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zosan-secondchances · 1 month ago

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The Pirate King of the North: Part 6 with Sanji Character Sheet

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

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

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In the wealthier district of Sabaody Archipelago, Zoro perches on the roof of a tall bell tower. From afar, he carefully watches a squad of royal guards lead slaves that are carrying two individuals on their backs all the way from Sabao Dome. They finally stop at a particularly large mansion behind high iron gates and thick brick walls. Inside, there is a polished garden that has thick ivies climbing up to the very top of the marble facade of the main building. The slaves set down the heavy carrier by the entrance, then the Celestial Dragon ushers Sanji into his house. The swordsman sighs in disappointment, silently cursing the situation at hand. He’d hoped to have an opening where he can nab the blonde while they’re outside but it never came to, given how many guards there were.

Law continues to speak on the line of his transponder snail.

Law

Don't do anything stupid. Wait for us and just keep tabs on the line.

Zoro

No. No matter what you do, stay away. I don’t think they’ve linked you guys with Curls yet and I'd rather it stay that way. Have you got the rest of the Heart Pirates with you?

Law

They arrived about five minutes ago. They’re…not happy to say the least.

Zoro hears several familiar voices in the background, begging the swordsman for forgiveness and crying out for Sanji to come back safely.

Law

So what now, swordsman? How do you plan to infiltrate the most heavily guarded holiday house in Sabaody Archipelago by yourself? You need my power. It'll take seconds to get him out as soon as I get there.

Zoro

I said, no. Look, these guys don't joke around. If they see you somehow cause trouble for any World Nobles, they'll send an Admiral to hunt you down until you're dead or imprisoned. If I think he's going to do what I think he intends to do, he very well may be turning the entire world against him.

Law

And…what's that?

Zoro

I think he wants to kill the Celestial Dragon.

—

It was easy enough to hurdle the initial gates, but staying hidden in the enclosed area is proving to be just as difficult as he expected. Zoro can’t rely on staying on the ground as there are too many patrols. And he can’t break inside the mansion from above because that would mean jumping from a far distance and landing with a bang, then dealing with guards on the floor anyway. He decides to push through the only and the most annoying option he has left.

As soon as the opportunity presents itself, he shimmies up the mansion walls, silently praying that the thick ivy vines and trellises that he’s holding onto don't give into his weight. He's never been a fan of stealth missions or anything that required subtlety. Through the windows, he sees Sanji and the Celestial Dragon walking along a corridor and into a room. He follows, traversing through the climbing plants. He stops just under a balcony of the room where he assumed they had gone. He wraps his limbs around one of its support pillars and waits for any sign to see if he was right.

Sanji

Saint Charlos, my dear, I'll need a second to freshen up.

Saint Charlos

Of course! Don’t be long.

There was the sound of a click, presumably the door closing. Zoro jumps and grabs onto the platform above him. He carefully raises himself, enough to peek through the gaps of the balcony’s balustrades. He worriedly looks around when he realises that there’s no one in the open room, so pulls himself up further, shoving a foot between the railing.

Suddenly, a face pokes up in front of him.

Sanji

Hi~

Zoro’s hands slip. He tries to recover himself by flailing his arms around but to no avail. He falls backwards.

Zoro

ACK–!

Sanji snatches him by the collar of his open robe and pulls him back. Zoro takes the opportunity to grab onto the top railing and the blonde’s outstretched arm. He hooks his other foot between another set of balustrades, finally able to get some semblance of stability.

Sanji speaks in a whisper.

Sanji

My god, you are terrible at this. I could hear you shuffling around behind the walls. I had to compensate a lot for you, you know.

Zoro

What–?

Sanji covers his mouth with his other hand, practically slapping it. He tuts, shaking his head.

Sanji

Too loud. But…I can’t help but think how romantic this all is. It’s very sweet of you to put yourself in danger and come all this way, Zoro. You’re not worried about me, are you?

For some reason, the sound of his name coming from the blonde gives Zoro butterflies in his stomach. He blinks dumbly a couple of times, then slaps Sanji’s hand out of his mouth.

Zoro

Curls, we don't have time for this. We have to go now.

Sanji

What, why? I'm in the middle of a heist here. A heist! For money! We're pirates–we like money! Actually, you can clear our way out. At the eastern side there’s a hidden passage that they use as an escape route for emergencies. I've been told it's under a big willow tree. I want you to find it and make sure there are no guards on the way out in two hours.

Zoro

Two…? Fuck that. Let’s just–

Sanji

You can manage that, can’t you? You know which side is east, right? He won’t know what hit him until we’re way out of here. He’s far too rich to notice anything missing. I’ll have the money and some when I’m through, I promise.

Zoro

What? Is this really just about…? Curls, this isn't worth it. We can just stick to Traffy’s plan.

Sanji places a finger on Zoro’s lips then gives him a warm smile. The swordsman didn’t realise that the hand that gripped his collar is now splayed over his chest.

Sanji

Shh…too loud. And just…can you just give me a sec to take this in? Please?

Zoro furrows his brows in confusion and looks around, trying to make sense of what the blonde is talking about. Then it dawns on him.

It’s just like what he’d seen on the covers of those romantic books about forbidden love. It’s where the suitor breaks in just for a chance to see his beloved by the windowsill. He played the brave man standing outside on the balcony, trying to win his love’s affection, and Sanji is the girl in a fine dress that he’d been chasing. The cool wind blows calmly through them, giving Zoro the rare chance to see both of Sanji’s eyes up close, bright and blue, looking back at him longingly.

Sanji

Can I try something?

Sanji gently cups both sides of Zoro’s face in his hands then pulls him in, his lips just hovering over Zoro’s own. He pauses there, as if giving the swordsman a chance to back off.

Zoro’s head tells him that he should push him away. By all accounts, with everything that they’ve been through and everything that he’d seen him do, he should be repulsed by this.

But his heart screamed louder at that moment. He finds himself unable to move away. Instead, his open eyelid droops down.

Sanji moves in and places his lips lightly onto his. He parts himself away for a second to look Zoro in the eye, carefully assessing his reaction. When the swordsman tips forwards ever so slightly, he takes the hint. He angles his head and clashes their mouths together.

They start their exchange gently, taking in each other’s sensations. When Sanji teases a tongue between Zoro’s lips, it quickly becomes frantic and desperate. They deepen their kiss as their hands keenly seek and explore each other’s skins, sliding under fabrics of clothing and grasping whatever they can in an attempt to pull themselves closer together.

Finally, Sanji forces himself to pull away before it gets too messy, leaving a trail of spit stretching between their tongues. Zoro couldn’t help but follow the momentum as he craved for more. They both take a second to catch their breaths. The swordsman looks into the blonde’s eyes again, then down to his mouth, trying to process what just happened. The feeling of the softness of his lips and the taste of his tongue on his own linger still.

Zoro

That was…

Sanji smiles fondly and lets out a light-hearted chuckle. He wipes the stain of his lipstick off Zoro’s lips, leaning back slightly to admire the strong features of his face while cleaning any proof of his makeup.

Sanji

Zoro… I…

Zoro slides his hands from Sanji's forearms up to his shoulders, then wraps his hands gently around the back of his neck.

Zoro

Curls…don't kill him.

Sanji's smile fades quickly, then he looks at the swordsman in confusion. His expression turns sour.

Sanji

You're trying to protect them…?

Zoro

No! I–

Sanji pushes Zoro by the chest, jerking himself away, taking backward steps.

Zoro fumbles but manages to catch the top railing of the balcony just in time before he could lose his balance.

Zoro

It's not like that! Curls, I am here because I…. Look, if you kill him, they'll send every Admiral and Warlord to get you and I might not be able to protect you from them. They'll send Mihawk.

Sanji

You think I need your protection? You? The person who's been trying to kill me for–

Suddenly, blood bursts out of his nose, staining the front half of his dress.

Zoro

Woah–!

Sanji

–the fuck?!

Sanji cups his hands over his face and runs inside, looking around clumsily for any piece of cloth to stop the bleeding and to clean himself with. Finally he finds facial tissues stashed on a dresser at the far end of the room.

There was a knock on the door. Zoro was about to hurdle over the railing to help the blonde but quickly skirts the balustrade to hide behind the outer wall instead.

Saint Charlos

Everything okay, princess?

Sanji

Y–yes, dear! Don’t come in yet. I’ll be there soon!

The door bursts open regardless. Saint Charlos saunters in.

Saint Charlos

Are you alright? I thought I heard–why are you bleeding?

Sanji

Of course I am. I’m in the house of a mighty World Noble after all. One has to work up the bravery just to be by your side, Your Grace. Nervous jitters.

Saint Charlos

Ah, I see. There's no shame in admitting it. I am magnificent, especially compared to someone like you. Come on then, my slaves will clean you up.

The Celestial Dragon lays a hand on Sanji’s lower back, ushering him through the door where he came from.

Sanji steals a glance behind him, only to find that there’s no one in the room. He uses his haki but can't seem to sense anyone’s presence. He returns his gaze forwards, feeling torn about the whole ordeal.

—

Thick clouds darken the skies and the rain starts pouring heavily. From under the refuge of an especially large willow tree, Zoro looks up and adjusts his hood frustratingly, trying to keep himself dry. His leg twitches restlessly. He keeps thinking about his last interaction with the blonde and tries to make sense of his own actions. He should hate the guy, but he can no longer deny his attraction to him. When he blinks, he realises that he's running his fingers across his lips, unable to shake the lingering sensation of their shared contact. The worst part is, he didn’t hate anything about it at all, nor did he realise that he had any regrets. He grips onto Wado's handle to keep his hands occupied.

He looks down on the trapdoor located just under the tree trunk, silently praying that the tunnel through it is the correct one that Sanji had instructed him to find. He won't, of course, admit to the other man that he'd gone the complete opposite direction initially. Of course he didn't have much luck looking for any secret passages that way. He just kept wandering around until he found an easy pick royal guard to intimidate so he could show him the way and that's how he ended up here. He almost felt sorry for the poor fellow when he rendered him unconscious and dumped his body somewhere hard to find.

The swordsman quietly wonders to himself if the Sanji had anticipated this kerfuffle, and that's why he had given him two whole hours instead of a shorter duration.

He’s lost track of the exact time, but he’s certain that it’s coming close to the two hour mark that the blonde had set. From afar, Zoro tries to look through the mansion window to check on the grandfather clock he’d been watching, but the rain is so heavy now that it clouded his vision of the landscape, barely able to make the silhouette of the house from where he sat.

The swordsman concentrates on his observation haki, detecting five presences running towards him. He stands and draws two blades, ready to strike.

The group of people come to a halt as soon as they see Zoro up close. They gasp in fear and hold each other's hands. They all have tattered clothes and no shoes, and around their necks are fresh purple and yellow bruises. The swordsman recognises two of the men as the ones that carried the Celestial Dragon and Sanji all the way from Sabao Dome but it looks like they had lost their collars.

When he looks down, he sees a small figure trembling madly behind them. A child with an angry red mark on his chest, shaped like a dragon’s claw, exactly like the one on Sanji’s back. His tan skin isn't textured like normal human skin, but instead, has an iridescent shine to it. On the sides of his face where his ears should be are fins covering a set of gills.

Man 1

That scar and the hair…. It’s–it’s the Demon Warlord–Roronoa Zoro!

Woman 1

What…what do we do? I thought Your Highness said that this path is clear?

Woman 2

The Warlord must be working for the Celestial Dragons and has come to stop us!

The swordsman frowns at that statement. He wonders if he's done the right thing all these years, which is a question that's come up quite a lot since starting this mission to find Corazon.

Man 2

Please–please have mercy! Junior here has never seen light! Just let him go, and w–we’ll stay!

Man 1

No, we've seen what they all do to people like us. We're all dead anyway, but I'd rather die fighting! Son, make a run for it!

The man recklessly charges in with a makeshift shiv in his hand. He lunges at Zoro, who steps aside and trips him with the blunt side of one of his swords. The man falls on his face.

Merchild

Dad, no!!!

The merchild ducks between the other people’s legs and charges angrily. He uses his webbed fists to throw punches against Zoro’s stomach.

Merchild

You hurt him!!

Zoro stares at the small figure and senses that the others are shaking in fear, too frozen and afraid to move. He raises his swords–

The others cry out–

–and sheathes his blades back on his hips. He kneels down to catch the child’s fists with his hands and speaks calmly.

Zoro

Did the Pirate King free you?

The first man pushes himself up by the elbows on the ground and spits at him.

Man 1

Don’t hurt him!

Merchild

So what if he did?! He’s a kind man and you’re–you’re–

Zoro lets go of the merchild.

Zoro

Your punches are making my belly itchy, that’s all.

The merchild blinks at him, but stops his assault.

Zoro offers a hand to the man he’d tripped.

Zoro

If you’re looking for the way out, it’s just through that trapdoor behind me. We don’t have a lot of time so grab the torch I set up inside and run. Just be careful, I’m not quite certain what you’ll find on the other side of the tunnel.

There was a moment of silence. It takes a second for the group of people to fully realise that the feared Warlord is on their side. The man on the ground takes Zoro’s hand and the swordsman lifts him onto his feet.

Merchild

Dad!!!

The family reunites. They hug affectionately.

Woman 1

You’re…you’re helping us?

Man 2

We know what’s on the other side. I know where we can find a sloop to get out of this island.

Zoro

That’s not a bad idea. That way we can protect you outside too. Just make sure to stay low and quiet until we get back. Do you know where the Pirate King is now?

Woman 2

He said he’s off to the treasure room and then he’d meet us on the way out but…that was about half an hour ago. We thought he’d caught up to us by then so we just ran out ourselves as soon as we could use the rain for cover.

Zoro nods as thanks and proceeds to walk towards the mansion.

—

Not far from the house, a group of royal guards surround a hunched figure wrapped in a large curtain taken from one of the windows inside. The soldiers charge in one after another, relentlessly attacking with weapons on hand. The figure dodges left and right, occasionally taking swipes against them. The figure knocks back clusters of them each time, but in its weakened state, it’s not enough to take them out. They simply stand on their feet again and begin another round of assault.

A royal guard spears right through the figure from behind.

Sanji’s eyes jolt open, the pain that sears through his chest becomes unbearable when the guard twists the weapon while it's inside him then pulls it out forcefully. He screams, his voice breaking. While overwhelmed, he senses another guard somewhere on his left side swing his sword low, slicing the tendons on both his ankles, dropping him to his knees. He readies himself for another direct blow from a guard wielding a heavy mace right in front of him. Over the guard’s shoulder, he sees glints of three lines shine through the mist of the rain.

There was a heavy gush of wind and a flash of green. Sanji was in too much pain to fully understand what's going on but he could hear the clashing of blades and cries for help around him.

Zoro

Three Swords Style…Tatsu Maki!

A powerful whirlwind forms around the swordsman and Sanji, effectively blowing and damaging the royal guards in its wake. They fly up high in the air and fall roughly on the ground, knocking them out. The one who landed right in front of the blonde somehow stayed awake. The guard writhes and attempts to get up, but Sanji throws a heavy punch reinforced with armament haki across his head, cracking his skull. The blonde speaks in a difficult, huffed breath.

Sanji

I…had it all…under control…Shitty Mosshead.

He tips forwards.

Zoro runs, sheathing his swords and catches the blonde before he falls on the ground. When he angles him back, the curtain that wrapped around him slips off his body. The swordsman gapes in horror, shocked at the sight.

Sanji’s dress had been torn to shreds. He’s practically naked under the curtain cover. His heels are nowhere to be found, only having his bare feet to walk with. He has a deep puncture through his upper chest and a nasty cut across his ankles–both fresh and bleeding from the fight just now. The full lengths of his arms are reddened and scratched. One side of his body has a large purple bruise that spans from his ribs right through to his back. He also can’t help but notice evidence of trauma and a messy cluster of teeth marks along his inner thigh towards his groin. As horrendous as the sight of his wounds may be, the worst detail that the swordsman can see is the large metal clamp that hangs around Sanji’s neck. He recognises them as a slave’s chain.

Sanji

Take a picture. It’ll last longer.

Zoro

…Did he do this to you?

Sanji doesn't move or reply. His hair had become heavily damp in the rain, covering his face. When Zoro dips down slightly, he sees the blonde's lips trembling over gritted teeth. He can't tell if the stream running down his nose is from the rain or from his eyes.

Zoro

Did you kill him?

Slowly, Sanji shakes his head.

Zoro’s eye narrows. He feels his hands tighten their hold on Sanji. A pang of guilt washes over him, remembering their conversation earlier.

Sanji

But I made sure that he can't hurt anyone anymore.

Zoro's hands relax.

Zoro

…Good.

Surprised, Sanji lifts his head to look at the swordsman.

Sanji

Just…”good”? You're not going to ask me what I did?

Zoro

Knowing you, it's probably something unpleasant. I'd rather not know.

Zoro notices the curtains that the blonde had used for cover have fallen on the damp grass underneath him, completely soaked in the rain. He removes his own cloak and wraps the blonde in it, making sure that the hood covers his head before scooping him up into his arms.

—

With one of the men holding out a fiery torch, the liberated slaves lead on through the dark winding passageway while Zoro carefully carries Sanji in his arms behind them. He guesses that they’re inside one of the Sabaody Archipelago’s giant roots, hollowed out so that anyone walking through can potentially cross the entire length of the island without anyone knowing. He starts worrying where they may end up but he trusts the people guiding them, simply because there’s no other choice. They all want one thing–to get out of this place alive.

The swordsman is well aware of others’ subtle glances and pitiful looks at the Pirate King but he tries to ignore them to keep his senses focused on monitoring the blonde’s heart rate and breathing. Sanji’s been falling in and out of consciousness and it’s starting to worry him more each time. He wishes his reindeer friend is with them. He’d know what to do.

Zoro dares a peek at the collar around Sanji’s neck. He frowns at the sight then tears his gaze away.

Zoro

You don’t…happen to have a key for this, do you? Or know how to get it out another way?

Man 1

I’m so sorry… it was him who somehow got his hands on one to get us out but we don’t know what happened to it when we parted ways. The last time I saw him, he didn’t have anything around his neck.

Woman 1

It must have happened when he went to the treasure room. We don’t know how to take it off without the right key. We would have already tried to escape if–

Den-den Mushi

Purupurupurupuru

Everyone jumps at the sound, clearly on edge from the potential dangers that could come their way at any second. They all turn to Zoro who fumbles around, trying to answer the transponder snail while carrying the blonde.

Sanji had woken up from the sound and feebly reached inside Zoro’s open robe. He pulls out the den-den mushi from his breast pocket and holds it out for him in his hand, pressing the button on its shell to answer the call.

Zoro

Hello?

Law

Zoro-ya, it's been…

…where are…y…

…did you get…

…there’s news about…

Sanji looks up to the ceiling then around them. He speaks in a weak voice.

Sanji

We’re probably in the dense area of the root system. It’s interfering with the signal.

Zoro

Traffy, you’re breaking up. Can you hear us?

Law

…they know you’re…

…Pacifistas heading your way…

…need to…

…before Admiral…

Zoro

Tra-guy, we have a friend on Grove 44. Duval of the Flying Fish Riders. I want you to meet us at their base if you can.

Law, if you can hear me, go to–

Den-Den Mushi

Click

Zoro tuts disappointingly at the lost signal.

Woman 2

Pa–Pacifistas?!

Woman 1

Wait–a Marine Admiral is coming too?! To get us?!?

The people around them start shaking uncontrollably in panic. The merchild holds onto his dad’s leg desperately.

Zoro sighs but gestures for them to keep moving forward.

Zoro

Let’s pick up the pace. It’s only a matter of time before someone finds us and I'd rather not get caught up in here. We’d get trapped and surrounded pretty easily.

Sanji returns the snail inside Zoro’s inner breast pocket then gives the others a small smile in an attempt to ease their minds.

Sanji

Don’t worry about the Pacifistas for now. We’re not in any danger until they see us. They’re too reliant on their visuals. As for the Admirals…lazy bunch, all of them. Too slow to act. Besides, my friend here will protect us from harm I’m sure. You said you know where we can find a sloop?

Man 2

Y–yes!

The word “friend” echoes in Zoro’s head.

—

They continue their walk in silence, at an increased pace this time. Zoro didn't want to have them running at full speed in fear that it would open up Sanji’s wounds further. Instead, they had to take longer rushed strides.

In one of the brief moments when the blonde is conscious, he breaks the silence by starting a light-hearted conversation, brightening the troubled mood of the crowd.

Sanji

I got loot like I promised. It’s not exactly money but we can sell it for a lot. The surgeon’s going to freak.

Zoro's serious and tense expression softens. He holds the blonde closer, tucking Sanji’s head between the nook of his neck and shoulder after he notices that his body is cold and shivering.

Zoro

I never doubted you for a second. What did you get?

Sanji pulls a small pouch that he'd secured around his wrist by its loops. The swordsman didn’t even notice that he had it on him, too distracted at the sight of his mangled body earlier. The blonde opens the bag with one hand and pulls out a small dark pebble between his fingers with the other, raising it as high as he could muster in front of Zoro’s face.

Sanji

Pure, unadulterated condensed Seastones, baby.

Zoro's eye widens. Then he grins, genuinely impressed at the man.

Zoro

Wh–what? I've never even seen them in that form before.

Sanji grins a toothy smile up to him. Zoro's heart pounds at the sight.

Man 2

Those things?! They’re Devil Fruit user killers–they're worth almost a million Beri each!

Sanji

I know right! Want one? When we get out of here, you can buy your way anywhere in the world and start a new life.

Woman 1

Your Highness, you can't possibly–

Sanji

Catch!

Sanji flicks a pebble up in the air to the woman who scrambles to catch it in surprise. He does the same to the others. Finally, he gently holds one out to the merchild walking alongside them.

Sanji

Grow up big and strong for me, okay?

The merchild looks at his father, who nods, then takes the pebble from Sanji.

There's a moment of silence, then Zoro hears sniffles coming from one of the women, then the other, then followed by the two men and the merchild that they had freed. They cry their eyes out, thanking the Pirate King and the Warlord as they reach the end of the tunnel.

—

Sanji is unclear what exactly happens next. He knows that he’s been drifting in and out of sleep, blaming his body’s fatigued condition and whatever serum that the Celestial Dragon had injected him with to nullify his strength earlier.

He feels the harsh wind and rain on his face. It looks like the weather has turned for the worst. He hears high pitch sounds of whirring, as if machines are charging up. Then he hears a child scream. Forcing his eyes open, he sees blindingly bright long beams head directly towards them. He wonders if this is his chance to see his mother again.

The swordsman above him quickly takes a step forward, adjusting his hold of him, then swings a sword in three wide movements, redirecting all the beams back to its source. One hits a Pacifista straight onto its face, causing it to explode and knock back the two next to it. Sanji can’t help but smile.

Sanji

Nice… shot….

Zoro

Curls–?! You’re awake! Do you think you can…

Sanji’s vision and hearing gets all fuzzy again, unable to hear the rest of Zoro’s question. His eyes droop weakly, limbs dropping.

Woman 1

…There’s no…

…he’s lost too much blood!

Man 2

…This way, hurry!!!

Zoro

Hold on! Give me…

…anything, just quickly!

Sanji feels a painful pressure against the hole in his chest as the swordsman pushes down a crumpled cloth over it. He thinks that it would be a shame to die now. He doesn’t want to face his mother until he fulfils his promise to help his sister and brothers first. He silently asks her forgiveness for not visiting enough. His world darkens as reality fades once more.

When his eyes open, they’re in the sloop that one of the men had promised. It rocked madly from the torrential weather in the open seas. One of the women and the merchild held him securely in their arms while keeping pressure over his bleeding chest. They’re trying to keep him as stable as possible in the undercover area of the boat.

Outside, he sees the rest of their group all work together to pull a rope on one end of the ship while Zoro pulls a separate one all by himself on the other side. They look like they’re trying to secure the sails above them while dealing with the severe storm.

Sanji

What a nice… family….

Merchild

Hey, uncle! Stay with us, okay?! We’re…

…it’s going to be…

Woman 2

…just about…

…very soon, I promise!

…just hang on!

Man 2

Warlord Zoro! We’re being followed!!

Sanji’s eyes close again. He ponders if the Seastones of the quality he got would help Germa finalise their research. Then he starts wondering if there's a chance that his siblings would enjoy a day out sailing when they finally get emotions of their own without having to rely on those ugly modified helmets. He silently asks them to hang in there.

Sanji

I'm so, so sorry….

When he comes to again, he sees Zoro by himself in the thick of the rain, panting madly. He looks extremely worn and tired.

Bright lights shine from a distance and a continuous barrage of beams break through the fog, directly heading their way. Most hit the water next to them, causing the small boat to rock sideways, almost tipping over the boat at one point. He hears Zoro yell out one of his one-sword style moves as he deflects the beams in one long swipe, sending them off in different directions. He could hear his exhaustion behind his voice.

Man 1

Warlord Zoro! Another rogue wave up ahead!

Zoro

Shit!

Sanji feels the boat shift upwards at a steep angle. He thinks about how much work the swordsman is putting on right now, dealing with Pacifistas, protecting them, and trying to keep their small boat afloat in the storm all at the same time.

Zoro lowers down almost to a kneeling position and takes out a second sword. He swings his blades synchronously in a circle, creating a massive force of vortex that breaks through the rogue wave in front of them. It corrects the angle of the boat, saving them from capsizing.

Sanji

What a… great swordsman…

His words catch Zoro’s attention.

Suddenly there was a nagging sensation from the right. Another beam is heading their way. Sanji predicts that the distracted swordsman can redirect this attack but the aftershock of the impact would heavily damage the roof of the undercover area and the sloop’s already stressed mast.

Sanji reaches out and uses his last remaining strength to pull the nearby woman and merchild down to the floor with him.

His prediction is correct, and the events unfold exactly as he saw it through his haki, saving the woman and merchild from getting caught up in the blast.

Sanji worries about the other members of their family. He’s too weak to think about too many people at once.

Zoro rises from under the debris in front of them. Sure enough, he had used his body to protect the others from the blast by pinning them low to the floor. Relief washes over the blonde.

He sees a series of lightning strikes reign down from the sky that makes his hair stand on end, followed by powerful sounds of thunder and huge explosions from afar.

The blinding light of the sun suddenly emerges above them. Sanji welcomes the warm sensation on his skin. The thick grey clouds part, as if being commanded to. The whirring machine noises from the distant seems to have quieted down.

Zoro groans in exhaustion. He looks around and huffs. When he gazes upwards, a large smile forms across his face.

A heavenly being descends from above, waving a long metallic staff in circles. As it does, the clouds part further, creating an area of calm waters in their immediate vicinity. As the creature of light gets closer, Sanji notices long orange hair flowing beautifully in the wind. He catches sight of an impressive tattoo on its arm. When his vision clears a bit more, he finally sees that their saviour is in the shape of a voluptuous woman riding a small bubble ship floating down to their damaged sloop. She waves at them over the side with a bright smile on her face.

Sanji

An angel… from heaven…?

Zoro

NAMI!!!

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I like to think that in every universe, Sanji worships Nami in different ways.

I initially really wanted to draw the balcony scene as an opening to this chapter. The whole kiss kiss smooch shebang. But as I was doing it, I noticed some inconsistencies with Sanji's design. I figured I'd do a character sheet for reference to hone down on it first before I flesh things out too detailed.

Zoro's character design definitely needs some love though. Maybe I'll do his next.

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yourplayersaidwhat · 9 months ago

Text

Going through inventory druing downtime

Druid: I have a bag of drugs.

DM: No you don't, I haven't given you one of those yet.

Druid: Well, that's what I wrote down...

DM (going through their notes): Do you mean the pouch of herbs and mushroom for cooking? That you looted from that lizardfolk forager?

Druid: Oh, that's what it was!

---

(Same session, later)

Druid: So, I have five balls in my inventory. From when we fought the chimeras.

Druid: Wait, how many balls does a chimera even have?

DM: They're flails... From the snails...

#shit my players say #rpg #submission #shareable #dnd

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conchcronch · 3 months ago

Text

Kinktober 2024: Day 3

WC: 2296

Summary: It's been so long since you've seen Law and you're struggling. So you give him a call hoping he can give you some much needed relief.

A/N: This is the first time I've ever written Law so I hope it's not too out of character.

You groaned as your head hit the pillow, your hair was a mess, the blankets tangled around your legs trapping you as you flailed in an attempt to free yourself. You had been at this for what felt like hours. Trying every position you could think of, moving to different places in the room, but no matter how close you got you couldn’t get there. Your hand was beginning the cramp, the pads of your fingers showing the very early signs of being pruny from your slick.

You had no idea what it was that you weren’t doing, he could get you to cum in a matter of minutes, yet here you were completely unable to get yourself there. You looked over at the clock on the bedside table, 3:34am. You rolled over, pressing your face into his sweater that you had stolen last time you had seen him, as you groped around in your bedside drawer blindly until you felt the small transponder snail you kept there. Quickly dialing him, you waited in anticipation, knowing he would still be awake but hoping he would pick up.

“It’s late.” His voice was low, gravelly. The same voice he uses to whisper in your ear as he fucks into you, holding you tightly against you.

“Not like you’re sleeping.” You rolled onto your side so your voice wasn’t muffled as your hand slipped down between his legs, your eyes fluttering closed so you could focus on his voice.

”But why aren’t you?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” There is a slight whine in your voice as you tease your clit, rubbing your index and middle finger along either side of it. “When will I get to see you?” You heard him sigh.

“Hopefully soon.”

“But when”

“Did you really call me this late just to ask that?”

“Partially.” You heard him huff a breath through his nose, knowing there was a smirk across his lips.

“Oh yeah, then what else did you need?” Even though you hadn’t been together for very long, he could read you like a book, even if he couldn’t see you.

“I miss you.”

“Is that right?” You nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see you.

“I miss you so much.”

“So much you’re called at 3 in the morning just to tell me.” You heard the quiet sound of a book closing, smiling when you realized you had his full attention.

“Uh huh” Slowly you stimulated your clit, rubbing the pads of your middle finger around in such a way that it was hard to stop your hips from bucking. You couldn’t stifle the breathy moan that slipped out when you applied just a bit more pressure.

“Sounds like you called for another reason.”

“Mmhm”

“Why didn’t you just say that from the start?” If you listened closely, you would have heard the faintest sound of his belt being undone as he leaned his head against the back of his chair.

“I’ve been trying all night, b-but I just can’t do it.” Your voice was breathy, and as you ran your free hand over your face to push your bangs out of your eyes you felt a light sheen of sweat beginning to form.

“All night, huh? Why didn’t you call sooner?”

“It’s embarrassing.” You whined, forcing yourself to swallow a moan that was threatening to slip out.

“Arousal is completely natural, nothing to be embarrassed about.” His hand wrapped around his half hard cock, stroking slowly as he listened to all the little sounds you would make whenever you weren’t speaking. “What were you doing?”

“I-I’ve been fingering myself for hours.” He let out a heavy breath through his nose, the thought of you laying in bed desperate for him was enough to get his cock fully hard at the mere mention.

“Mhm” He encouraged you to continue.

“I just can’t get there.” You slipped you fingers down from you clit, gathering your slick before pushing your middle finger inside yourself.

“What are you doing right now?”

“I ah I have a finger inside b-but it doesn’t feel as good as yours.” In any other situation, you would rather eat Law’s hat than say any of this out loud, but you had grown so desperate that any part of you that was shy had been silenced.

“Take it out.” You did as he instructed, wiping it on your sheets before waiting for his next instruction. “What are you wearing?”

“J-just a shirt and underwear.”

“Which shirt?” As he closed his eyes he wanted to be able to picture you exactly how you were so he could imagine how you would look under him, begging for his fingers.

“Y-your yellow button up.”

“What?”

“I took it.”

“I should have figured you had it.” He tried to keep his voice even, but truthfully the thought of you in his shirt was enough to force him to grip the base of his cock enough to hurt. “Take off your panties, unbutton the shirt, but leave it on.”

You didn’t respond, immediately pushing the cotton panties off your hips and down your legs before working to unbutton his shirt. “Done.”

“Good. Now, what have you tried?”

“Everything.” You all but whined.

“I highly doubt that.”

“I just can’t reach that spot inside, feels like my fingers aren’t long enough.”

“We’re going to ignore that spot, okay?”

“But it feels so good when you rub against it.”

“I know it does, but there’s better ways for you to get yourself there without me.” You wanted to argue it, but you knew he knew your body better than you did sometimes. “There’s no point in you wasting your entire night trying to get yourself off ineffectively.” God you loved it when he would slip into his more analytical self. “Put two fingers in your mouth.” He said this the same way he would tell someone a diagnosis that had you clenching your thighs together.

You did exactly what you were told, tasting your own arousal on your fingers as you rubbing your thighs together, moaning slightly around your fingers as you swirl your tongue around the digits like you would his cock. “Take them out and play with your nipple for me.” The line of saliva connecting your fingers to your lip broke as you ran your wet fingers around your nipple. “Do it the same way I do it, take your time, there’s no rush.”

“I miss your hands.”

“I know you do, but you have to work with what you have.” His cock was so hard it hurt, the grip he still had around the base finally released as he ran his thumb over the bead of pre cum that had gathered at the tip, smearing it over his head. “How’s it feel?”

“G-good.”

“Now, with your other hand, slowly run it down your body. Take your time.” You couldn’t hold back to moan when you finally felt the tip of your finger make contact with your clit. Law was always very quiet when you had sex, the most you ever got out of him was a the occasional grunt when he was getting close, or a quiet fuck when you had his cock in your mouth, so when you heard a heavy sigh you felt yourself get even more wet, if that was even possible.

“L-Law are you-” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, hoping he would be able to answer your unfinished question.

“Y-yeah.” A quiet curse left your lips as you picture him, leaning back in his desk chair, fisting his cock as he told you how to touch yourself. “Put your clit between your index and middle finger.” You did as you were told, starting to move them back and forth before he could tell you to. “Don’t go too fast, take your time.” You couldn’t stop the moans from falling from your lips as you slowly sped up, your hips canting forward. “You’re going to wake your whole ship.” he said, laughing slightly to cover the moan that came from the very back of his throat. “Are you ready for more?” He finally asked, having to completely take his hand off his cock as he felt the knot in his stomach begin to fray but not wanting himself to finish before you.

“Yes” you breathed, taking your fingers away from your clit and running them down along your folds.

“Are you wet enough?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more wet in my life.” The sentence made your stomach flutter, admitting something so obscene to him felt wrong but at this point you didn’t care.

“I wish I could feel it.” He couldn’t stop himself from imagining how well your cunt would take his fingers, watching them become covered in your slick as he pushed them fully inside of you, his tattoos completely engulfed. “Move the transponder closer, I want to hear it.” The hand that had be roughly holding your breast moved to grab the snail that had been sitting on your nightstand, placing it on the bed next to you, low enough that he would be able to hear the sound of your fingers pumping inside of you. “Now, push your middle finger inside.” You did as you were told, immediately curling it upwards as you did so.

“I can do another.”

“Then do it.” You pushed your ring finger in next, digging the heel of your palm against your clit as you did so. You bent your knees, bringing your feet up towards your body so you could rut against your hand.

The sound of your fingers smacking against your wet folds was like music to Law’s ears. His cock was aching, pre cum straining his white shirt where it laid neglected for so long. But he knew the moment he wrapped his hand around himself, his orgasm would crash into him. “F-fuck Law” you called to him, reaching over to grab his sweater that had been laying besides you, bringing the fabric to your face to both cover you in his scent and in an attempt to muffle your needy cries.

“Are you close?” He thumbed his messy head, bringing the pre cum down his shaft but refusing to stroke himself until he knew you were almost there.

“Y-yeah finally-y” your words sounded broken and they made his cock throb, his balls feeling heavy enough that part of him thought he might cum untouched. And while the curious part of him was interested to find out if he actually would, the rest of him was begging for his hand. When he wrapped his fist around his cock he couldn’t stop the grunt that slipped from between his clenched teeth. The slapping of your cunt was loud enough he was almost concerned someone on the submarine might here, but he knew he was the only one up at this hour. “Can you t-talk to me, please?” The need in your voice spurred him on, his hand moving quicker as he leaned forward, curving over himself.

“Are you gonna’ cum, babe?” He rarely ever used pet names, often preferring how your name feels in his mouth over any other name. But he remembered how much you liked being called ‘baby’, knowing it always evoked a long moan from you.

“Y-yeah p-please I need to cum.”

“Use your other h-hand to circle your needy little clit.” Despite your arousal-drink brain you were able to just barely follow his instructions. “That’s a good girl.” The sound of your fingers and your moans filled his office as though you were there. His hand was moving at a desperate pace, using his own precum as lube was not the best idea but he was too far gone to change.

“Do it.” Was all he could get out from between his clenched teeth. The sound of your orgasm throwing him over the edge and into his own crashing climax.

You knew you likely woke someone up with the volume of your moan. Each moan getting softer as your orgasm tapered off, your fingers slowing as they fucked you through your climax. Your breath was coming in short bursts, your hips lowering and your thighs shaking slightly. “Did you cum?” Your voice was rough, and a small whine left your raw throat as you finally pulled your fingers from your cunt.

“Yeah, fuck.” You couldn’t help the small laugh at the sound of his gruff voice as he tried to catch his breath. “Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, I think I can finally fall asleep.” Sleep was beginning to pull at your eyelids, having been evading you for hours.

“Good, get some rest.”

“Will you?” You pulled the blanket that had been pushed down to the bottom of your bed over you, rolling onto your side and holding his sweater against you as a makeshift pillow.

“I think so.” His voice was heavy with sleep.

“I’ll get to see you soon, right?”

“We’re probably a few hundred knots behind you, Strawhat-ya asked us to meet you at the next port to discuss our next move.”

“And when were you planning on telling me this?” You could hear the smirk on his face.

“Figured you knew.”

“What part of this entire transponder call made it seem like I knew that, Law?” You tried your best to sound irritated but you knew it was clear you weren’t.

“Get some sleep, cuz’ when we get to port you won’t be getting any.”

“I’ll see you soon then.”

“Goodnight.” You pressed your face into his hoodie as you drifted off to sleep, trying to think of all the ways you would get him back for not sharing such pertinent information with you.

#one piece smut #ao3 author #one piece #ao3 #trafalgar d law x reader #law smut #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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darlingsblackbook · 3 months ago

Text

Weight of Expectations - 1

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary : You try and try your best, still it's not good enough for your liutenant. What happens when he pushes you too far?

Warnings : ANGST, simon being mean, bullying, yelling, feelings of lonliness, sad y/n.

AN : I was half asleep and dreaming while writing this, I was adding tags with my eyes closed, because wth are these tags, ghost car? Simon rileyn? 😭

The training grounds were a stark landscape of mud and sweat, a battleground that I had only just begun to navigate. The air was thick with tension, filled with the sounds of grunts, shouts, and the rhythmic thuds of feet pounding against the ground

Each day felt like a test, a relentless march toward proving their worth. I wanted this—wanted to be part of something bigger, to prove I had what it took. But every day felt like a war against Ghost.

“Push harder!” Simon’s voice cut through the air like a whip crack, sending a jolt of anxiety through me. The Ghost stood with arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my heart race. “You call that running? I’ve seen snails with more ambition!”

With every training session, it became painfully clear that Simon’s expectations were sky-high. He was relentless, punishing mistakes with unforgiving criticisms that left no room for error. His gaze, cold and piercing, seemed to search for weaknesses, and I felt myself being scrutinized under his harsh glare. The others seemed to flow around him, taking his orders without hesitation, while I couldn't help but feel like I was constantly struggling to keep up, drowning under the pressure.

“Y/N, stop daydreaming and move!” Simon barked, his tone sharp enough to cut through the humidity of the summer air. I flinched at the command, the sting of embarrassment burning deep as I forced my legs to work faster. The rest of the recruits moved like well-oiled machines, their movements synchronized, while I just felt like an outsider in my own skin, flailing and failing.

“Not good enough!” Simon snapped, stepping closer, his voice low and icy. “You think this is a game? If you can’t handle this, you don’t belong here.” His words hung heavy in the air, making me feel small and insignificant.

My heart sank. I looked around at the other recruits, hoping for a glimmer of support, but instead only found pity and judgment in their eyes. Whispers floated through the group as they watched Ghost tear me down, their words sharp as knives.

“How does Y/N expect to survive out there?” one recruit muttered. “If she can’t even handle a few laps, she's dead weight.”

The laughter that followed felt like a physical blow, and I fought against the tide of humiliation that threatened to pull me under. Every taunt cut deeper than Simon’s criticisms, reinforcing the idea that I were a burden, that my presence was not wanted. My frustration boiled over, and it was in these moments that I began to question my worth.

“Y/N, focus!” Simon shouted, his voice rising with irritation. “You think this is a time to be weak?” The anger in his tone sent a chill through me, and I felt my resolve waver. “If you can’t push through this, you’re never going to make it.”

“I’m trying,” I replied, my voice trembling as I wiped sweat from my brow. “I’m really trying.” But the words felt empty, echoing against the wall of Simon’s expectations.

“Trying isn’t enough. You either do or you don’t,” he shot back, his gaze unwavering, as if he was looking right through me. “Get back to it!” I swallowed hard, pushing through the pain, but it felt like running a race against the wind—every effort met with an unseen force pushing back.

With each failure, I felt a part of myself eroding under the weight of Simon’s criticism. It was exhausting to try and prove myself, especially when every moment seemed to invite more ridicule. The other recruits began to treat me with disdain, echoing Simon’s harsh sentiments.

During breaks, they would huddle together, sharing laughter and camaraderie, while I sat apart, feeling the sting of my isolation. Whispers and sideways glances followed me like shadows, a constant reminder of my perceived inadequacies.

“I heard she couldn’t even keep up with the warm-ups,” one recruit scoffed, and the others chuckled in agreement. The laughter rang in my ears like a cruel melody.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the training ground, with it came a sense of longing—a desire to be seen, to be validated. I wanted Simon to acknowledge my efforts, to see past the mistakes and recognize my potential.

But every time I looked at Simon for support, I was met with indifference. In those moments, I craved even a hint of recognition, a word of encouragement that might lift the veil of despair shrouding my spirit. Instead, he remained aloof, his focus always on the next exercise, the next task. I felt invisible, an afterthought in a world that seemed to favor the strong and confident.

The cycle of training continued, each session more grueling than the last. As Simon’s criticisms rained down, I could feel my spirit begin to fracture. I pushed through the pain, forcing my body to move even when every muscle screamed for relief. The fear of failure loomed large in my mind, overshadowing any glimmer of hope.

One afternoon, during an especially intense session, I found myself in a state of sheer exhaustion. The sweat was dripping from my brow, mingling with the dirt caked on my skin. I had just finished a series of demanding drills, and my legs felt like lead. Simon stood before me, arms crossed, his expression a mask of disapproval.

“Y/N, what was that?” he demanded, his voice a low growl. “You call that effort? You’re wasting my time!”

The humiliation washed over me like a tidal wave. “I—I’m trying!” I protested, my voice barely above a whisper. But the words felt feeble, lost against the weight of Simon’s disappointment.

“Trying isn’t enough!” he barked. “You think this is a game? You’re here to learn, to become a soldier. If you can’t handle a little discomfort, maybe you don’t belong here.”

The words struck me like a physical blow, reverberating through my chest. I struggled to hold back tears, the pain of inadequacy consuming me. “I’m not weak,” I said, but even to my own ears, the declaration sounded hollow.

Simon stepped closer, invading my personal space, and I felt the urge to shrink back. “Weakness isn’t tolerated here. You either toughen up, or you’re out. Simple as that.”

His words were harsh, but it was the indifference that cut the deepest. It was clear to me that Simon wouldn’t bend, wouldn’t show a shred of compassion. The weight of his expectations hung heavy, a noose tightening around my neck. As I looked into Simon’s eyes, searching for any hint of understanding, I found only a cold resolve. In that moment, I realized I was fighting not only against Simon’s expectations but also against a growing sense of hopelessness that threatened to consume me.

The sessions dragged on, and each day felt like an uphill battle. I was trapped in a cycle of despair and determination, fighting against the tide of my own limitations while yearning for a glimmer of hope. I could feel the eyes of the other recruits on me, judging and laughing as Simon’s harsh words echoed in my mind. “You’re not good enough.”

As the days turned into weeks, the atmosphere among the recruits shifted. My struggles became the source of gossip, the training ground's unofficial entertainment. Whispers followed me like shadows, a constant reminder of my failures. “Did you see Y/N today?” one recruit would say, and the laughter that followed was sharp and cutting. I felt the weight of their gaze, the disdain that seemed to pour from them, and it was suffocating.

The laughter was infectious, and soon it spread like wildfire, fueled by Simon’s unwavering stance against me. The others began to mirror his sentiments, adopting his sharp tone and biting remarks. “You’re slowing us down, Y/N!” one would shout, echoing Simon’s criticisms, and I could feel the sting of betrayal in those words. What had once felt like camaraderie had twisted into cruelty, and I felt my heart sink further.

In those dark moments, I sought solace in the only thing I could control: my training. I pushed myself harder, hoping that if I worked enough, Ghost would finally notice my efforts. If I bled, if I hurt, if I endured—perhaps he would see me for who I am, not just a disappointment. But every time I thought I was making any progress Ghost's criticism would bring me crashing back down.

“More effort, Y/N! You’re not even trying!” he would shout, the disdain in his voice as sharp as the crack of a whip. Each time, it felt like a dagger to my heart, leaving a deep wound that never seemed to heal. I gritted my teeth and pushed through, running lap after lap, each footfall resonating with my determination. But as the days dragged on, the thrill of ambition began to fade, replaced by a gnawing sense of despair.

Despite my efforts, the other recruits continued to treat me with a mix of scorn and derision. They would mutter comments when I struggled during drills, their laughter ringing hollow. “Maybe Y/N should just give up,” one would quip, and the others would snicker in agreement. It became a routine, a cruel game that I found myself trapped in, and with each passing day, my confidence eroded further.

One afternoon, during a particularly grueling training session, I felt the familiar tightening in my chest, a prelude to the storm of emotions that always threatened to drown me. I braced myself for the inevitable onslaught.

“Y/N! You’re not even close to meeting the standard! I could throw a rock and it would outperform you!” His words were met with a chorus of laughter from the other recruits, and my face flushed with humiliation. The heat of my embarrassment was nearly unbearable, and for a moment, I felt completely exposed, as if the entire world was watching me fail.

“I’m trying!” I, for once, shouted back. The words bursting forth in a moment of desperation. “I’m doing my best!”

“Your best isn’t good enough! It’s time to toughen up!” Simon shot back, his gaze unyielding. “This isn’t a charity; this is a military training ground. If you can’t handle the pressure, you should be looking for a way out.”

The laughter that followed felt like salt in an open wound, and again my heart sank further. I turned away, fighting back tears of frustration. Every word Simon spoke echoed in my mind, reinforcing the idea that I was a failure, a disappointment. The cruel laughter of my fellow recruits followed me like a shadow, a constant reminder that I was alone in a sea of expectation.

After the session ended, I lingered behind, desperate to escape the judgmental stares and the mocking whispers that clung to me. I longed for validation, for a moment of recognition from Ghost—anything that might help me feel like I belonged.

But instead of finding solace, I found only silence. Simon brushed past me, his attention already shifting to the next task. The lack of acknowledgment felt like a dagger, and I fought against the tears that threatened to spill over. The loneliness was crushing, and with every passing day, I felt myself slipping further away from the person I had hoped to become.

Weeks turned into months, my spirit grew more fragile, battered by the weight of Simon’s expectations and the harsh judgments of the other recruits. I began to wonder if I was truly cut out for this life, questioning my ambition and my resolve. Simon’s relentless push only deepened my doubts, and the idea of being a soldier began to feel like a distant dream, one that was slipping further from my grasp.

In a moment of quiet desperation, I decided to confront Simon after a training session. I needed to hear his thoughts, to understand if there was any hope of redemption. As the other recruits began to disperse, I took a deep breath and approached him, my heart pounding in my chest.

“luitenant,” I began, my voice shaking slightly. “Can we talk?”

He turned to face them, his expression unreadable. “Make it quick, Y/N. I don’t have all day.”

I swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “I know I’ve been struggling, and I’m trying my best to improve. But it feels like nothing I do is ever good enough for you. I just want to know if you think I can make it through this.”

Ghost's gaze hardened, and for a moment, I feared I had made a mistake. But instead of dismissing me outright, he seemed to actually consider my words. “You want to know if you can make it? The only person who can answer that is you. If you think you can, then you have to prove it. No one’s going to hand you anything in this life, especially not here.”

I felt a flicker of hope but quickly realized it was overshadowed by the reality of his words. I had grown accustomed to his harsh criticisms, but this felt like a challenge, an opportunity to reclaim my dignity. “I will prove it,” I replied, determination igniting within me. “I will show you that I can be strong.”

Simon nodded, a flicker of something—perhaps respect—crossing his face. “Then do it. Stop waiting for validation. Get out there and earn it.” With that, he turned away, leaving me standing there, feeling a strange mix of inspiration and despair.

As the days continued to unfold, I poured every ounce of energy into my training. I pushed myself to the brink, ignoring the pain that flared in my muscles. Each drill became a battle, and I fought with a ferocity I hadn’t known I possessed. Yet despite my efforts, the whispers and laughter of the other recruits echoed in my mind.

Even as I fought to prove myself, the negativity of my peers remained a heavy weight on my shoulders. Simon’s expectations loomed large, but it was the biting words of my fellow recruits that cut the deepest. Their taunts became a toxic backdrop to each training session.

“Why are you even trying, Y/N? You’ll never make it,” one would say, followed by a chorus of laughter that felt like daggers in my heart. Each jeer was a reminder of my isolation, a cruel reminder that I was fighting not only against Simon’s expectations but also against a tide of scorn that threatened to drown me.

I pressed on, fueled by a mixture of determination and desperation. I would not let the words of others define me, nor would I allow Simon’s disapproval to break my spirit. But the road ahead felt endless, littered with obstacles that seemed insurmountable.

In the depths of my struggles, I clung to the idea that perseverance would eventually yield results. If I could just push through the pain, the humiliation, the exhaustion—perhaps one day, I would emerge stronger. Perhaps one day, Simon would see me for who I truly am.

And so, I ran. I ran through the tears, through the laughter, through the doubts. Every step was a silent promise to myself—to rise above the negativity and become the soldier I had always dreamed of being.

As I pushed through the obstacles, I felt a flicker of determination ignite within me. I would not give up. Not now, not ever..

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost angst #ghost fluff #ghost car #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon rileyn

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daniiiboo · 23 days ago

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day 7 - falling for you - cb98

summary - You and Connor go ice skating, little does he know, you are a bad skater.

trigger warnings - talks of blades and reader sucking

dani's thoughts - OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS PROMPT SO MUCH IM SO- AHHH

word count - 498

find the rest of my 12 days of chrismas here !

The air was sharp with winter’s chill, but the festive atmosphere at the outdoor rink made it impossible to feel cold. Twinkling lights wrapped around nearby trees, soft music played through speakers, and the sound of skates on ice filled the night.

Connor was practically glowing with excitement as he laced up his skates, the grin on his face wide enough to make your heart flutter.

“This is going to be fun,” he said, tightening the last lace and glancing up at you. “It’s been way too long since I’ve done this outside.”

You smiled back, but your hands fumbled nervously with your skates. What Connor didn’t know, what you had carefully avoided telling him, was that you weren’t exactly a skating pro. In fact, the last time you had been on ice, you’d spent more time on your backside than on your feet.

“You okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Yeah, totally,” you said quickly, waving him off. “Let’s do this!”

Connor gave you a hand to help you up, and the moment your skates hit the ice, you wobbled. He caught you immediately, his hands firm but gentle on your arms.

“Whoa,” he said, laughing as he steadied you. “You good?”

“Yup,” you said, your voice higher than usual. “Just... getting used to it again.”

Connor raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he skated backward a few feet, his movements smooth and effortless.

“Come on,” he said, holding out a hand. “I’ll go slow.”

You took a deep breath, placed your trembling hand in his, and shuffled forward. Connor moved at a snail’s pace, his grin growing as he watched you concentrate on not falling.

“You’re doing great,” he encouraged, his tone soft but teasing.

“Stop lying to me,” you muttered, your other arm flailing slightly for balance.

Connor’s laugh echoed across the rink, and for a moment, you couldn’t even be embarrassed, it was impossible to be anything but charmed by him.

It wasn’t long before disaster struck. As you tried to pick up the pace, your skate caught on a rough patch of ice, and you yelped as your feet flew out from under you.

“Whoa!” Connor lunged forward, catching you around the waist just before you hit the ice. You clung to him, your cheeks burning as you buried your face in his chest.

“Okay,” he said, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter, “I have to ask. How bad are you at skating?”

“On a scale of one to ten?” you mumbled. “Probably a negative three.”

Connor laughed, his hands still firmly on your waist. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because you were so excited, and I didn’t want to ruin it!”

He softened at that, his grin turning into something gentler. “You’re not ruining anything,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “This is fun. Besides…” He smirked. “I kind of like being the one to catch you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in his gaze made your heart flutter.

“Okay,” he said, still holding onto you, “how about I teach you?”

“Deal,” you replied, unable to hide your smile.

And as the two of you slowly glided across the rink—Connor’s hands steadying you every step of the way—you couldn’t help but feel that maybe falling wasn’t so bad after all.

#dani writes ᡣ𐭩 #dani's 12 days of christmas !#connor bedard x reader #connor bedard x you #Chicago Blackhawks x reader

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bitterkarella · 4 months ago

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Midnight Pals: 3 Men and a Dog

David Fincher: hi i'm david fincher Fincher: i used to be big in hollywood until the curious case of benjamin button Fincher: now i have to share an apartment with david cronenberg & david lynch Fincher: so stay tuned for Fincher: David, David & David Fincher: coming this fall

Fincher: [bursting into room, arms flailing] David! David! I've got huge news! Lynch: the deep in the dark, the eyes in the snail? [Sustained Audience hooting and hollering, 30 sec]

Fincher: David, what am I gonna do? This dog followed me home... [camera close-up on dog, sustained audience 'awwww' 30 sec] Fincher: but David Cronenberg HATES mammalian life forms! What am I gonna do?? Lynch: the deep in the dark, the eyes in the snail [audience hooting, 2 min]

Fincher: you're saying that I should disguise this dog as a xenomorph? Lynch: the deep in the dark, the eyes in the snail Fincher: that's crazy! it would never work [smash cut to Fincher dressing dog as a xenomorph, audience laughter 10 sec]

David Cronenberg: hey honey i'm home! Cronenberg: god what a day Cronenberg: my boss down at the ponderous 70s sci fi factory was riding my ass all day Cronenberg: the brechtian distancing mechanism got jammed again

Fincher: oh gee that sounds awful Fincher: maybe you'll feel better after you sit in your favorite weird chair made of teeth and spinal columns? Fincher: here, put your feet up Fincher: let me get you your favorite pipe made out of gristle Cronenberg: why are you being so nice

[knock on door] Fincher: who could that be? Dean Koontz: hi everyone! [sustained audience applause, 40 sec] Fincher: why, it's our wacky next door neighbor dean koontz! Koontz: i heard you had a dog here! [sustained audience laughter, 50 sec]

Koontz: i just wanted to come over and see your new dog Fincher: ixnay on the ognay! Cronenberg: a dog?! what's all this about Cronenberg: DAVID is there a dog in the house?? >:C Cronenberg: you know how i feel about animals with all their organs on the inside! >:C

Fincher: you don't understand david Fincher: this dog is really friendly! Cronenberg: you know how i feel about mammalian life forms! Fincher: he's a good dog! you'll like him! he's got veins! he's full of them! Cronenberg: that's NOT good enough!

Cronenberg: show me this dog! [dog waddles out, wearing xenomorph suit] Cronenberg: Cronenberg: that's a xenomorph Fincher: yeah i know it's stupid Cronenberg: I LOVE XENOMORPHS! Fincher: you do? Cronenberg: i admire their purity [chef's kiss]

Fincher: does that mean we can keep him? Cronenberg: only if you promise to take good care of him Cronenberg: a dog is a big responsibility Cronenberg: you have to shine that chrome carapace everyday Lynch: the deep in the dark, the eyes in the snail! [audience goes wild]

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #dean koontz #david fincher #david cronenberg #david lynch

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langdonss · 5 months ago

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MEDIA: ❛ AMERICAN HORROR STORY ❜

THEMES: Evil government, abduction, corruption

The moon stares down upon you, bright and eerie, piercing through your window in all its fullness. The slight red tint of it casts a shadow on your tired face that is smooshed into your pillow. You’re off somewhere else, lost in a deep deep sleep whilst your body has sunken into the bedding, completely unaware of what’s about to happen to you… Your foot glides softly across the cool sheets of your bed, the perspiration causing messy hair to stick to your forehead in the humid summer night air.

The floors creak in the dead of night amongst the crickets chirping near your window, their singing coming to an unnatural halt which make the air feel… Eerily still…. The wall goes bump, another floor board creaks and then there’s nothing… Until, your bedroom door slowly sways open, not making a single sound.

Suddenly, two sets of arms lunge toward where you lay asleep in your bed, quickly and securely grabbing your body. You jolt upwards, your eyes snapping open in a panicked haze. Not a word is uttered, but your screams pierce through the entire house like a banshee and not a single grunt is forced from either man dressed in black while they effortlessly take control and hold of you, picking you up from your mattress. Something swiftly swoops down over your head faster than you can comprehend, and their hands work fast to tie your struggling arms into tight ropes before carrying you off from the confines of your room through the halls, their boots stomping.

❝ You're only making this more difficult for yourself. ❞

A mans deep voice speaks out as you yell and struggle, a hand clamps over your shrieking mouth firmly shutting you up. Every kick and flail is counteracted by an iron grip that makes your fighting limbs go limp.

You muffle through the fabric, but no answer is given. Instead, you're thrown against a cushioned surface, and the sound of a large car door slides shut, the sound pounding in your ears whilst the earth shifts from under you quicker than you can stomach, your body sliding against the seating as the vehicle takes off. Your pulse is pumping faster than it ever has in your entire life that you’d swear your heart could explode and give out any second now. A million thoughts race in your mind of what is happening, are you being kidnapped? Trafficked? You don’t want to find out. You scream again, your plea falling on uncaring ears. The silence eats away at you, it’s so fucking quiet in the cloth bag that’s wrapped over your head, each and every bump and creak sounds so far off in the distance, and the air is constricted just enough so you can still at least breathe. The drive to wherever the men are taking you seems to last forever, and eventually you give up, all the squirming and calling out for answers gets you absolutely no where. You lay there on your side, you can’t imagine how pathetic you look all curled up back there, a bag over your head, your arms tied at your front. Tears have stained your face to the point it’s burning your cheeks and the insides of your confinement is annoyingly moist. How much crying can you do before you run all out and dehydrate yourself?

❝ We’re heading near the base, prepare the gates. ❞ One of the mens voice calls out in the dead silence, causing you to snap out of your depressed dissociation and become alert.

The vehicle enters on a gravel path, slowing its speed as it approaches toward a giant gate in the middle of nowhere. A man, Mr. Langdon, awaits your arrival at the other side of the gates as it swings open at a snails pace. The men take the drive further up ahead and the gate closes behind them, before they jump out from their seats to walk around to either side of the car to fetch you.

The doors are forced open, and you hear another persons foot steps approaching in the gravel of the driveway.

❝ I see you’ve gathered her in one piece. Your handiwork is much appreciated. ❞

A new voice speaks out in a smooth and almost elegant tone. You stay still and silent, but your breathing hitches with anxiety at the nonexistent context of what’s going on or where you’ve been taken to. The men grab your body up, dragging you from the back seat and propping you on your feet before you begin to scream and throw your legs out just as you did earlier.

❝ She’s not going to cooperate. ❞

Mr. Langdon remarks snidely. You can hear the amusement in his voice as he watches the men pick you up and throw you over their shoulder. They begin walking off, and your body is moved back and forth with each step they take as they hold you down with a strength that is unmatched.

You sob, feeling the man carrying you come to a halt while he waits for the other to follow, his hand quickly retrieving into his pocket for a key card, sliding it into the lock of the door before where they stand. A mechanical swoosh and a beep fill the air, followed by a loud sound of something opening before they resume their walk down a dimly lit corridor of a facility.

Their stomping boots echo off the black walls, and his hand tightens on your back side. Quicker than you can understand, something sharp jabs into your upper arm, the surroundings begin to blur all into one.

You’re almost at your destination…

…. Brightness envelops your surroundings in a quick flash, your eyes close shut tightly to block out this new harsh lighting, turning your head to look away as a groan escapes your lips. A deep breath fills your nostrils, you can breathe, you can see. You thought the time would never come. But you fail to recognize where the hell you are, and your half concentration is disrupted by the sound of heavy boots approaching against the cold floor of the dim and chilling room.

Clack.. clack… clack..

A tall, and brooding figure steps from the confines of the corner of what you can only guess is some sort of government facility. His jawline, sharp, protrudes with amusement at the distressed little sight of you where you sit, still tied in place. You squint, looking around. Your wrists burn in the ropes that hold you back.

❝ You put up quite the fuss earlier…. I’m not sure that warrants you insight on the situation at hand. ❞ Mr Langdon teases, his voice deep and mocking. He steps closer, the flourescent lights up above flicker down upon his features; Sneering lips, golden blonde hair that curls perfectly around his ears, icy hues that stare into your soul.

A gloved hand delicately reaches out down toward you, the mahogany leather on his fingers shining in the light. ❝ Poor thing, bound and tied with no idea what’s to come…❞

You interject as best you can, the effects of the injection from earlier still barring its toll on you. Lips move slowly and your words come out in a slur.

❝ What… what is this… place…? What do you want? ❞

The man only stares at you with a widening smirk, taking a moment to carefully articulate his answer in a way you will understand best.

❝ Our exact motivations are none of your concern, for now. The only concern you should have is your future here, with us. What you can give the Cooperative. ❞

You swallow a knot in your throat. Nothing could prepare you for what was coming…

#PART 1 #READ TAGS FOR MORE INFO ;#just wanted to quickly clarify that I am in no way the best at writing but I rlly wanted to make something for the fandom #I hope u guys like it if you do pls reblog and comment ur thoughts and what u want for part 2 ect !#ahs #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfiction #ahs fanfiction #American horror story fanfiction #cody fern fanfiction #Cody fern #my writing

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