father,” your daughter whimpers again, as though the very presence of her father might save her from this nightmare.

Aemond forces himself to speak, though his voice trembles. “It’s all right. I’m here. I’m here.”

“They—they said they’d come back,” the girl whispers faintly, clutching her brother tighter. “They said we would see the same fate.”

A cold chill runs down Aemond’s spine, but he stands, his face a mask of cold fury. Criston, who has just entered behind him, takes in the carnage with a grim expression.

“Aegor,” Aemond murmurs, his son’s name a growl in his throat. He looks to you, still slumped against the floor. “What did they do, Y/N? Tell me!”

“They—” You swallow thickly, unable to look at him. “They made me choose.”

The silence in the nursery is suffocating.

“What?” Criston’s voice cuts in, low and full of disbelief.

Your tear-filled gaze finally meets Aemond’s. “They made me choose which child to spare. I—I couldn’t—” A sob breaks free, your body curling into itself. “I couldn’t choose, Aemond! I tried, I tried to fight them…”

The rage that coils within Aemond’s chest is volcanic. His fists clench so tightly his knuckles whiten, and his jaw works as he grits his teeth.

“They killed him?” Criston says softly, as if testing the very words.

“They killed Aegor,” Alicent wails, collapsing to her knees. “And they took him…”

Aemond’s single violet eye burns, his pupil small with unrestrained fury. He moves toward the overturned cradle, the blood-streaked blankets tangled and empty.

“I’ll have their heads,” he snarls, his voice ice-cold, deadly. “Every man, every servant who aided them, every soul who dared let them into this keep—I will burn them alive.”

Criston steps forward. “Prince Aemond—”

“Find them,” Aemond spits, turning on his heel and glaring at Criston with such ferocity the Lord Commander takes a step back. “Find them before the day’s end, or I will see the entirety of Flea Bottom reduced to ash.”

Your faint whimper draws his attention again. Aemond’s fury softens—only slightly—as he kneels beside you once more. He cups your tear-streaked face in his hands, tilting it up to meet his gaze.

“I swear to you,” he says, voice low and hard, “they will pay for this. These men will beg for death before I am done with them.

From behind him, the soft sobs of your children echo, their cries quiet but haunting.

You clutch his arms, your blood-slicked fingers staining his black sleeves. “They took our son, Aemond…”

Aemond presses his forehead to yours, his eye shut tight as if to block out the world around him.

“Then I will bring him back,” he promises, though he knows the words are hollow.

And as the cries of the Red Keep continue to echo around you, you feel the walls of your world crumble.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

On Rising Swells

Part Seven of The Pirate AU. As always, 18+ for this series. No smut in this one, but they do take off their clothes for plot(?) ~4.4k words

You expect more to change, after finding out that your husband has strange, unexplainable magic running through his bones, after finding out that he died.

But nothing does, not really. Kori brings your dinner to Jason's quarters, you fall asleep alone, and when you find the courage to make your way above deck in the morning, there isn't a hint of blood on the wooden planks.

Jason keeps his distance, at least his version of distance. He lingers just out of your space, pretends to occupy himself with coiling lines and inspecting the horizon.

The crew treats you as if you've never left, as if an entire ship of soldiers weren't slaughtered in your name. It's almost overbearing, but Rose's lessons with your dagger and Roy's endless, friendly jokes and easy-going conversations lull you into a routine.

The Outlaws' ship is by no means small, but with only so many places to go and Jason's inability to be unaware of where you are, you're not surprised that within a few days he finds his way back into your bed as the moon rises. You should be more upset when he lifts the covers carefully, and oh so slowly, wraps his arms around your middle to pull you back against his chest.

But you can't find it in yourself to be mad, not really. His affliction, as otherworldly as it seems, kept him alive. And for as hurt as you want to be over being on the outside of another secret, what has its clutches on your heart is how much you missed him.

You missed his warmth when you were in Central City. His kisses across your skin. His sweet words and adoration and eyes that shine at you like you hold all the secrets of the world between your fingers.

You missed your husband, so if you trace his scars after his breathing evens out in the night and thank whatever higher power has healed his wounds time and time again, it is no one's business but your own.

The days pass to weeks as you settle into place. You relearn which knot is less likely to slip when you work high on the mast, you find your sea legs during a particularly nasty storm that cracks lightning across the ominous clouds.

You find out exactly how many rounds of ale, wine, and rum you can handle as Jason and his crew spins and sings tales of their adventures.

Their stories no longer seem so tall now that you've seen evidence of magic with your own eyes. The words they share about glowing stones, demigods with impossible strength, and sea monsters no longer ring as falsehoods or myth.

You can't help but be fascinated by Donna's whispered memories of her childhood, of the island made entirely of woman warriors that sound like they come from legend. You're equally enthralled by Roy's stories of Atlanteans and the sorcerers he's met who can command water and sea creatures with just their minds.

But skills and stories aren't the only things you've taken to committing to memory. It's your husband, Jason, who takes up most of your thoughts and time.

The sound of his laugh rings in your ears long since it's faded from the air. The feel of his hand steady on your back lingers even after he moves away. The smell of the sea and leather and something so uniquely him fills your bedsheets even after he's slipped from your side to navigate his ship through choppy waters.

You study him, when he's occupied with shouting orders to his crew, when his back is to you and all you can see is the foreboding red of his hat and coat that sends even the bravest of sailors to a state of panic.

He feels like a mystery sometimes, with scars even he fails to remember where or how he got.

But his breath still shallows the same when you press a kiss to his shoulder. His eyes still darken and focus completely on you in the moments before he drives you into seeing stars. He still kisses you like you're everything he's ever really wanted.

Weeks at sea with him have proven one thing over and over again, Jason Todd is still your husband, and that means he still feels like home, no matter how your doubts fester and curl in the pit of your stomach.

And you've found that you like being at sea, the adventure it brings. You like the crew and the friendship they've offered you. You, though you would never admit it out loud, like Jason. You like that he treats you the same as when you had first gotten married.

You like when he calls you treasure, when he says it as if you're truly the most precious thing in his possession.

You know all this, but you can't seem to stop yourself from darting closer and closer to the ship's railing, eyes fixed on the dark, churning water below.

All of this is true, and all of this you know. Even if it isn't perfect, you're the happiest you've been in years.

The world is at your fingertips, a pirate lord is at your beck and call, and the ships maps have been plotted for an island with sandy beaches and a secret lagoon that Jason swears has the most beautiful waterfall you'll ever see, and he can't wait to see you try jumping from its cliffs.

There's yelling behind you, shouts of your name and pleads, and your brain vaguely catches the word 'sirens'. In the back of your mind, you know that means something, but all you can really focus on is the mesmerizing song filling your every sense.

"Come closer," it– they– the water tells you. The voice is a symphony of everything you've ever wanted, all your innermost desires and longings in the cadence of Jason's.

A part of you knows that doesn't make sense. Jason went below deck to fetch you a heavier coat to stave off the chill of the impending storm, the wind that whips and bites at your face. But logic doesn't rule your mind at the moment.

"I can give you what you want," the ocean sings, and you listen. You don't feel the desperate hands grabbing at the back of your clothes as you launch yourself over the railing, all you notice is that there's suddenly no surface beneath your feet and that the voice– voices in the water are pitching with glee.

The fall is quick. A rush of air against your skin, and then you're freezing. It's enough to shake you from your trance for a moment, for you to realize how much danger you're in, for you to know that no matter how sweet Jason's voice is, it's not really him.

You have just enough time to be grateful you're not wearing the heavy layers of your old dresses, before the symphony of melodies starts again, surrounding you and drawing you back under their spell.

The waves crash over your head, cold fingers brush over your ankles, threatening to pull you down beneath the sea, but you aren't afraid. The song is beautiful, it whispers soothing promises of a pretty garden filled with roses and flowers you've never even dreamed of before.

He– they– sing about the life you were going to have, the life you did have. It weaves ballads of sunrise and sunsets while you lay on silk sheets and you swear you can see all that it's vowing to give you just below the surface of the water.

So you reach for it, draw in a deep breath and swim down and even as your lungs burn and vision blurs, you kick and claw and beg for the chance to just brush your fingers over the tune that's hypnotized you so completely.

The human-like shapes that dart around you aren't important, the bell-like laughs and dark dots that start to take over your vision don't mean a thing.

The voices lament poetry of promises of your future, even as your world starts to go black, "A family," they sing, painting you a picture of Roy, of Artemis, of Kori– the entire crew grinning and reaching for you, "You could be so happy with us."

A hand caresses your face, and the water itself seems to smile at you, beckoning you closer. You think you're about to reach it, you just need a little more, just one more second and everything you've dreamed of since the night you first lost your husband will be yours.

But it doesn't come. What comes instead is an arm around your waist, hauling your head back above the waves. You think you scream, or maybe the sea wails at the loss of you. You kick your feet, shove at the body dragging you through the water and away from the voice.

"Treasure," the voice– no– Jason snaps at you, "It's me, it's me. Stop fighting."

You sag for a moment, confused and exhausted. The song still has a hold on your mind, still has you wanting to dive back below the waves.You were so close, and if he could just let go of you, you could sink back down to where all your desires are waiting for you.

You suck in a breath, soothing your aching lungs as you try to find the energy to fight him. But something stops you.

Just pass his shoulder, a face bares its teeth at you. It's beautiful, with eyes reminiscent of crystal and diamond, but your every instinct screams danger. The thing– the siren lunges at you, and you bury your face in your husband's shoulder for what seems to be the last time as you wait for it to drag you below the waves.

But the siren never touches you. You're hauled into the air instead, Jason's harsh curses filling your ears, as he grapples with keeping one hand on you, and one on the rope tugging you both to safety. You feel nauseous as you scramble to grab onto Jason, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt to try and steady yourself.

Rough hands grab you once you near the railing, pulling you on deck as you cough water out of your lungs. The hypnotizing melody still hums in your ears, though it grows weaker, you still have the urge to follow it, but Jason's warmth against your side keeps you grounded, even as the ship rocks precariously in the rising waves.

Your throat burns as you sink to the ground. You didn't realize how much salt water you swallowed. Boots pound on the planks around you, gun shots occasionally sounding as the crew shouts at each other, but Jason doesn't move his body from yours. You don't look at him, can't.

You're almost embarrassed, ashamed to have been so desperate for a past you can't go back to that you fell for the siren's cursed song. You knew it wasn't him, that the Jason you married doesn't exist anymore, you just didn't realize how much of a hold that memory still had on you.

You feel even colder now that you're out of the water. You've lost one of your shoes to the sea, and your clothes stick uncomfortably to your body.

Jason says something. You can feel the vibrations of his voice against you, but you don't register the words. He presses a kiss to your temple. It makes your throat tighten. You almost died and, in turn, almost got him killed.

He stands, helping you up on your shaky legs before carefully passing you to Kori. He says something again as you slump against her, you catch the word 'tea' and 'just need a moment', before his presence is gone from your side.

You force your gaze to his back as he leaves. He's soaked, hair matted and dripping. There's claw marks torn into the back of his shirt, down his pants leg, but no sign of blood or injury. The sight makes you all the more nauseous and ashamed.

Kori turns you away from him and guides you below deck, towards the galley. She only stops to let Bizzaro wrap your shivering frame in a heavy blanket. She helps you sit, before flitting around the kitchen, and neither of you speak until she's pushed a hot mug into your hands.

You fidget, reeling, and eyes downcast. Your mind clears more, now that you're out of the air that seemed to vibrate with magic. You remember how you wanted to watch the storm clouds roll in over the horizon. How a soft lullaby started to fill the air, just after Jason left you to go below deck, and how the crew laughed over song.

'Pointless,' Roy had said, grinning and fearless, 'Siren magic can't touch us.' But it had certainly affected you.

"Why didn't anyone else jump," you ask quietly, almost uneasy to hear the answer. You wait for Kori to tell you that you're weak. That you were never meant to be among a crew of ruthless, but none the less talented pirates.

She says none of those things, just sits herself at your side, uncaring that you're slowly creating a puddle of sea water on the bench. "Oh, that would be Garth's spell."

You run a quick mental check, and, no, there's definitely no Garth on this ship. You huff, frustrated at yourself and your own lack of information, "Who's Garth."

She hums, absently mindedly, reaching out to push at your mug, encouraging you to drink, "He is known as Tempest, he sails with The Titans."

She waits for you to drink before continuing, "They owed us a favor, so he cast a spell on us that nulls siren's music. It's a boring story compared to what I usually tell you, no?"

"The Titans," you mumble, taking another sip of the tea. The Titans are familiar enough to you, a group of treasure hunting adventurers that've occasionally taken out some rather dangerous pirates. You think you recall them coming to Gotham once or twice, but you don't think you've ever seen their infamous captain Nightwing, "Why did they owe you?"

Kori pats your knee, eyes going a little sad, "There was… They had an issue with a mercenary. One we took care of. I suppose we forgot the spell's protection didn't extend to you. I'm sorry we didn't think of it and– I'm glad you're safe."

You open your mouth to wave off her apology with your own and explain that you should be thanking her for how much she's done for you, how at home and welcomed she's made you feel with her stories. (and maybe to pry into what mercenary could cause issues for a group like The Titans, who apparently have spellcasters within their crew)

But your words die in your throat as she continues to talk, plucking your empty mug from your hand to place it down, "But, you know, Jason never needed a spell. Even before, siren songs never affected him. He always said it was because he knew you couldn't be out here, that what they were promising wasn't real."

She smiles at you, then, warm and soft and fond, "It's easy to see why he loves you so much."

You think she's trying to make you feel better, and it almost works. You crave stories of your husband from the times you were without him, and it makes your heart ache to know how much he's really, truly loved you even after so much time apart.

But it serves just as much to make you guilty. Maybe you don't love him as much, or as strongly, if you were entranced by the spell. Maybe you're fighting a losing battle, by staying with him and his ship.

Your thoughts are cut short as the galley's doors are thrown open, and Jason, who you barely have time to note is still dripping with salt water, strides over to where you and Kori are sitting.

His eyes dart over you as he kneels at your feet, lifting your hands to rub some semblance of warmth back into your fingertips. "Does anything hurt," he asks gently, fretting as familiar worry lines crease his brow.

He raises your hands to his lips to blow warm air over your skin when you shake your head, his gaze not reassured of your truthfulness. You think he'd strip you bare right there on the table if not for Kori's easy, knowing smile over his mother henning.

She stands, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then one to Jason's, "Go dry off in your cabin, lovers."

Jason spares her a reluctant glance before focusing back on you, "But the storm–"

"Is something we can handle, Captain. Now go on, before they catch a cold," Kori nods to you on her way out the door, voice all light and teasing as she disappears down the hall. It's only then you start to notice that you've been shivering, the blanket nearly as wet as you are.

"Dry clothes first," Jason murmurs, eyeing your one boot. He scoops you up without warning, one arm under your knees and one across your back, to carry you through the door and towards his quarters. You hardly have the energy to protest, but you are aware enough to notice that his skin is warm to the touch.

"How are you not cold," you grumble, fidgeting with the threads of the blanket to occupy yourself. He seems to relax at the sound of your voice, but you can't quite pinpoint why.

He hums as he pushes open the door to his room, walking over to the bed to slowly sit you on the edge. He kneels down, removing your lone boot and making a face as you both watch the water that pours out of it. Jason pulls the blanket from your shoulders, tossing aside before answering, "I rarely get cold now."

He doesn't elaborate, and you want to pry, you do, but his fingers dip under your shirt, callused and hot against your skin. It's distracting in the nicest way.

He removes each layer of soaked fabric with a reverence that makes you want to melt in relief and cry in distress all at once. He peels the stockings from your thighs, a frown crosses his face at the faint scratches across your ankle. "You didn't mention these," he says, eyes snapping up to yours.

"I didn't feel them," you admit, honest. You don't remember losing your boot, didn't feel the claws that tried to drag you down. You just remember how much you wanted to swim deeper, follow the haunting melody that spun around you beneath the waves.

His gaze never leaves you, as he presses a loving kiss to your skin, soothing the sting of the marks, "I'll make it up to you."

That pulls you from your lulled state, and you knit your eyebrows as he begins to kiss his way up your calf, murmuring apologies, "It shouldn't have happened, treasure. Not to you."

"You're being ridiculous," You breathe out, reaching for the linens to cover your bare skin, "It was no one's fault but my own, and I'm fine, you pulled me out of the water."

His hands travel up your legs to rest on your thighs, not hiding his concern over the way you try to hide yourself from him, "My love, being affected by magic is not a burden for you to bear. Everything that happens on this ship is my responsibility. And that goes double for the one that's wearing my ring."

You lose your words at his reaction, his sentiments, unsure of what to do. Jason sighs heavily, wrapping his arms around your middle to draw you close, so that he can bury his face in your chest and listen to the beat of your heart.

You instinctively reach up to card your fingers through his wet hair. It's silent for a moment, and then he exhales shakily, "I thought you had– I was afraid, treasure, when you weren't where I had left you. I couldn't– all I saw were those things trying to lure you further from the ship."

You squeeze your eyes shut at his words. You knew, of course, that Jason was the reason you were alive, safe on board his ship. You knew he was the reason you didn't drown, left to be a meal for the mythical sirens. You knew that you both could have died.

But it's only now that you're settled, out of harm's way and on his bed that it really registers that he'd jumped into the stormy tides after you.

You wonder if he hesitated. You wonder if he doubted, for even a moment, that you were worth the trouble. You know it's unfair, and you can't find the words to ask, so you open your eyes to look down at him. "You're still soaked," you say instead, pointing out the obvious and letting your hand fall from his hair.

He laughs a little, pressing a kiss over your heart, before standing to strip out of his own sea-matted clothes. Jason doesn't bother dressing as he guides both of you towards the center of the bed. You can tell he has half a mind to just lay on top of you, to keep you shielded on the off-chance there's magic still controlling your mind.

You're grateful that he doesn't. He tangles his legs with yours instead, as you lay on your side, and he presses his forehead to yours, eyes blown wide, but so intently focused.

"I can't lose you again," he tells you, one hand pressed firmly against the small of your back, and the other curled around the nape of your neck, holding you steady.

"I don't have the strength for it, treasure," he whispers, voice lowering as he searches your eyes for something, though you can't begin to guess for what. His words are familiar, heavy, and you find yourself wanting to say the right thing.

"I have nowhere to go," you try, hoping your words are what he's looking for, "and I want to see that island you promised me. Santa Prisca, right? With the best rum of all the isles?"

You think you got it wrong, that he might be disappointed, when his arm leaves your waist so he can cup your face, "Darling, you know you can rely on me for anything. Whatever you saw down there, whatever they promised you, I'd find a way to give it to you. You know that, right?"

"I know," you say softly, almost overwhelmed by the sureness of his voice, the firmness of his gaze. Flashes of the life they showed you rear their head in your mind's eye. The garden. The roses. The sunrise on your skin. A family. Him as he was. The past and a future that seemed so secure ripped away.

"And if, treasure– if this isn't enough–"

You surge forward to kiss him, silencing his words. The ache in his voice, the anxieties in his eyes, every part of you wants to quell them. What the sirens showed you is unreachable, and for as broken and confusing as things are now, Jason Todd is your husband. Your vows, your love– none of that has changed even if both of you have.

You only pull away when the tension starts to fade from his body, "This is enough. What they showed me doesn't mean anything. It wasn't real."

He studies you for a moment, thumb brushing over your cheek, "What did you see, love? What called you away from me so desperately?"

"I don't remember," you answer quickly, maybe a little too quickly to be believable. But Jason doesn't press, only wraps you up more securely in his arms, warding off the chill of the ocean that lingers in your bones.

"The sea should calm tomorrow," he murmurs, pressing his face to the top of your head, "With the wind on our side we'll be shore side in a few days and you can try all the rum you'd ever want to, treasure."

It's an olive branch, you think, a way to let you keep your words buried in your throat. Jason would let you drift to sleep, pretend that none of this happened, and he didn't dive headfirst in danger for you, and you didn't lie about why you did. It feels wrong, cruel even, to not attempt to trust in him.

"There was a garden," you whisper like it's a grand secret, "filled with flowers I've never seen before. Some that I didn't even know existed." You know it's not enough, that there's no way he'd believe you'd throw yourself over the side of the ship for just the promise of some pretty petals.

But he smiles into your hair and starts to trace patterns across your back, "Flowers, huh, treasure? I can do that."

"I saw the crew," you breathe out, tucking your face against him to hide whatever weakness you're sure is painting your face.

"Aye," he prompts, dragging his hand tenderly over your spine, "Did you?"

"You were there, too," You say, speaking before you can second guess yourself, voice going even more hushed as the air seems to go still at your admission.

His fingers still on your skin before continuing their absentminded path, "Is that so?"

You nod against his chest, you almost feel lighter, freer, at peeling away some of the armor around your heart.

Jason nuzzles at the top of your head, and starts to press kisses down to your ear, "I am here. With you. That's not going to change." He pulls the blankets higher over your body as you melt against him, all your worries, wrongs, and doubts, quiet and locked away in the back of your mind.

His warmth, his touch, the steady rocking of the ship, and promises of new sights to see on calmer waters is enough to let you succumb to your exhaustion.

But even as you drift off, you can't quite escape from the memory of the siren's song in your ears. A family, they'd sung, an idea you'd never really thought of before, at least not past Jason. But they had sung it to you, pulled it, supposedly, from the deepest parts of your heart.

It nags at you, from the corner of your mind as sleep wins out, even with the steady sounds of Jason's breathing and his fingers soothing over your skin. And it almost feels like, maybe, they knew something you didn't.

[nekomacheercaptain]

Day 5: Forced proximity

This is my first time writing for Zoro…

Zoro thought it would be fun to go on a hike in the snowy mountains, saying something about "needing firewood". You, for some reason, didn't question him when he took the lead?? Oh no... what are two people supposed to do to keep warm when they are lost in the cold?

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x fem! reader

Rating: explicit mature content (18+), NSFW

Word count: 2,1K

Content: female reader, forced proximity, oral sex (fem! receiving), very tiny bit of nipple play, slight body worship

"Remind me why I let you lead?"

Zoro shrugged his shoulders, "'Cause I know where we're going."

You looked down at the snow only to see another set of identical footprints, "...Really?"

"Yeah," the swordsman kept walking, not detecting the question in your voice.

This had been an entirely avoidable situation, and to make it worse, it was getting dark and there didn’t appear to be a shelter anywhere, only the two of you surrounded by snow and a mountain, “…and where are we going?”

Zoro grumbled in response, “To the ship.”

“I know the Sunny has a tendency to stray, but I can’t really see any water nearby,” you grumbled back, the cold freezing your normally cheerier attitude.

Zoro merely looked over his shoulder, giving you a small side-eye as he walked, his hand relaxing on the handle of his sword. You decided silence was for the better until you would at least got some heat back into your body, feeling the cold starting to bite at your face.

Collecting branches as you went a while longer, you noticed a crack in the mountain wall, pushing a reluctant (only for show) Zoro towards it saying you finally found some sanctuary, the Sunny and proper sleep be damned. Zoro was glad for some respite too, but remained silent. The crack proved to be more of a cave, not too deep so you knew there weren’t any animals occupying the shadows, and just deep enough that snow didn’t reach all the way in, providing a dry ground to lie on. Zoro wasted no time in proving that, heavy body on the ground with his hands resting under his head.

“No complaints from you, then,” you chuckled before kneeling beside him, making quick work of the branches and magically getting a small fire going. Trying with all your might to ignore the smell of smoke filling the small cave, you looked to Zoro, seeing him already somehow comfortable, while the cold was still deep in your body. The tiny little campfire wasn’t enough to warm you up like you needed to, so it couldn’t be too wrong to ask your dear crewmate if he could share some of his body heat with you? Although, it was a request you had never made before.

“Zoro?”

A small hum came from him, his eye closed.

“I’m cold.”

Without even missing a beat, Zoro offered an arm and opening his coat, waiting for you to lay down at his side. He was used to being somewhat of a heater for the crew; and though he didn’t show it, he was delighted it was finally your turn. Yet, when all you did was lay flat on your back with just his arm as a pillow, the swordsman couldn’t help but look at you, his deep voice catching you off guard, “Not getting any warmer like that, are you?”

“….Not really, no,” at your response Zoro wrapped his arm around you to push you closer, your frame now glued to his side, his hand resting on your arm. And you sighed at how lovely it felt being so close to him, one of your hands laying on his abdomen - the placement making you feel almost needy. Small shivers born from excitement shot down your spine when you could feel the firm muscles hidden beneath his shirt, and your body started heating up, an ache forming in your core. And nothing had even happened.

You tried to close your eyes to force some sleep upon your exhausted body, but as you very well knew, once the ache start, it’d damn near impossible to get rid of. And having Zoro so near and so close… and so warm and damn muscular… your imagination ran wild with all the places one possibly could let your hands roam on a body, and what places the swordsman would enjoy feeling you. Better yet, what places he could touch you, and not limiting his resources to his hands - he had a more than capable mouth on him, accompanied by a tongue. Oh, he would get creative, wouldn’t he? His jaw had to be strong, if he could carry a heavy sword with it, what else could he slobber up with-

“Gonna stare all night?”

Apparently you had been too immersed in your thoughts to notice how you had been down right ogling him, and he gave you a small smirk, “Don’t stop on my account, seems like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Well, uh… there isn’t much else to do in a cave,” you laugh lowly, “have to find some form of entertainment, y’know?”

He quirked a brow at that, smirk growing, “Oh?”

And shit. The same damn smile and tone whenever you agree to spar with him; however, his eyes held an unfamiliar passion… no, hunger you hadn’t observed on him before. Before you could question him, Zoro had you trapped beneath him, his knees resting just beneath your rear, your legs slung over his hips.

“Getting restless with me, pretty girl?” Zoro teased down at your bewildered expression, “Didn’t know you found me so boring.”

His eye was half-lidded, full of desire, and having Zoro look down at you like that made the dull ache between your legs transform into a pulse, suddenly unbearable. And from the unexpected situation you found yourself in, your voice was small as you took in the sight of him, “Could never find you boring…”

Zoro hummed at that and leaned down, teasing you with how his lips were oh so close to yours, “Want something, sweetheart?”

He was relishing how easy it was to fluster you, glad you weren’t stopping his advances. And yet, he liked how fun it was to tease you. To see how your eyes flickered to his eyes for mercy, to his lips for passion, and down in impatience, your hands gripping his coat like it would vanish at your touch, “Zoro…”

“Hm?” he let out a small sound, humor clear in his gaze, “That’s not much of an answer.”

One of his hands cupped your cheek and you leaned your weight into his calloused palm, sighing loudly at his touch, excitement bubbling inside you at the otherwise wholesome contact, “I want you, Zoro… isn’t that obvious? Haven’t it been obvious for so long?”

If your confession surprised him, he didn’t let it show, instead he tilted your head, your breaths mixing and hot on your cheeks. Your eyes locked with his, his thumb softly caressing your bottom lip while he pressed his body tightly against yours, like it could never be close enough. And for someone who was wearing three layers more than he wanted, Zoro would probably want nothing more than to get rid of every- and anything separating you. And with a weak tug at his coat, Zoro chuckled before enveloping his lips with yours.

As his lips moved softly against your own, his musky scent filled your senses, making your mind foggy with desire for him. One that had been harboring and suppressed for so long finally escaped, making you unable to hold back the moans just from kissing him, your back arching off the ground to meet him better, moaning when his tongue swiped over your lips, eager to taste more of you.

“So needy, huh?” Zoro teased with a grunt into your lips, his hips grinding softly into yours, adoring the noises you were making for him. His hands fumbled with your coat and when you noticed, you joined in on it too, wanting to feel his touch on your bare skin, wanting him so impossibly near he could melt into you.

When enough skin was exposed, Zoro broke the kiss, both of you panting before he trailed kisses down your jaw, before continuing down your neck, helping you get your arms out of the coat. His warm tongue and eager lips sucked and licked on your skin while grunting, groaning as he humped softly against you, his bulge pressing deliciously against your still clothed cunt.

“Fuck, Zoro,” you gasped, hands brushing his short hair.

“Yeah, sweetheart? That feel good?” Zoro murmured into your neck, his hands pulling off your shirt, before his lips were attached to the slope of your breasts, pressing hungry kisses against your skin while taking struggling with the clasp of your bra.

You breathed out a small laugh, arching your back to help him, sighing when he finally got it off before you moaned loudly as his lips and hands worshipped your breasts, changing between suckling and palming them. You rarely saw Zoro so eager and curious, but each new reveal of skin, Zoro seemed to fall into an abyss of pleasure - gaining satisfaction just from touching you. He was also playful, his teeth lightly tugging at your nipple just to see and hear your reaction, growling lightly as your sounds met his ears.

When his hands reached your pants, Zoro leaned a little back on his heels, looking at you intently as he started unfastening them, looking at every single inch of newly revealed skin - planting a small kiss on the inside of your thigh while pulling your pants off completely.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your leg as he trailed his kisses, “been driving me mad…”

Zoro folded you in half, ignoring the throbbing in his knees from pressing into the ground, an almost wicked grin on his face as he eyed your underwear slick with arousal, “Such a dirty girl.”

Zoro licked at the wet spot, inhaling the smell of you, just as he had wanted to for so long. You moaned loudly, bucking your hip in instinct, hands finding his hair once more to tug at what you could. Zoro continued to work his tongue and lips against the cloth, stimulating your needy cunt enough to feel the pressure build inside you. Zoro hummed and chuckled against you, his chin glistening when he departed, “Fuck, you taste so good, sweetheart, and absolutely drenched for me.”

Zoro was drunk on lust, the taste of you better than any sake or drink in the world, any drop he could lick from you like pure nectar he was already getting addicted to. His fingers hooked themselves on the band of your panties, pulling them off while slobbering kisses on your thighs just close enough where you actually wanted him, making you whine his name and tug at his green strands. And not before your panties were thrown to the ground with an almost embarrassing slap due to being so drenched, Zoro didn’t give you a chance to breathe as he devoured you whole - his tongue flicking over your clit while his fingers played with your folds and teasing your entrance.

Writhing against your coat, you were whining and moaning at the sensations, adoring how his lips and tongue could barely decide how to worship you, switching between laying his tongue flat while licking through your folds, or using the tip of his tongue to tease, playing with patterns, before suckling and kissing on your folds, his thumb circling your sensitive nub. With Zoro experimenting with your pleasure, you wondered who was actually annoying themselves more; you or Zoro, him letting out just as many sounds of enjoyment as you were. Yet, when you felt yourself getting close to the edge, you were desperate for more, for everything that Zoro could give you.

“Please, Zoro,” you whined loudly, sweat starting to cover your body, “I-I’m getting close!”

Zoro gave no response, but plunged a finger into you without remorse, humming and grunting when you moaned as your walls contracted around him, continuing to kiss and suckle on your cunt, his tongue relentless on your clit, leaving your legs shaking as you neared your peak.

With each passing second you grew more sensitive, writhing and thrashing beneath his strong grasp as he forced the pleasure on you, adding another finger that reached and stretched so far you could only cry at the pleasure, feeling a string threaten to snap in your core at all the things Zoro was making you feel. His name was just pathetic blabbering rolling off your tongue as you were dazed in pleasure, yet his name had never sounded better.

Zoro continued the near-assault on your sensitive cunt until he felt your body shake and your walls pulse uncontrollably around him, your moans and scream silent as your orgasm washed over you, Zoro slowing down his movements to help you through the intense pleasure, groaning at the deathgrip you had on his hair. When you fell limp, Zoro’s mouth and fingers left you with a wet sound, before he dressed you well enough to lay you on his chest, his coat wrapped around you.

Getting lost wasn’t all that bad after all… getting back to the ship could wait until morning.

Note: As I said, this is my first time writing for Zoro, I'm sorry if he's very ooc.... Also I'm doing VERY shit kinktober this year and I'm so sad about it FUCK... Anyways, thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed it! If you want to join my taglist, you can find it here! Dividers by @/benkeibear

[thebluejoker]

SHARING A ROOM WITH THEM

WARNINGS: No NSFW, SFW ONLY

TAGS: Teasing, feeling a little bit guilty, fluff

SHIP: Jax x reader, Ragatha x reader

JAX

It's his fault

He decided to sneak into your room and leave some spiders there

Yeah, he knew you were afraid of them, that's kinda the point

He expected some screams, yells and frustration

What he didn't expect, was you not entering your room after finding out about the spiders

You REFUSED to go to sleep or even be near your door

Caine was somewhere else so he couldn't help you with the bugs

Ragatha isn't fan of bugs as well, so she politely declined your offer to get rid of them

She could take you into her room, but she wouldn't leave Jax with a punishment

And his punishment was you sad, right?

He wasn't satisfied with the news

I mean, yeah he pranked you, so what?

"Get over it, kid. You're not spending this night in my room"

He said and turned away to leave

He would eventually leave, if Ragatha didn't threatened to push him into the void

It sounded more like a promise by the way

So, later on, you were in his room, standing with a pillow and blanket that Ragatha gave you

She prayed for you as well

Jax, without hesitation, told you to sleep on the floor

There was only one bed and it was his only

As always, he expected you to be mad or upset

"Alright"

You said and seriously laid down on the floor, covering yourself up with the warm blanket and nuzzling into the pillow

That did surprise Jax

You didn't want to be near him so bad that you just went along with sleeping on the floor?

So easily???

WITHOUT SAYING A WORD???????

Nah, that cracked his ego

Yeah, he's an asshole, but not that bad one that you just sleep on the floor, without even looking bothered by it

Eventually he just dragged you into the bed

And I mean, DRAGGED

You refused to go into his bed, your literally fighted for your life, self-love and ego

But that purple rabbit is taller and stronger than you even though he looks like a damn stick

He didn't just drag you into his bed cause his ego was slightly cracked, but also cause he wanted to test a new way of teasing

He wrapped his arms around you

Yeah, it seems to sound romantic, but it was more like he was keeping you in jail

"You leave and I put a spider in your mouth"

You immediately stop fighting and just laid there, hoping that he was joking

The night started to get darker and deeper

But that doesn't mean he stopped talking

Or rather teasing

"I can hear you heartbeat getting quicker, crybaby"

He couldn't

You were the one pressed against his chest

In fact, his heartbeat was quicker than usual

He would never admit it, but it was the best night of his life here

You on other side couldn't sleep, thinking of how he would put a spider in your mouth

By the way, after that he putted bugs into your room more often

RAGATHA

Oh, you both were having a sleepover

After you appeared in the amazing digital circus, you both quickly got along

You were good friends

Spending time with each other everyday

Eating lunch, dinner, dinner, breakfast, dinner, lunch together don't know what time it is, so..

Joking together

Hating Jax together

Being afraid of centipedes together

So, no wonder you came up with an idea to have a sleepover

You seemed to be very excited

While Ragatha too, but she felt nervous at the thought of sharing a bed with you

Not like she didn't wanted it

In fact, she wanted it very much

But it was quite embarrassing and it made her doll heart race

At the beginning, you both gossiped

Guess about who

You both also laughed like horses, interrupting everyone else sleep

You also tried to make her hair, but it was quite impossible

It was all good and nice until you both were tired if it's even possible in Digital circus

It was time for sleep

When you both laid down together, Ragatha thought she would "die"

You on the other side immediately fell asleep, feeling really comfortable

She's a soft toy after all

Ragatha couldn't sleep

Or move

Not sure if breath

She was afraid to wake you up

"They look so cute.."

[necrotic-nephilim]

au - tim sneaking out of jason's room one night at the manor and accidentally locking eyes with dick who is sneaking out of bruce's room at the exact same time, breakfast is very awkward the next morning

(i did think of having it be jason instead of tim but honestly jason has 0 shame and even less issue outing himself if it means fucking with bruce and, to a lesser extent, dick)

i'm cackling I love these types of things so much. they're so silly. sometimes we deserve mindless crack for these ships. have a *very* low effort ficlet bc this just makes me snort, enjoy <3

Dick closed Bruce's door as quietly as he could. Usually, he didn't have to sneak around when he slept with Bruce. But the temporary room Bruce had given Jason in the manor was just down the hall, and Dick didn't feel like looking Jason in the eye if he walked out of Bruce's bedroom in the morning at the wrong time.

Just because he was pretty sure Jason knew, didn't mean he needed confirmation and confrontation.

Dick had almost caved to staying in bed with Bruce when Bruce tried to pull him back down, but he kept some level of wits about him, prying Bruce's arm off of him and giving him a final kiss on the cheek before heading for the door.

The one thing Dick did allow himself, though, was wearing one of Bruce's shirts instead of his own. It was a size too large on him but smelled safe and comforting. Dick breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the door latched silently. He let go of the handle, turning around to creep off to his own bedroom in another wing.

And found himself staring at another figure.

With all of the lights off and only faint moonlight streaming through the windows, Dick couldn't tell who it was, at first. His reaction was embarrassing no matter who it was, jumping nearly a foot backward and clutching a hand over his chest.

He was a goddamn vigilante. This was just embarrassing.

The other person wasn't nearly as shocked as Dick, but they stood perfectly still, staring with wide eyes that faintly reflected what little light illuminated their face. Dick squinted, leaning forward to see who it was.

"Tim?" Dick hissed, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. Bruce had fallen asleep and if Dick woke him up now, he was never going to get the stubborn bastard back to bed.

Tim, still looking like a deer in headlights, just blinked at Dick.

"What are you doing up this late?" Dick asked. They'd all agreed to take tonight's patrol off, letting Babs, Helena, Dinah, and Zinda handle it in exchange for tackling the massive human trafficking ring in the morning with fresh eyes and cleared heads. The job was the only thing that had gotten Jason to agree to work with them in the first place. Bruce barely managed to strong-arm Jason into sleeping in the manor, with a decent amount of guilting from Alfred.

Jason, who was in the room only a few feet away from Dick. The room that Tim's hand was resting on the doorknob of.

"That's Jason's room," Dick said slowly.

Tim just nodded. "I know." He wasn't whispering like Dick was, but his tone remained impossible to read.

He just saw Dick walk out of Bruce's room. Had he put it together? It was Tim, after all. if he hadn't yet, Dick assumed he only had a couple minutes before it dawned on Tim.

"What were you doing in Jason's room?" Dick frowned. If he focused on Tim, it could keep the focus off of him for as long as possible. Dick tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating.

Tim's expression was hard to make out in the dark. "We were talking about the case." Still, his tone remained entirely neutral.

Too neutral, for Tim.

"At two am?"

"Well, what were you doing?" Tim huffed slightly when he said it, folding his arms over his chest.

He was shirtless, Dick just realized.

Shirtless and coming out of Jason's room.

"I was-" Dick stumbled over his words, choking as he tried to come up with an alibi. "We were talking about the-"

"I already used that excuse, pick your own," Tim deadpanned. Dick was pretty sure he also rolled his eyes. "I've known about you and Bruce for years, you know. You don't have to pretend."

The noise that came out of Dick's throat was almost as mortifying as the realization that not only did Jason likely know, but so did Tim.

"It... okay it has not been years," Dick's face was hot and he was glad it was too dark for Tim to see his blush. "I mean- it's been a while but not years-"

"Whatever you say." Tim shrugged, sounding unconvinced. "There have been feelings between you two for years, close enough for me."

If Dick died, right here, in this hallway in front of Bruce's door, he hoped the cause of death would be put down as homicide instead of natural causes. Because every word from Tim's mouth made another piece of Dick die inside, just a little.

"It's none of your business either way." Dick tried to stand up straight to sound more in control of the situation, clearing his throat.

"Trust me, I don't want it to be my business."

Dick would've laughed, if this was happening to anyone but him.

"What about... you and Jason?" Dick asked carefully.

Tim shifted on his feet. "What about it? I told you, we were talking about the case."

"Right." It was Dick's turn to roll his eyes. "In his bedroom, at two am, without your shirt?"

Tim stared at Dick for a long, torturous moment. A moment that made Dick agree with Tim, about not wanting to know any sordid details.

"I'm going to bed," Tim said suddenly, turning away from Dick. "Goodnight."

Dick had a thousand more questions he wanted to ask. How Tim and Jason even got together, when it happened. Last Dick knew, they could barely stand to be in the same room.

But Tim was walking away at an alarmingly brisk pace and Dick just sighed. He was too tired and mortified about his own secrets to chase Tim down for an impromptu interrogation that would just end up embarrassing them both more.

Maybe it was best for Dick's sanity if he didn't know the specifics.

Dick didn't consider how awkward it would be until he was standing in the kitchen, staring at Jason bent over a cup of coffee.

Did Jason know Dick knew? It didn't seem like he did, but he had always had a good poker face.

When Tim ambled into the kitchen and grabbed overnight oats from the fridge, he didn't even look at Dick. He seemed to be pointedly avoiding it, sitting as far away from Dick as he could at the oversized dining room table.

All while Dick couldn't seem to stop staring.

"Your cereal is going to get soggy," Jason muttered, and it took Dick a moment to realize Jason was talking to him. "At least eat it before trying to explode my head with your mind, or whatever your staring problem is."

"I'm not-" Dick stuttered. he shut himself up with a mouthful of cereal when Cass gave him an odd look.

Would she be able to figure it out just from his body language?

Dick had never fully understood the lengths her ability to read people could go. he looked away from her and stared at a random spot on the table, trying to eat at a normal pace.

Bruce was the last to wander into the kitchen. He squeezed Dick's shoulder as he walked by, making Dick jump. It was an innocent enough touch that no one would question, but all Dick could think about was the brief look from Tim before he quickly averted his eyes again.

The silence around the table was going to eat Dick alive. He started eating cereal faster.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jason broke the tension, throwing his head back and slamming an empty mug down onto the table. "Everyone knows you two are fucking, alright?" He gestured between Dick and Bruce. "Stop being so goddamn weird about it, you're acting like there's a bomb in the room."

Bruce choked on his coffee. "Jason." He tried to sound reprimanding, but his voice was a few octaves too high.

Dick threw his hands in the air. "I knew you knew about that, but I didn't know about you and Tim until last night so excuse me for feeling a little awkward."

"You didn't know about what?" Bruce nearly yelled, spinning around to face Jason.

"Damnit, Dick!" Tim groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Jason just scoffed, pointing a fork at Bruce. "Oh don't even give me that self-righteous bullshit-"

Their argument went back and forth while Tim just rubbed his temples, muttering to himself and glaring at Dick.

Worst of all, Dick was pretty sure Cass was giggling next to him under her covered mouth.

Dick just sighed and ducked his head, dutifully waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

So much for his breakfast.

[proxycrit]

Elesa climbs to celestial tower to ring the bell. Emmet, stuck in between the distortion world, finds his way home.

Part 1/ Part 2

The conductor falls, down, down, down.

“What’s my name?” He calls to the abyss in terror (what is terror?)

He’s a singular being, right? (That’s not right. He’s one of a pair.)

The abyss gazes back. It has no answers to give, in its multitude.

Not to someone that’s so, so alone.

———

Somewhere else, one Elesa of Nimbasa rings the Celestial Tower’s Bell, over and over. Her companion, Chandelure, keeps watch.

Nothing happens.

Elesa’s stomach sinks. The reverberations of Celestial Tower’s brass bell mocks her in its echo. The vibrations of it’s distortion only makes the tears she tries to hold at bay worse.

In the blur of her failure, she sees chandelure’s flames suddenly die. Part of her panics.

The rest of her is apathetic and numb.

What’s the point? It didn’t work. Elesa closes her eyes. Tries to swallow, and fails. She’s so tired. She’s so, so tired. The deal with Azelf, the media storm she’s weathered, the constraints of her job, the almost loss of chandelure-

Emmet has been gone for three months. Ingo has been gone even longer.

They have gone where she can’t follow.

Elesa, the ghost whispers in her head. Elesa shakes her head in denial. She doesn’t want to plan right now. She wants to curl into herself, and disappear, just for a bit.

Elesa!

“I can’t do this,” she croaks. The sob in the back of her throat bubbles outwards. She wants Zebrstika. She wants Skyla. She wants her friends.

The paliphet Azelf forced her forward. It permeates her thoughts, drowning out logical thought.

(Too much willpower, and it will become an obsession, Azelf had warned her once in Ingo’s voice. And then, in Emmet’s voice: And when you fail, it willll break you. And finally, in her own voice: you will not have a choice but to move forward, with this curse.

I accept, elesa and told it back in the lake.)

I’m so tired, Elesa thinks now, two months later.

But she keeps moving forward. The bell rings again as Elesa strikes it, with all the hurt and rage and longing forced by her own hand into her soul-

-And that’s when chandelure screams, and there is a terrible rolling crack, and Elesa feels the sudden lurch in her gut as she looks up, her apathy torn into shreds as-

The sky tears open in a fractal wave.

Elesa gapes.

She can not comprehend the sudden black webbing across the sky. In the distance, sirens suddenly start wailing as people stop to perceive the impossible.

But Elesa does not care, because in that moment, the wrench in her gut is so great she almost staggers off the platform. Chandelure is by her side in an instant, her glass body a warm comfort to the sudden chill, because-

Something white is falling.

Elesa’s doesn’t know what she yells. But the tug in her chest feels like the beat of a drum, and she is helpless to the melody that calls for action.

Azelf’s blessed takes a leaping step forward, off the building. Chandelure lets out a panicked chime and the warmth of psychic cradles Elesa as she reaches out, arms outstretched, falling and flying and-

And Emmet, sparking with white electricity, reaches back.

NOTES:

AU’s Salvaging the Ship of Theseus! Everybody has a Bad Time. (Emmet and Eelektross go to Hisui and learn about the joys of the distortion world. Elesa hunts legends and makes bad deals. Ingo babysits some sneaslets.)

Backstory and explanation:

Prior this scene, Emmet was travelling Hisui with Eelektross before he falls through a mirror and becomes lost in the distortion world for a month. Elesa and Chandelure, meanwhile, refuse to give up on their remaining friend. (Ingo’s fine! He’s in Hisui right now trying to get fired so he can go searching for his memories. Eelektross is… less fine. We will Worry about That Later.)

Disclaimers: Everything’s a work in progress and subject to change!

Part 2!