#hi i saved this in my drafts yesterday

[findafight]

Y'all fucking looooove "media analysis" until that media analysis means understanding Vickie is bi through the means of "she had a boyfriend but they broke up, and now she is flirting with Robin, who is established to have a crush on her." Like ooooh I wonder what the lesbian being flirted with by her crush who her bff has been telling he suspects likes girls and just broke up with her boyfriend means!!

[ganondoodle]

so with echoes of wisdom .. i havent watched any of the trailers beyond the very first one and the thumbnails/screenshots and what others have said about it-

but with the world inside the rift being called "Welt des Nichts" aka "world of nothing/void" in german ('still' in english, for some reason) and demises title in french being "avatar of nothing" ... yeah my anxiety is shooting through the roof again

(hopefully you can be a little more forgiving for me being anxious/weird about it bc demise is my blorbo)

i had similar worries with totk, that werent proven true thankfully, but the darn book is making it all worse again with all those weird lore things the game doesnt even so much as hint at AND potential retcons- im in for a really rough time huh, not just stress in real life (more in tags.. its alot) but now about my specific hyperfixation from two things even (AND artblock still..)

weird as it may sound, i dont want demise to get more lore, partly bc i dont believe theyd do anything with him that i would like (given their track record) but much more importantly- the fact that he has this little lore about him is precisely one of the reasons why i fell in love with him, i tend to like characters that are neglected by the narrative, and his story being both so flat and already done meant i can be very creative with what i come up with for him without necessarily contradicting anything in canon (which is ... or was a big point of how i wrote destiny's story and lore, working with canon in a way that reframes it all without straight up ignoring it ... but i suppose i urgently need to let go of that and accept i spend alot of time working things that will go to waste :( ) AND not having to worry that there will be more stuff with him that would massively change not only what im writing but also potentially how i feel about him since the game he was briefly in was the oldest chronologically and ended with his death- i didnt expect them to mess with anything that far back and thought theyd just go forward and leave the timeline behind and wouldnt mess with it again, given how botw seemed to be a sort of 'fresh start' that seemingly regarded the past as the past that needs to rest and that the timeline was finally no longer a discussion if everythings unified through botw and one thing going forward

but i suppose i was very wrong with that .__.

right now the only thing that motivates me still is the left over determination and spite to work on my zelda comic, since i have never gotten this far and really want to get something done for once, but i cant lie that im feeling like i should pause all work on it too to wait and see waht the book and the new game will do .. either to determine if i still have the will to keep working on it after those things are out (my love for tloz has been taking alot of hits lately ..) or if i have to change stuff (mostly bc of my lore problem trying to not ignore it ..)

[legosreallyarekissable]

I’m calling this hyper mood “Jay Mood”

[rosicheeks]

bestie we just might need some Murphy selfies … for mental health ☺️

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

In another life

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Summary: Reader is transported to another dimension where nobody knows her.

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood and minor injury.

Hope you guys enjoy, I actually found this deep in my drafts and said what the hell and posted.

Next Part

It was just another typical day where Gojo and his students were walking to the destination of their next mission.

"Why do curses have to cause trouble on hot days, ugh what a pain" Nobara groaned shielding her eyes from the scorching sun.

"I told you to bring a hat" Yuji pointed out, somehow unbothered by the tortuous weather.

"But hats are so tacky!"

"Then don't complain" Megumi sighed annoyed as usual.

"Don't worry, we can get some nice cold ice cream after we exorcise the curse, in fact I know the best spot! It's a little hole in the wall place but they have the best- huh?"

Gojo suddenly whipped around at the sudden burst of curse energy he sensed.

"What the hell is that?!" Yuji shouted as he stared at a hole crackling in the sky getting bigger and bigger.

"Not sure, but I don't like what I'm sensing. Everyone be ready..”

"Right" they all tensed and got into attack positions.

What they didn't except though was to see a head pop out of the warp, followed by a body. A woman seemingly limp, began to plummet from the warp. Which promptly closed the second she had left.

"What the hell?" Nobara squinted trying to figure out if the figure looked dangerous.

Gojo didn't feel any malicious energy anymore now that the warp had vanished so he sprung into action and caught the woman before she became a pile of mush on the ground.

"Sensei what if shes dangerous?" Yuji frowned.

"Hm" he kneeled down still holding the woman. He eyed down her figure. She had some scratches and a few bruises but other than that she seemed ok...

So what was a human doing falling through a warp in the sky.

"I don't believe shes a threat, not that I can sense anyway..."

"The energy from that warp felt seriously freaky" Nobara shivered.

Gojo was about to respond when a glint made him freeze. His brows furrowed when he grabbed the girls hand and brought it closer to his face. Now that was definitely peculiar…

"Mm" the group suddenly all jerked to the form now rousing in Gojos arms.

The womans eyes began to open slowly. It took them a moment to adjust to the light but then when they were fully open they suddenly became full of life.

"Eh?! What happened??" Her eyes widened as she looked around, becoming aware of her surroundings. "T-toru!!" No one was more shocked than Gojo as the woman launched her arms around their teacher as if her life depended on it.

"Are you alright? He didn't hurt you did he? Ah Of course he didn’t what am I saying…?! I-I'm sorry you had to come save me again, I don't know how he even snuck up on me!" the woman pulled back only a bit to face him, but still held on. "I promise you can train me as hard as you want from now on and I won't complain anymore"

(From now on you are the woman)

You paused noticing his bewildered expression. "What Is it Toru?"

"Um… not to sound rude or anything but….who are you?”

Your face twitched in shock, "Um Toru, now really isn't the time for jokes you know" you pouted slightly.

It was when he took your arms off of him that you felt something was majorly off.

"I assure you I'm not joking" he gently pushed you off and you shakily got to your feet and so did he.

"I don't...I don't understand...Toru, what do you mean you don't know me?" You tried to quell the panic that was rising. Surely he was just playing a prank right?? Right?!?

"You know who I am it seems…" he stated, eying you curiously.

"Know who you- Satoru Gojo if this is a joke you better stop it right now or I swear I'm going to eat all the kikifuku you brought back yesterday! It's not nice to confuse me after being so close to death you know!!"

He only quirked a brow at this, "Listen lady, you just fell from a hole in the sky, If anyones confused its us..."

This caught your attention, "Wait…What did you say?"

"He's right, you fell from this big hole in the sky miss. It closed right away after you came through". Your eyes drew to the new voice and you realized the others were here too.

"Yuji..." his eyes widened and he pointed to himself, "You know me?"

You felt your panic rise more, "Of course I know you! All of you, Megumi, Nobara you're all like family to me, why don't you know who I-" you froze. A cold fear overtaking you. The hole. His technique. You got caught up in it. You weren't saved. Satoru hadn't made it in time.

"I t-think, I u-um" you felt your breathing begin to quicken and forming words seemed impossible.

"I t-think I got t-t-transported by the curse I was f-fighting" you felt your whole body shaking and tried to control your breathing.

"Hey calm down, we'll figure things out soon enough" you stepped back abruptly knowing what that tone and outstretched hand meant.

"D-don't knock me out, you promised you wouldn't do it anymore.." although you supposed that this Gojo had no idea.

He seemed troubled at what to do but sighed a moment later.

"For now why don't we just head back to the school..." you reguarded him for a moment then hesitantly shook your head.

"Alright..." you silently followed everyone, feeling more nervous with every silent step.

The quiet was maddening and you were grateful that Yuji spoke up finally,probably becoming aware of your borderline panic attack "Don't worry, weird things are always happening here. We'll figure whatever this is out ok?" You managed to crack a little tired smile.

"Yeah".

*************************************************

Of the many times you had been sat across Yaga, this was the first time you were ever intimidated.

"Start from the beginning" was all he said as you fidgeted in discomfort. Gojo stood beside Yaga, leaning back on the wall, while Yaga sat imposing as if he was dealing with a curse.

You took a deep breathe and recalled what had happened just before all this madness.

"Well I was just leaving my house to go to the school... I recieved a message saying I needed to report there immediately and I didn't hesitate, thinking maybe something bad had happened...but on the way I was attacked by a curse. I'm not really much of a fighter but I am a little skilled at barriars, so I was able to shield myself against his attacks. The curse became frustrated when he realized he couldn't land a major hit and before I knew it he had sent a huge blast in my direction. I shielded but it didn't matter, I remember feeling really hot and then the next thing I knew I was waking up in Satoru’s arms..."

You peeked at Yaga and saw he was deep in thought. Finally after painful silence he finally spoke, "This curse you fought, what did it look like?"

"He looked kinda like that tree curse thing that the kids fought back at the exchange event, except his presence was..." it was then something struck you. You recall feeling something was off the entire fight. Something oddly familiar and it had just hit you what that was. The smell the energy the odd aura.

"Wait…” both men perked up at this.

"What is it?"

"That's why he felt so familiar!" you said more to yourself in your horror.

"Who are you talking about?"

"The curse...he felt familiar because I've sensed that same presence before..."

They waited for you to continue, "Back when Toru and Megumi first recovered that cursed object...and had me place an extra seal on it...but Toru never mentioned it was stolen? Why didn't he say anything...unless it wasn't stolen but then how did he get unseal- shit"

You ran a hand over your face, "You were right about the spy after all Toru..."

"How can you know all this- the exchange event, who we are, private information if we don't even know who you are?” Yaga eyed you suspiciously.

"I think I can answer that" all eyes snapped to Gojo.

"You mentioned a curse being unsealed, one that megumi and I brought in correct?"

You nodded

"Its a just a theory but I have a hunch I'm correct, tell me, what was the curses name?"

"Ah um...lemme think, it was definitely...uh...ama...amamoo, amamee, uh wait...."

"Amamotetsu?" Gojo offered which promptly made Yaga flinch in shock.

"Yeah that's it!" You jumped up.

"Amamotetsu-! But how?!" Yaga tensed shooting up.

"I'm not sure how he got unsealed but...this isn't the first time I've heard this type of thing happening before.."

This caught your attention, "What do you mean?"

"When Megumi and I first retrieved the curse, we teamed up with Nanami. He was the one who told us about this curse's history... apparently this particular curse is known for transcending through times and universes-"

"W-what?" You felt your body slump down. What did that mean?? Did that mean you- that you were in a different universe?! How-what- you felt your whole body begin to shake.

This was the first time Yaga seemed to let down his guard because he now was beginning to understand you weren't a threat.

You felt something warm being placed on your shoulders. You looked up at Yaga through blurred lenses.

"Yaga..." your voice broke as did the dam holding back your tears... how could this have happened?! What were you even supposed to do?! And Satoru, what was he even going through now?!"

"Listen, theres no need to panic, we'll figure it out alright?" He assured you, but it wasn't quite the same knowing he didn't know you." You nodded anyway.

"Satoru, why don't you call Nanami, we'll see what more he can tell us...in the meantime it would help if we knew some more about you and the curse." You nodded and braced yourself for the onslaught of questions.

"First off, it's quite clear you're close to us, so are you a teacher here or something?" You a teacher? If you weren't so upset you'd laugh

"Teacher? No, I actually work in the city..but I do help out occasionally at the school when I'm needed.."

"So then how did you get involved with us in the first place?" you looked over to where Satoru was finishing the call with Nanami.

"Well...Satoru helped me fight off a curse one time, that's how we met. He basically saved me and then convinced me to train with him...since then I've always kinda been around.." you twiddled with the ring on your finger, more specifically the ring he gave you on that special day.

Yaga must've of noticed your hesitance. "Something tells me there's more to the story.." you looked up with sad eyes, then over to where satoru was also now tuned in, phone in his pocket. You took a deep breathe.

"No it's just, it's finally sinking in ya know..." you decided to keep that part about your relationship quiet for now. You were already overwhelmed and just wanted to lie down for awhile. Your injured although mild still hurt and you were now feeling the true exhaustion settle in.

Yaga looked at you sympathetically then nodded, "Why don't you rest for little, Satoru?" He got off the wall, "Nanami will come by tonight, for now I'll take her to Shoko. Yaga nodded then patted your shoulder gently, "Try to get some sleep, we'll figure all this out" you thanked him quietly then followed Satoru out the room.

You quietly trailed behind him in the dim hallway. His back had never made you feel so lonely.

You didn't even realize you were crying until you felt the coldness on your cheeks. Satoru pasued a sec to turn around.

"Hey, there's no need for tears, didn't you hear us? We'll figure it out"

You nodded despondently.

"C'mon, have I ever let you down before?" He smirked.

You smirked through the tears, "Always so confident, no matter what universe huh" you wiped away your tears with your sleeve and walked next to him.

"Well I am the strongest, I'm sure any other version of me would no doubt be the same"

"Yeah maybe arrogant is the better word.."

"Awe don't be mean now, after all for you to be so casual around me, we must be friends yeah?"

"Yeah you could say that..." you absentmindedly twirled the ring around your finger. Remembering the way he proposed all those years ago.

"And here we are, Shoko!” He called busting inside without knocking.

"How many times have I told you not just to barge in here?”

"Well it's an emergency of sorts"

"Huh?" She finally looked up from her work.

You waved shyly.

"And who's this?"

"Well now that's a bit complicated..."

**************************************************

"Take it easy alright, and if you need anything here's my cell"

"Thanks Shoko, oh wait my phone!" You suddenly remembered and frantically patted your body down.

You sighed in relief pulling out the device, seemingly unharmed by some miracle.

But then your brows furrowed seeing the blue case instead of your own and a sticky note with a tongue sticking out. *Bring this to me at work will you baby, then I can see your beautiful face*

You felt your irritation rise, "Of all the days Satoru you had to switch our phones today!? Ugh" you ripped off the note, usually you loved these little pranks but now you wanted to kill him.

"Huh what did I do?"

"Sorry not you, other you.." you clicked the on button and tried a variety of passwords.

Dammit satoru

"Wait is that my phone?" He peered over your shoulder.

You perked up, "yeah it is! Do you know the password?”

"Hmm lemme try" he grabbed it out of your hands and you waited anxiously.

"Got it"

"Wait really?!"

"Yep, All great gojos think alike-" he suddenly froze.

"What's wrong?" You eyed him curiously but he just stared at his phone dumfoundedly.

"How close did you say we were again...?"

Shoko curious leaned over and her eyes went wide.

"What do you mean, what are you looking at?" You moved next to him and gasped at the saved screen. A picture of you asleep in bed in something strappy, barely covered by the sheets and toru leaned over kissing your cheek.

"AH DON'T LOOK" you tried snatching the phone away but he held It above his head.

Ugh his stupid tallness!!

"Satoru wait!" You reached helplessly as he started scrolling through his camera roll. You were mortified to learn that most of them were candid shots of you. Some appropriate and some not.

You excersizing bent over, your sillohette behind the shower curtain, you licking a lollipop, you wearing a shirt of his on laundry day…

"Geez were you stalking her or something" shoko commented disturbed.

"Satoru! please!" Finally he let you snatch the phone back. Your face hotter than the sun.

"So I guess that's what you were hiding..."

you sighed knowing you couldn't keep it hidden much longer.

"I guess that explains a little why you have my grandmothers ring..”

this got your attention.

"Wait what??" Your eyes widened.

"This is you're grandmothers ring?!"

"You mean you didn't know...?" Shoko asked.

"No...you just gave it to me, but you never said it was hers" You felt a rush of warmth knowing how much she meant to him. Probably the only member of his clan that actually cared for him. Sadly she passed when he was young. The truth is this was the ring he gave you when he proposed- or more like told you he was gonna marry you and you didn't have a choice- not that you were gonna say no to the cocky idiot.

"So what's your relationship with other Gojo then?" Shoko asked.

"Well uh...that's a little...." You hesitated wondering if you should say.

"Might as well say it, I mean obviously other me and you are pretty close" he motioned to the phone.

sigh

here goes

"I guess some might say...well if you look at it one way...um... I guess legally and technically other you, and me are what some might call...married"

"What no way?! Gojo actually settled down!?”

“Hey don’t sound so surprised! Although to be honest.. I’m finding that a little hard to believe myself..”

“Well you weren’t exactly a one woman guy when I met you..”you recalled all his various flings in the time before you were dating.

“The other me must be worried then huh?”

I sigh, “I wonder if you’ve figured out what happened yet..”

“Don’t worry, I’m really smart, there’s no way I wouldn’t know”

“Cocky bastard” I let out a tired laugh.

BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT

“Huh?”

“Wait is other gojos phone ringing?”

“Yeah it says “Wifey is calling..”

“What no way!? How?!” I jump to grab the phone and answer the call. Not knowing really what to expect. Maybe the tower got mingled weirdly.

“H-hello??” I call out anxiously.

“Y/n? Where are you!?”

“T-Toru!!!” I can’t help but cry out.

“Are you ok? What happened?? Why can’t I sense your energy in the city?”

“T-Toru I was attacked on the way to the school! I think that curse- amamama got free and he sent me to another dimension!!!”

“Babe..have you been drinking?”

“I’m serious Toru! That curse! The one you and Megumi brought for me to add a seal to! He sent me to another dimension! I’m here with another version of you!!”

“…is this payback for because I said your ass got bigger? Because you know I meant that as a compliment.”

“Y-you idiot!! I’m serious!!”

“No kidding? You’re being serious?”

“Would I joke about something like this?”

“… hold on a sec” a woosh sound emits from the speaker

“Shit..”

“Toru?”

“I just transported to the road. I can sense the residual energy…I see blood, were you hurt?” He sounds more serious now.

“I’m ok.. Shoko fixed me up..”

“So what…you’re in a dimension parallel to ours?”

“Not exactly… I guess I don’t exist here.. or at least I’m not apart of everyone’s lives..”

“…don’t worry alright? I’ll figure this out, have I ever let you down?”

I give this gojo a knowing look,

“Never.”

“Plus my birthdays coming up, and you promised to do that thing I like as much as I want so how can I let you be in another dimension for too long?”

“Ah Toru you’re on speaker you know!!”

“Hey other me you there?!” Your gojo suddenly shouted.

“Uh yep I’m here..”

“This is definitely a first.. ahem well anyway until I get this sorted out take care of our girl alright?!She’s pretty weak so keep an ey-“

“Hey!”

“As I was saying, keep an eye on her. Also make sure she gets iron pills from the pharmacy since hers are here. Oh and she’s allergic to tuna and if she stays out in the sun too long she’ll get this weird rash-“

“I’m hanging up” you reached for the button.

“Hey cmon I’m not there-well I’m kind of there but I just wanna make sure my baby is taken care of!!”

“I’m an adult not a child! You don’t need to say all these things, I can take care of myself here just fine!!”

“Pfft says the one who made me transport home in the middle of a mission to kill a cockroach.”

“IT HAD WINGS”

“Alright alright, I know you’re a big girl. Let me go so I can figure this all out quickly and get you back.”

“Yeah..ok”

“Hey, no crying ok?”

“Ok.. I guess I’ll talk to you later? We are meeting Nanami here because he has knowledge about the curse apparently. I’ll let you know how that goes..”

“Alright, later then.”

“Love you Toru…”

“Not as much as I love me”

“Pfft asshole”

“Heh, there’s that laugh I love so much. love ya sweetheart, be careful ok?”

“I will”

*click*

For the first time since your arrival you felt some relief.

You awkwardly looked up to the pair and found Shoko dumbfounded and satoru scratching the back of his head.

“Still can’t believe it…”

“Um well that was definitely a first…”

“So what now?” Shoko took a drag seeming bored already.

“Now we go and see if Nanami can make sense of this. Come on, he’s waiting for us.” He motioned and you followed with a bit more hope now.

The power of two Gojos with one goal? Yeah you’d be home before you knew it.

Should I continue this? Make it into a series? Lemme know:) thanks for reading!

Part 2

[heartofmortis]

✧ exile (what a ghostly scene)

. *. ⋆ Anakin / Vader x Reader

summary: you were bail organa’s ward, raised on alderaan with your younger sister. in the twilight of the clone war, you and anakin fell in love. when the war died, it dragged you and anakin to early graves with it — leaving only darth vader behind. even after years without you, he still wants you back. and there is nothing he would not do to bring you back to him. . .

tags: angst, tragic romance, suitless vader, no y/n, gn reader, inspired by the 2020 vader comics & vader immortal, past major character death, mourning, vader needs a hug, resurrection

note: my first reader/second person fic — i’m sorry if the tense is bad ajsjwjwjqjq. i’ve had this in my drafts for soooo long and i finally decided to finish it 🫶

word count: 1k

part 1 of 4

The stars have died, fizzling out into oblivion. All that remains is a charcoal heart that once belonged to Anakin Skywalker.

The boy from Tatooine is unreachable now, trapped inside the twisted soul of Darth Vader. The galaxy’s beloved Hero With No Fear is gone. With the rise of the Empire, the Jedi and their sympathisers will be erased from memory. A clean slate to start a new era.

Three years after the creation of the Empire, Darth Vader stands alone. His tower on Mustafar is isolating; its strategic position is a constant reminder of that day. His injuries still hurt sometimes: phantom itches on his now metal legs; scars from his burns that did not fully heal. The medical droids say he is lucky — the fire could have done more serious damage, and he could have been forced to rely on a suit keeping him alive for the rest of his days. Instead, the ebony coloured mask and suit he wears are to conceal his identity. A precaution so that Anakin Skywalker can fade from people’s tongues and memory, leaving the tyranny of Darth Vader in its place.

The weight of his failures is not the heaviest burden. Darth Vader drowns in his anger and grief. He was not strong enough to kill Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was not strong enough to save you.

(All things die. Even stars burn out.)

You were the stars in his sky, his light in the dark, the silvery moon to his blazing sun. So tender and kind. Perhaps your heart was too good for this world. Perhaps, it was your weakness all along. (How could peace ever love a dragon?)

Since you met, you had been Anakin’s sun. You anchored him; guided him home. You were his destiny. And, without you, the galaxy had turned cold. The fiery world outside, all hot air and lava fields, only stood as a reminder of his failure. He’d lost you. After everything Anakin had tried — surrendering himself to the dark side, betraying the light — he could not save you. Time had not quelled the pain.

Vader wonders if you would still recognise him. His copper hair has grown longer (he remembers how you used to cut it for him after he returned from another mission, and you’d giggle as you braided thin locks together), but his face hides behind an obsidian mask. You always loved the blue of Anakin’s eyes, but now they are blazing amber.

Mornings are the only time Vader allows himself to dwell on the past. It is when he finds himself alone and does not have to hide.

Vader recalls how you arrived on Mustafar like it was yesterday. (You haunt him every waking moment.) He could sense your conflicted emotions as soon as you disembarked your ship. Vader wasted no time approaching you, drawing you into his arms (where you belonged; where you were safe). His lips reconnected with yours, fitting together like puzzle pieces as he kissed you hungrily, his hands settled on your hips to keep you close.

You and Anakin had met after turning nineteen. He and Obi-Wan were called to Alderaan to protect the Queen and Viceroy from an assassination attempt. Being their ward, you had been there the whole time and quickly formed a connection with the young padawan — your relationship had blossomed during the Clone Wars.

He rested his forehead against yours as you spoke. “I heard terrible things. Tell me none of it is true.”

Vader hadn’t replied immediately and instead drew his head back to look at you. He would tell you any sweet lie if he needed to as he fought to quell the anger flaring in his eyes. “What have you been told?”

“Obi-Wan told me—”

Vader’s grasp around you tightened protectively. “Obi-Wan is alive?”

“He said you’d killed Jedi. Killed younglings.”

“You must not believe him, my love. He’s a traitor.”

It wasn’t the answer you sought, and you took a step backwards out of your husband’s grasp. “What have you done?”

“I did this for you. To save you.” He cupped your chin in his flesh hand and whispered your name. “I love you.”

Your eyes trained into his. There was no denial, no remorse in his stature; his only regret was letting Obi-Wan tell you anything.

He repeated his words. “I did this for you.”

From the shadows of your cloak, you drew a blaster. Only a small, weak thing. Vader watched your hands tremble. He did admire your courage. “Fix this,” you demanded. “Please,” you begged.

Anger flickered in Vader’s eyes. He had never seen you unimpressed with him. With an easy glide of his hand, Vader used the Force to knock the blaster out of your grip and pin your arms by your sides

“I am stronger than the Chancellor now,” he explained desperately, drawing you to his side. “I can overthrow him. Then you and I can be together; we can run away — just like you always wanted to.”

(But you didn’t. He lost you. Some might call you a traitor — Vader maintains that you were misguided.)

Three years later, regret still festers inside Vader’s hollow soul. There must have been a way to save you.

He misses you endlessly: craving your touch and the sound of your voice. (There is nothing Vader desires more than to have you back in his arms.)

Part of him wants to forget. To cast his memories of you into an abyss; to put the past behind him. But it is an impossible task. You are too well tangled into his soul. You haunt him. (And you’ll haunt him until his death.)

Today, there is no time to focus on you. A new morning brings meetings and training. You were Anakin’s Achilles Heel — but Darth Vader shows no such weakness. As Vader sits on his throne, reading over mission logs and other updates from the spread of the Empire across the galaxy, he receives a message: he must make his return to Coruscant immediately. (Your memory pulls him under the ocean again until he can no longer breathe.)

[moonbaby26]

Title: Before the Storm

(Chapter 17 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, binge drinking, vaginal sex, toxic relationship, dubious consent, depression

Chapter Synopsis: The very night of your official engagement to Doflamingo, you are also made to sign your life away to Dressrosa’s king.

You spiral, punishing yourself as he plans to change your past even further. While others still move as distant pieces in the even larger game. 

Author’s Notes: For those that do follow this story and read as soon as it updates, I’m so sorry you had to wait 5,000 years this time! I wish there was more here as a reward for that patience. I’m sure there are still typos too. Please proceed with caution! It just needed to be out of my drafts. I’ll proofread after I sleep again. Maybe. 😅

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5, 6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

——————————

—————————— 

Something was going wrong with the submarine again. Nothing catastrophic, but it could always progress to that if they didn’t take the time to investigate and repair as they went. Pieces became worn and overtaxed easily. Noises that weren’t even there yesterday would suddenly manifest, anxiety inducing, so many fathoms deep in the darkness.

Law was sure there was a metaphor for their lives in there somewhere too. Just like he and his crew. How much this craft could really endure, until one day it just wouldn’t anymore.

He’d still felt that mental weight on himself as well. Fresh and nagging ever since Doflamingo’s name had been put back to the forefront of his mind with those first reports from Scylla just days ago.

Ghosts of his past had churned up enough that Law was almost glad when that bearing in the engine room had started making a newer, awful whining sound.

It was excuse enough to breach the surface and focus on anything else as they’d headed for another island to both look for parts and avoid the heavier than normal marine patrols in this region of the North Blue.

There’d been a pirate attack on a nearby island called Orlinde. At least that’s what Law had heard. Some shithole port town there, with no real wealth or industry of its own had been burned to the ground. And it hadn’t made much sense as to why. Seemingly foolish to risk the ire of the navy when there’d be no treasure or significant beri to even be had in a place like that.

But whatever the reasoning for those other pirates, their actions there had the marines now swarming. To the point that it funneled anyone actively trying to avoid arrest or other harassment further east.

To an unaffiliated island chain that Law had ordered his crew to then disembark at. All save for Bepo anyway, as strolling through the center of town with an overly nervous ball of white fluff wouldn’t have helped much in their bid to keep a low profile.

They had intended to be here just long enough to find what they needed and to make repairs. But every other outlaw in the area had much the same idea. Crew after crew camping out here as an easy stopover while waiting for the larger marine presence to die down nearby.

And this many egos all right on top of each other became a perfect powder keg for disaster really.

Shachi and Penguin were now on either side of their captain, trying to look as unbothered as he seemed while all three boys stuck tightly together.

They walked past the crowded stores and food stalls. With drunken cursing, and all other sounds of debauchery already going on this soon after sunset.

An old man at the harbor had said there was a store in this direction that sold supplies for ship building. It was worth a try to start there first.

But that unsettled feeling was still in Law’s mind. He was too inexperienced to fully understand it yet. The unnamed intuition which had more to do with what would be happening rather than just what could.

“Hey, Spots!”

And there, a male voice had called out loudly. The first inkling of trouble just this soon.

Law’s eyes had flitted up to an open doorway of one of the bars farther up the street. But the teen kept walking, silent to show his crew he expected much the same from them.

Yet the stranger’s second try to get their attention was even louder than the first, as the owner of that voice stepped into the muddy street in front of them. “Hey, I’m talking to you, you prick!”

And Law did stop reluctantly then, not in fear, but in annoyance. He knew an immediate waste of his time when he saw one.

The man that’d been yelling was about his own age though. Young and snide with a grinning girl under one arm. The man’s other hand held a large blade that now pointed towards Law and his crew.

“Are you hard of hearing? I mean that’s what’s on your hat, right? Black spots? You all look damn stupid I think. But my girl likes your hat. So how much do you want for it, kid?”

The stranger sounded a bit drunk actually. And the girl ribbed him in her reaction. “Fur is in fashion, Sarquiss! So don’t be so stingy. Make them an offer! You know Joker’s gonna pay us good this time regardless.“

Sarquiss? Joker? Those were just two more names that Law had never heard before. They meant nothing to him as the idiots continued to talk.

“This kid’s pretty skinny though. What if he freezes, baby? It’s awful cold out here.” The man smirked down at her, flirting abruptly in return as if he hadn’t just been the one that’d started this whole confrontation.

What kind of fool ever looked away while in the middle of threatening someone though? 

These dolts would have been eaten alive in the ways Law had originally been taught. Because seeing the first opening only meant that the first move was his.

It would have been the first kill too if Law had still been that literal to those old teachings. But he left his own sword sheathed against his shoulder.

As it was now, he had no interest in making a scene. Law had planned to initiate a room and simply swap the blade that man held for some of the fresh horse shit he’d already noticed piled up along the street’s edge.

The resulting shock and disgust would have caused plenty of distraction for him, Shachi, and Penguin to quickly be on their way.

But that heavy feeling within Law had somehow remained, even as his hand and lips had begun to move with that whisper of a room.

A dread in him that was not explained until the moment that stranger’s coat had opened further with his playful movements against the girl.

And Law’s eyes had widened as he finally saw the distinct tattoo across that man’s chest. That feeling clicking in him as he knew the absolute mistake he was about to make even before it happened.

No.

He could not stop himself.

He didn’t want to.

“Takt.”

Shachi and Penguin’s surprised gasps were drowned out as the girl’s resulting scream met Law’s ears. 

Her boyfriend’s body had been ripped away from her without warning. And flung like a ragdoll, straight through the bar’s long window and all those wooden slats which supported it. 

It was a terribly loud crash, so many eyes then looking to Law and his friends from both sides of the street.

The Heart Pirates didn’t hesitate either.

“Go!” Law yelled. 

And all three of them had doubled back, beginning to sprint for the harbor.

——————————

Sarquiss had landed hard, stunned and sprawled on that barroom floor to the brief silence of so many other pirates inside. His own crew was chief among them.

The circular tattoo on his chest now smiled to the ceiling. Its left eye struck through, and its wide grin becoming accented with fresh red as blood began to seep from so many cuts dealt from that broken window.

“I don’t…I don’t know what happened.” Sarquiss stammered, bewildered and in pain as another pirate’s boots came to stand near his head. 

“Somebody got a cheap shot in while you were buzzed on this shit liquor. That’s all.” The owner of those boots scoffed indignantly. “They’re trying to ruin our party.” But Bellamy still grinned in a practiced copy of that now scratched up jolly roger on his first mate’s chest.

He motioned for his other crew to help Sarquiss up off of the floor while he strode for the door. “It’s fine. I was getting bored of this place anyway. Gladius said we only had to lay low for a day or so after Orlinde before we could put our flags back up.”

Bellamy stood in the doorway then, just seeing the backs of those other young pirates disappearing behind a building further down the street as they ran.

“So meet me back at the ship.” His legs were already coiling as he readied to jump and start clearing right over those buildings to catch up with them. “I’ll get us some fresh meat, and we’ll have a little fun while we wait on Joker’s next instructions.”

——————————

The return to the palace had come soon enough. And you were drinking whiskey straight by that point, no ice, no mixer. Right out of a fancy cabinet of top shelf bottles that likely weren’t meant for anyone but the king himself. 

You were still in uniform, but long off duty in your own mind. With one of your legs crossed over the other, and an arm over the back of Doflamingo’s couch in his office. 

Whatever anger remained in you for your lack of choice in all of this, was enough to keep even the three executives away. That danger must have been exuding in your body language still. Though you felt their eyes on you intermittently regardless.

They were here to witness your defeat, and to congratulate their master on his success in spinning this into exactly what he wanted it to be. 

But you were staring at nothing while they talked. Your gaze on an empty corner currently, and miles from this well appointed room as you drank yourself away just as you’d wanted to do on that dark beach earlier this evening.

You were quietly furious for this treatment. But you also believed you were every bit as responsible for how quickly this relationship had escalated.

No one had picked up or dialed your phone for you the night you’d first called Doflamingo and asked him to meet you in Scylla.

No one had actually put a gun to your head and drug you into that beautiful church to wait for him alone.

No one had told you to fall for him.

Regardless of any blackmail he’d used to this point, you could have been less willing to let it work. You could have told the truth from the beginning and hid behind your betters. Tsuru, Aokiji, or likely even so many others who would have at least tried to help you.

The truth would set you free.

Wasn’t that the old saying? What an optimistic mismatch of words.

More like the truth would cut your heart out and feed it to you with a smile.

“(Y/N).” And his voice did easily rise through that other chatter.

He was the only one here that still would make you pay attention as you looked back to Doflamingo’s desk. Where he now sat, binding you to him for life with each additional swipe of his pen.

“Answer the magistrate’s final questions. It’s required.” The warlord ordered you then, yet with a veil of patience not yet fully undone.

Besides yourself and Doflamingo, the only others in this room were the executives and the government official that had arrived with all those stacks of paperwork and questions.

Questions for you too that you’d mostly ignored, especially once you’d been several glasses into the whiskey.

While peasants may just do a quick hop over to the local justice of the peace and call it a night, anyone becoming property and consort to a world government endorsed king seemingly had far more to worry about.

And when your gaze did go back to that thin little government busybody, he reminded you only of a small rat. Fussing with his hands in such a nervous way as the papers shuffled through them. Like wringing little paws, frightened and stuck between all the monsters now in this room.

“Why can’t you answer everything for me?” You exhaled back to Doflamingo though, the accumulating burn of the whiskey making your body feel so warm at least as you finally responded to the pirate.

“Because that’s not how this works.” Doflamingo replied, still tolerating you even then somehow. 

Your eyebrows raised. “Yeah? Since when? Because that’s all I’ve ever seen here.” You answered. He always spoke for you. He chose for you. He was the perfectionist. He was the control freak.

And you were the idiot.

A depressed woman who’d attempted to bury all her problems with a devil, just to be as surprised as anyone when she’d inevitably woken up in hell for her efforts.

“What’s the next question?” Doflamingo just asked the official directly then, all while looking back down to the papers he was still signing.

That warlord didn’t explode, he didn’t even raise his voice that time.

And you didn’t dwell on it as you went back to drinking, having gotten what you wanted if even for a moment in being left alone.

It was only the executives that seemed to take notice, subtly surprised as Doflamingo allowed that little pushback.

“Ah, well…” The official still stammered. “Sire, the next section was about the verification of her birth status. She was born on the island of Orlinde, correct? Within the North Blue?”

“Yes. That’s already in her marine record.” Doflamingo’s tone was notably shorter with the official too, further confirming the clear difference in treatment you had just received.

“Well, there’s a slight discrepancy…a clerical error I’m sure.” That small man produced the weakest chuckle you’d ever heard. “I just needed her to say it was indeed an error.”

And Doflamingo did look back up at that, those facial muscles of his tightening in a way which never meant anything good. “What error?”

“The more discerning background check required for unions of this, um, level. It…it noted her name on the registry for Orlinde as being born to a…well, to a slave woman, sire.”

You felt the room change.

The official became even shakier too, horrified really as an inhuman growl came from that desk before the magistrate could say anything more.

“She was never born of a slave. So your first assumption of that being bad data was the correct one. Is that understood?”

And you were just watching. Observing these further lies as Doflamingo told them.

His lips were pulled back from his teeth in an expression you fully recognized too.

Note anything different and I’ll gut you where you goddamn stand. 

That’s what that energy so clearly said. 

“Of course, your highness! I’m fixing it now! I’ll correct it all immediately!”

You knew how fucked up it was for you just to be an observer to such bullying of the weak. You were supposed to protect others, even when they sniveled and whined like this man now was.

But you didn’t feel that guilty either as you uncrossed your legs and shifted on the couch.

And Doflamingo’s head turned the moment you had moved even that much again. 

You knew he had to do that, to properly see you at this angle. But something about that instant attention made you look at him even longer in return.

Because what did he think you were going to do?

What did he want you to do?

“King Doflamingo and Ms. (Y/N), that only leaves the oath itself…” The official’s fully uneasy voice interrupted those additional odd thoughts.

“Then go ahead.” The warlord commanded him just as quickly. “Read it to her.”

The official nodded, with a pen clutched in one of his sweating hands. And the final pages of all of that paperwork in the other as he looked down to read it.

“Ms. (Y/N)…do you hereby agree to loyalty until your death to King Donquixote Doflamingo of Dressrosa? Do you also understand the legal bindings of this union? And the consequences of non compliance, up to and including charges of treason against this aforementioned monarch and our World Government via his status as a sanctioned vessel beholden to our Holy Land of Mariejois?”

You really were too far gone for this shit.

So what? If you got into another fight and decked him when he deserved it, that’d now be the same as rebellion against the Red Line itself? Just because he was a government backed dictator?

Was arguing with him treason too? What about ever leaving this island? Was that desertion and dereliction of your soon to be wifely duties? 

Even signing your marine recruitment papers hadn’t felt this restrictive. And that’d been you literally agreeing to march to your own death if your commanding officers simply said to.

“Yeah…what else am I supposed to say?” You knew you weren’t going to be let out of this room otherwise. And you did want out as you stretched your legs away from you, still seated on that couch. 

Things were starting to feel too much for you again, like everything was closing in once more. “Fuck it…yes. I guess I do.” You forced another couple of breaths as you brought the whiskey glass to your lips again.

Or at least you’d tried to.

The strings that then looped around your wrist had jerked your hand hard enough to splash that liquid down the front of your shirt instead. Right before you were being pulled up and onto your feet.

“I already said yes, you-” You started to bitch at him immediately. It was hard enough to catch your balance when this inebriated without Doflamingo also pulling you so roughly to his desk.

“And I accept your agreement.” He laughed abruptly, cutting both you and the official off before any other response could be given.

It hurt you as your hips hit his desk. And with him already seated, he didn’t have to lean as far down to reach your mouth across that desk either.

Doflamingo got to taste the full brunt of that alcohol you were now hiding behind as he kissed you.

While you got to taste his still enduring desperation for any piece of you that was left for the taking.

It was going to be a very long night.

——————————

The paperwork was done and sent. Clothes were scattered across the floor, and Doflamingo was already back over the top of you in his massive bed.

A large glass of his best cava was in his hand as his hips pumped against you slowly while he drank. He was savoring the drawn out pressure of you around him, mixed into that chilled feeling of the sparkling wine now flooding down his throat.

He swallowed again, then moaning as his mouth came back off of the glass.

“You fucking lush…you’re such a bad influence.” He laughed a little after, running his thumb firmly over your parted mouth while his cock continued to move in and out between your legs at that languid pace.

He could nearly get off on just the sound of his own voice by now though. He was so stimulated. Everything felt good. Everything felt right.

Because he’d done it.

You were his in every legal way that mattered. 

And you were still somewhat conscious this time. The alcohol metabolizing enough by now to mostly take your voice. But you were watching him as he fucked you. His every action slow and deliberate as he fully enjoyed himself and this renewed lack of your resistance.

You even gave a few little moans and gasps as he rewarded you again by angling himself just right.

“Good girl…such a good girl for me. It feels amazing, doesn’t it?” He panted a bit anyway, his lust driving up his body temperature regardless of the careful pace. He reached briefly to set his now empty glass back onto the nightstand.

“I want this all the time…all the damn time. You know that right? I can’t stop…not when it’s you.” He just kept on, using that steady, long lasting rhythm.

He did try to keep his full weight off of your wounded thigh at least. Mindful of where he moved your leg as he took you. But this was still a celebration after all. He also wanted to feel you under him in all the right ways.

“Doffy…” You did grimace a little as the tip of him kissed against your cervix again.

He smiled at the plea of his name from your lips though. You were so pretty like this. And all of it was for him.

Maybe tomorrow your brain would be back to functioning well enough for him to explain your other wedding gifts as well.

Ever since the two of you had first sailed from Scylla together, he’d gotten busy with moving his chess pieces all over the board for you.

The nearest loyal mongrels Gladius could assign for him to your home island of Orlinde, had already razed that brothel you’d been born in to ash in a much needed cleansing of your pedigree.

While another official on Doflamingo’s payroll had just as recently planted forged documents of your revised parentage for Big News Morgans to find instead. 

Doflamingo had already teased you with the idea of gifting that Scyllian villa to you. The villa that became the first nest the two of you had ever slept side by side in, would of course now be important to him as well. It was not leaving your and his new family no matter what now.

But that was still not enough.

With the machinations he had going, your bloodline was going to be from Scylla.

Any children you could give him would then have both Dressrosa and Scylla to their credit.

Which, that was now another thing he needed to follow up on starting tomorrow. Caesar had had well enough time to deliver.

Doflamingo smiled again though as you shuddered quietly beneath him. 

“Still with me?” He hummed, seeing your eyes close then as he rubbed his hand down your side and you stilled again. “Or have you forgotten your own name, dear, while that poor liver of yours cries out from abuse?”

The moonlight highlighted his entertained expression as his lips pulled back from his teeth again. His hand had moved up to your throat as he gripped it in his continued pleasure.

He watched as your breasts rose and fell a little harder with those deeper breaths your body was then forced to take as he gradually restricted your airway.

It made his cock twitch so well inside of you.

“Forget your name anyway.” Doflamingo growled as he felt himself nearing that edge of climax when you finally coughed beneath his ever tightening hand. He was beginning to choke you, and it only made him want more of that feeling. “Because you’re a Donquixote now.”

Or at least the property of one as he felt your own hand then move to close on his larger wrist weakly.

Your body was too drunk to stop him, but that reflex of self preservation still flickered up in you all the same.

Doflamingo moaned loudly too as he saw your eyes reopen, half lidded to look at him in that new, pitiful way.

That helpless look is what did send him over the edge. As you tried and failed to breathe in his grip, he only bucked his hips that much harder as he spilled himself out into you yet again.

This is what it meant to truly own you.

——————————— 

“She hasn’t called?” Aokiji asked as he’d entered the other admiral’s office without warning.

But Kizaru looked unbothered as usual even at the surprise visit, just glancing up from a report that Sentomaru had sent in.

“Well…hello to you too. You’ve been off base quite a while.” He did comment though, watching Aokiji through those amber tinted glasses. “We were starting to think you may have gone rogue actually.”

It was said so calmly, but with just that hint of a smirk. “Sengoku wouldn’t have liked that.”

“I went patrolling on my own for a few days. That’s nothing new.” Aokiji frowned, and not taking a seat as he continued to stand. “But did Captain (Y/N) call today? Akainu’s got the Fleet Admiral in a meeting, and no one else seems to know.”

Kizaru shrugged. “I haven’t talked to her.” He looked back to his paperwork, but with noticeable disinterest in it now. “Why don’t you just call her yourself if it’s really become that distracting to you?”

But the resulting silence did make Kizaru finally look up again. That slight amusement was clearer on his face now. “Oh? Are you afraid to call her?”

Aokiji’s arms were crossed, his whole demeanor looking incredibly stern. “This isn’t about me. So get that stupid look off of your face.”

Wasn’t this his normal face? Kizaru thought to himself. Regardless, he didn’t seem insulted. “Hmm. Think you might say something unprofessional if you did call?” He mused to only add to this instead. “I guess that could be embarrassing for someone of our rank.”

And a cold palm did slam down onto the desk then. Aokiji could hold back much longer usually. But that cool composure was seemingly less and less lately. Especially when it came to the subject of you.

“Enough. I’ve told you so many times…” The ice admiral still warned.

Yet Kizaru barely reacted to that flare of temper, just glancing to the now frost covered hand and then back up into the frustrated eyes of its owner.

“Yeah? …You think you’ll just endanger her if you make any obvious fuss, don’t you? Doflamingo is quite an unstable man. But how many years have we known each other now? I’d say you’ve already made your move if I was to bet.” Kizaru nearly smirked again. “Where have you really been these past few days?”

“You’re no help at all. As usual.” Aokiji grumbled, just stepping back from the desk at the accusation.

He didn’t deny this either.

But Kizaru simply watched him, rather expressionless once more. “Did you ask for my help? I don’t recall that happening.”

Aokiji’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at him. “You’d be in Akainu’s ear in a heartbeat if I did.”

“And so what? We’re all comrades in arms…aren’t we?” Finally there was that minuscule trace of a frown on Kizaru’s lips. 

They were supposed to work together.

But that look of disappointment was just for a moment before he set his pen down and grabbed the receiver from off of the large transponder snail on his desk.

Aokiji’s eyes widened slightly at this movement, surprised and untrusting as Kizaru leaned back in his chair while the operator connected.

“Yes, admiral?” HQ’s switchboard girl answered kindly.

“Hello, Miss,” He said with a new, slight smile. “I need you to ring someone for me.”

“Of course, admiral. Who do you want me to connect you to?”

“Pull the warlord numbers if you please. I want Donquixote Doflamingo’s most direct line.”

There was just the briefest pause there too. Her voice changing a little. “The Fleet Admiral has put a restriction on that line, sir. No non-emergency calls. Is this considered an emergency?”

“Sure.” Kizaru was patient as anything, almost relaxing in his chair. “Let’s say it’s an emergency.”

“Yes, sir. Then I’m connecting you now.” Her nervousness gave way to dutiful obedience quickly enough as there was a click followed by momentary silence.

“The hell are you doing!?” Aokiji snapped at him in that brief delay before the line began to trill in new ringing. 

Kizaru looked back up at him, unfazed.

The phone continued to ring.

“It’d be pretty late in Dressrosa right now wouldn’t it?” Kizaru just thought out loud instead of giving a proper answer, glancing at the multiple clocks across his wall which denoted the different times across  the seas.

But Aokiji was not amused at all, starting to reach to hang up that transponder snail himself before a loud click had both admirals pause.

“This better be good.” Came the noticeably sleep hazed voice. A sharpness to it already though, with that transponder snail scowling up at them now.

“Oh…did I interrupt your beauty rest, pirate?” Kizaru responded, watching that snail as Aokiji went fully silent. “This is Kizaru.” He then identified himself simply.

There was a moment of hesitation and maybe even a bit of surprise on the other end of the line as the snail paused. But the warlord’s acceptance didn’t take long. Because there weren’t many men that would have been so casual as this with him. And those that would, didn’t sound like that.

“Heh. To what do I owe this pleasure then?” Doflamingo did recover quickly, dark voice sounding more interested now.

“I’m calling from HQ.” Kizaru drawled. “Seems our captain that you appointed to your island recently hasn’t reported in to us today. And you wouldn’t have had anything to do with that little lapse in her communication, now would you?”

The implied threat didn’t even have to be overt. It was well enough for any of the three navy admirals to take a personal interest in anything like this of course.

And this would now be the second admiral to do so in your name if the rumors of Aokiji’s previous visit to Doflamingo’s house in Sabaody were to be believed.

And Kizaru did believe it.

What he was surprised by was that it hadn’t been enough. 

A pirate that didn’t have the sense to back down for even an admiral.

It was a problem.

And the snail had quieted for another moment, its serious expression seeming to consider the weight of this new questioning from the admiral.

But Kizaru was exactly correct. Doflamingo understood the threat.

Doflamingo chose not to heed it.

Because the snail smiled then, wide and cruel as the warlord’s decision was made.

“Well…it is late. But if you insist, then why don’t you ask her yourself, admiral? It really has nothing to do with me.” Doflamingo replied with an all new goading.

And there was a sound of a bed creaking. 

The warlord’s voice became slightly quieter as he’d moved away from the receiver.

“Captain…hey.” It almost sounded gentle. But that snail was still grinning, Doflamingo’s dark voice still close enough for his real expression to be picked up. That smug pride radiating even as the intentional softness continued. “No…you need to wake up. You’ve got a colleague on the line…come here.”

The two admirals stared at that snail.

“…what?” A confused female voice finally protested.

“The phone, darling. It’s your work. Already not respecting your off duty hours at all it seems…”

The temperature now plummeted in Kizaru’s office at that vulnerable sound of you, as well as the full implications of what this truly meant.

But Kizaru cut in before Aokiji could. Even as both admirals’ breaths were then coming in trails of vapor within the room.

“Captain.” Kizaru said louder and firmer than he ever normally would to you.

And you heard it. Also recognizing his voice that you’d heard far more times than any warlord ever would.

There was more noise of the snail moving then. Like you were now picking it up from off of the bed. “…Admiral?” You asked in delayed surprise.

But there was more to it than that. You didn’t sound right, even in just these couple of words.

“Yes. Checking in, Captain. You didn’t give your status to anyone today.” Kizaru answered.

“I…” You tried. “There was…” Yes, they could fully tell now. You were trying so hard, but slurring every brief word none the less.

You were fully drunk. 

And you finally gave up, starting to actually plead in that humiliation of being ambushed in this way. “I…I’m fine. But I can’t…debrief right now. Sir…I’m…I’m sorry…”

The snail trembled, its eyes heartbreakingly defeated.

It was worse than any of them had ever thought then.

This was not the woman they knew.

Aokiji was about to snap. And Kizaru considered transmitting himself towards Sengoku’s office here and now.

But their shared enemy still most running this show wasn’t ceding his spotlight yet either.

“Admiral.” Doflamingo’s voice came back, shamelessly calm in contrast to your now evident emotions. “The Captain can speak with you later. I’m sure you’d agree that there’s nothing wrong with a little over indulgence when off the clock…we’ve all been there.” 

And he even made a noise as if he was comforting you beside him. Hushing you with a mimicry of affection before he spoke again. “…I’ll try to have her touch base with you tomorrow if we have time. Once she’s sobered up of course.”

Yet that snail also showed its teeth again before it was done. The harsher expression forming which didn’t match that measured tone at all.

“But tomorrow we’ll be very busy as well. Some news will be coming out, and her work for Dressrosa will be taking priority. The mission always comes first, correct? And she is one of your most dedicated.”

The snail’s tongue moved across those teeth. One final jab then added like a garnish on the heap of bullshit already being presented.

“This king is certainly glad to have her services at least.”

And Kizaru was forced to make a choice. 

He disappeared in a flash of yellow light, taking the snail with him as Aokiji had reached for it to speak.

No one could match Kizaru’s speed. And Aokiji had then turned, the purest rage within those dark eyes as Kizaru now stood all the way out in the hallway, holding that snail.

It was already back asleep as Kizaru had disconnected the call even before he’d moved.

“I’ll kill him.” Aokiji breathed, ice having already overtaken half of his face.

Kizaru was initially silent. His eyes had narrowed as well behind his glasses.

But then he spoke to his peer, blunt and sure. “They’d order me and Sakazuki to erase you for treason, brother. And that wouldn’t help anybody. Now would it?”

Aokiji gave him a look of disgust. Words seemed pointless by now. They both knew how wrong this was.

Yet Kizaru did begin walking back to him. A show of continued trust really. Because they were not enemies.

“Whatever you already did…” Kizaru started. “Is that going to help her?”

Aokiji’s shoulders sank ever so slightly, but his ice did not recede.

“Temporarily…but I came back here to do the rest of it. I am going to get her off of Dressrosa. No matter what that takes.”

——————————

Borsalino had actually hung up on him. The least passionate of all three admirals, and Doflamingo was certain he’d still gotten under that man’s skin.

Were you really that important to all of them then? Doflamingo’s own ego was happy to believe that you were.

Because it made you feel even more hard won if so. His marine treasure, stolen straight from the top and now further slipping through the hands of even the world’s greatest soldiers.

And how interesting that they didn’t seem to know about your public betrothal yet. Kizaru was a hard one to judge though. He hadn’t mentioned it at least.

Hopefully this really did mean that there were no marine spies left on Dressrosa to call and tattle to HQ. None outside of the toys working in his underground port anyway.

And he’d taken your own phone away immediately after the incident with Crocodile. You’d only been allowed to make calls right in front of him now.

Morgans’ reporters were likely playing things close to the vest too, to not share anything until those newspapers went to press. They wanted the first and only scoop for tomorrow’s worldwide release.

But there was nothing Sengoku could possibly do to reverse this either once he would find out. You were still a marine, just as Doflamingo had promised he’d let you remain. But you were also now his wife, with all of the added immunity that provided for you.

You couldn’t be fired, or even demoted. Not unless Doflamingo wanted you to be.

The five old men on the Red Line had reluctantly agreed to this in his stipulations. No doubt just humoring the traitorous brat that they still thought he was.

If they believed he was distracted, it made their lives easier. Less trouble he could cause for them.

Perhaps you’d actually thank him some day though. He was a generous master after all. Pulling his strings all the way from heaven to hell in this whirlwind of a love affair with you.

But tonight you were still too upset. Still too close to it all to realize how lucky you actually were to have his attention this deeply.

Your head was on his chest once more as he rubbed your back idly in the dark.

He could feel that dampness against his bare skin. Your silent tears as you surely thought your career was now dead and gone.

You were crying yourself back to sleep like the pitiful, broken thing you still were.

But he didn’t mind. 

Doflamingo kissed the top of your head as that new whim overcame him.

You were his responsibility now.

His prize and his companion to defend. 

Dawn would come again tomorrow, and with it the world’s reactions to what he’d done to you. But he welcomed that challenge and whatever new enemies it would bring him.

Because he’d bury them all like the good mate he was. He would protect you. This was his nest and his woman. 

He nuzzled his face back down against your hair. Hiding his scarred eye as the other eye watched the room for a bit longer before also drifting closed.

Your arms were tight around him. It felt right. But even in all his intense possessiveness that this inspired, there was something else so wholly new as well.

He felt safe.

He felt needed.

Until death do you part indeed. As that would be the only possible way for anyone to ever carve you from him now.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[dreamsofbroflovski]

Leopold "Butters" Stotch x Reader - sweet escape

Also available on ao3!

Summary: When you and your darling boyfriend break up, Eric Cartman's inner cupid decides to make sure you two get back together... By fucking your way right out of that argument.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (EVERYONE INVOLVED IS ABOVE THE AGE OF CONSENT), Explicit Language, Cisgender female Reader, Aphrodisiacs, Nipple Play, Nipple Orgasm, Penis In Vagina Sex, Bathroom Sex, Creampie

A/N: I've had this in my Docs for almost 2 months now, and never got to properly finish it. Then yesterday I went berserk and stayed until 4am writing and cleaning up the draft so I could have it up by today.

We have an utter drought of Butters x Reader smut in this fandom, so I hope I did our sweet guy justice.

Obligatory "English is not my first language, if anything sounds like total nonsense it probably is so please let me know" This is also my first fic after whole years without writing anything creative and my first smut work in general and IDK how to feel about it

It was your average Monday morning in Park County. People from all walks of life had frowns on their faces as they made their way to school or work, missing the protection of their warm blankets and the peacefulness of a deep sleep. In your high school, most of the students hung about in the hallways as they waited for classes to start, and the cliques standing around together provided some warmth for its members, both emotionally and physically.

At the end of one of the corridors, in one of the staircases, hung out a particular group of young men, lazing around and chatting about their weekend like everyone else. Some of them stood, leaning on the wall or the handrail, while others sat on the steps, basically creating a barricade against anyone who wanted to go up or down the stairs - not that many people tried, anyway; over the course of their high school days all the way to the current senior year, the South Park boys had kind of made that particular part of the stairs their hangout spot, and the other students really just preferred to take any necessary detours than have to deal with the certified biggest assholes in the whole school.

As they began to engage in yet another heated debate over some useless topic, almost none of them saw a certain blonde man arrive. This was not abnormal - most people were never paying attention to Butters, unless they needed him for a favor. What was abnormal, however, was the expression he carried. Butters was a normally friendly and peaceful person, always with a smile on his face even in the most inhospitable of days; to see him like he was now, walking with heavy steps like a soldier, his face down and gaze fixed on his own feet, it didn’t take much from anyone to see that he was not doing well. 

“Hey there, fellas.” He spoke in an unusually low voice, not looking up for even a second to acknowledge his peers. Almost all the other boys responded with a quiet Hey or a quick movement of the head, but he didn’t acknowledge either of those greetings, too engulfed in his own feelings.

“Oh, hey, Butters, there you are.” Cartman said, looking briefly at his direction but almost seeing past him, clearly not realizing what was amiss - Eric couldn’t care about someone else’s feelings to save his life. “Thank God you’re here, I have to talk to you about something later and it’s really important, if you didn’t show up it would’ve really fucked me over. You’re really gonna have to make up to me later for that. We’ll go over what you can do during lunch, so tell your bitch to - hey, where’s your bitch, anyway?”

“I DON’T KNOW, I DON’T CARE, AND IF ANY OF YOU DO THEN YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELVES!” was Butters’ immediate answer, in such a thundering angry tone that it made the whole group flinch in fear. This was the first moment he actually looked at his so-called friends that Monday, and his face was one of pure fury. “And if YOU-” he turned in his heels to face Cartman, pointing a finger at his face, “-think I’m going to be a part of whatever fucking evil deeds you have planned right now, then you better sit that fat ass of yours down, because I ain’t helping you anymore, got it?” He turned again to glare at the rest of the guys, who all had wide eyes. “Or any of you bitches either! I’m done with you jerks! DONE!”

“Dude, dude, calm down, it’s okay-” Kyle was the one to first try and appease the situation, seeing as everyone else was too afraid to make a movement. He tried to reach an arm out to Butters, but it was promptly slapped out of his reach by the latter.

“IT’S NOT FUCKING OKAY! Everyone hates you, y’all fucking hate each other, and then you sit around here and pretend to be best friends! Oh, but y’all won’t say anything because if you do y’all gon’ have to hang around with fucking Kip Drordy ‘till graduation! And I’ll tell you what else-”

He eventually became engulfed by his own rage, breathing rapidly as he looked around for anything else he could say his truth about.

“Easy there, buddy. Look, I haven’t had breakfast yet, how about you and I go pick up a snack in one of the vending machines?” Kenny tapped on Butters’ shoulder, gesturing in the direction of the canteen.

“I don’t want no goddamn snack!” Butters yelled right in Kenny’s ear, but the latter didn’t even acknowledge the rudeness, being used to worse back at his house.

“Yes, you do. Now let’s go.”

The whole staircase group watched in silence as Kenny dragged Butters far away, and then all faces turned to Cartman.

“Great job there, fatass.” Kyle snarled, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck you, Kyle! What the hell did I do now?” Cartman raised his voice, pointing a finger in Kyle’s face, then signaling with his other hand towards the corridor through which Butters had just left. “He’s the one that started acting like a chick on her period! That’s got nothing to do with me!”

“You provoked him, dude! You know he’s sensitive about that shit these days!”

“Butters is always sensitive, dude! What is his problem NOW?”

The other boys looked at each other, unsure if Cartman’s behavior was legitimate. “You really don’t know what you did?” Kyle asked, almost a surprised tone in his voice, his eyebrows arched.

“No! If I’m going to be blamed for shit, at least tell me what it is!” Eric huffed, tired of the back-and-forth.

Kyle took a deep breath. “Butters and (Y/N) broke up this weekend.”

The news had Cartman legitimately shocked. “Really? Why didn’t he tell me?”

“But he did. He told all of us.” Stan picked up his phone and turned the screen towards Cartman, with the messages app open, and started scrolling up quickly with his free hand, which made it impossible for the other to be even able to read anything. “It’s all over the group chat, dude.”

“Oh, right. I didn’t read that shit, I was rushing the battle pass for the new Fortnite season.” Cartman waved his hand in dismissal and Stan put his phone back in his pocket.

“Then you can’t complain about not being informed of stuff as soon as it happens.”

“Alright, alright, my bad. But man, hope they get back together.”

Eric wasn’t really feeling bad about causing Butters to snap or worried about your romance out of care for his friend. More so, like everything else in his life, the fatass wanted you to sort your issues because that would bring him personal benefit. He needed your lover for something in the coming days, a very important plan he had been cooking, and that breakup could very well ruin it all.

When you and Butters first got together, Cartman thought this was the death of his most useful pawn, maybe he’d even have to spy on your relationship to make sure you wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience. To his surprise, the opposite turned out to be true - the already affable young man became even more docile, if that was even possible. He was also willing to do damn near anything if it meant your happiness, so the only thing Cartman ever had to do to get his help was make up some bullshit story about how that scheme was actually going to be great for your relationship and how you’d be so glad if Butters just assisted him with this one thing (despite said thing having nothing to do with you at all, and you normally not being aware of the stuff until it happened). Since the blonde was mad at you, that meant the usual strategies wouldn’t stick.

Whatever it was that was creating this rift between you two, it had to end fast.

“But why the hell did they break up, anyway?” Eric continued, hoping to gather more information that he could use to reverse the situation.

“You’d know if you read the group chat!”, three or four of the guys answered in unison.

“Hell, I don’t read the group chat either and even I know what happened”, said Craig. He wasn’t usually one to engage in his colleagues’ dumb fighting, so, since the most aloof person on Earth had an opinion on the subject, Cartman knew he’d been missing out.

“You don’t read the group chat?!” Tweek yelped, looking at Craig with a panicked expression on his face - even more panicked than the one he had at any given time. “ACK!- You gotta read it, babe! What if one of us gets injured, dies, and you never find out because you didn’t read the group chat? What if EVERYONE dies and our last wishes are all in the group chat? UGH!”

He then seemingly got really scared of this hypothetical situation he himself created, proceeding to hyperventilate and tremble on the spot.

“I don’t read them because you do, babe. Then you tell me everything. Your texts are the only ones I ever need to read.” 

Craig patted Tweek’s hair a few times and kissed him on the forehead after speaking, which seemed to calm down the anxious male, who let out a contented sigh as his lungs seemed to finally allow him to breathe properly again. Everyone else around rolled their eyes at this, and Jimmy, out of the couple’s line of sight, stuck his tongue out and made a gesture pointing down his throat as if going to vomit.

“What do you guys do when the girls are mad at you, though?” Kyle asked, looking across the group, focusing on no one in particular - Kyle was the only one there who never managed to be in a long-term relationship (his surreal bad luck with women was extremely good content for jokes around those parts), and wouldn’t have an answer to that particular question.

“I just fuck mine ‘till she’s stupid”, Clyde answered immediately, with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Jesus, Clyde!” Tolkien gawped at the man next to him. Even if they were used to that type of vulgar speech, hearing it early in the morning on a Monday was a less than ideal setup. “Didn’t your mom teach you some manners or something?”

“As a matter of fact, no. She couldn’t.” Clyde looked sad for a moment. “But it’s real, you guys. Whenever Bebe starts bitching my ear off about some nonsense, I just take her somewhere private and give it to her good. By the time we’re done, she can’t even remember what it was she wanted, so it’s a win.”

“She probably just drops the issue because she knows you’re too stupid to hold any kind of deep conversation with”, stated Craig, earning a chuckle from most of the guys.

“Hey! It’s not like you’re any kind of master communicator either, Mr. Don’t-Read-The-Group-Chat!” Clyde retorted, hitting Craig - and Tweek, by association - right where it hurted.

By then, Cartman had tuned out the voices of all the other guys, the gears in his mind turning furiously. Clyde, however much of an idiot he could be, had unironically given him the solution to his most pressing problem. 

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

Later on, at night, the only lights on in a particular suburban street were those in the kitchen of the Cartman household.

Eric had an old cookbook open in the counter in front of him, alongside an assortment of ingredients and kitchen utensils. The food laid out seemed like your average components for making cupcakes - sugar, eggs, flour, the works -, but, hidden in the middle of it all, camouflaging itself nicely with the vanilla extract in a way that one would really need to pay attention to realize, was a bottle containing an edible aphrodisiac concentrate - the wonders of same-day delivery allowed it to be dropped off at Cartman’s doorstep right that afternoon when he bought it in the morning. 

After being done with all the other ingredients in the bowl, following the instructions in the book to a tee - Cartman could fool around with many things, but food was not one of them -, Eric grabbed the tray with the liners he had set and transferred the mixture to them. After that, he picked up that one particular bottle, turning his attention to two specific tins closest to him in the tray, lined with red cases. The bottle had instructions in the back of it - thorough information about its content, advice about the amount that was to be used and general warnings -, but the cook was having none of that, instead dumping the liquid in the two tins until he felt satisfied. In his mind, the more effect it made, the easier for him.

When that was done, he carefully put the tray into the oven and moved on to other parts of the recipe.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

The next day, Eric Cartman was on a mission. Along with the usual backpack, he carried with him to school a small box that smelled faintly of vanilla. The cupcakes had turned out really dang nice, if he could say so himself, and now it was time to pacify a certain pair of lovebirds.

After going to the usual staircase, he was surprised to find that his target, the only one of those assholes he cared to see today, was not around - but it wasn’t without reason; ever since his outburst yesterday, most of the other guys had decided to leave Butters alone with his anger until the issue was resolved, so he got warned to take his sulking elsewhere because it was bringing everyone down. As soon as he found that out, Eric turned on his heels and continued through the hallways, leaving his other colleagues very confused.

Making his way to Butters’ locker, he found the blonde male unaccompanied, mumbling some nonsense as he picked up everything he needed for the upcoming classes.

“Butters! Hey, buddy.” Cartman approached him with a smile.

“Fuck off, Eric!” Butters slammed the door to his locker, startling everyone who dared to be around him.

“Woah, calm down dude, I just wanted to give you this.” Cartman opened the box in his hands and carefully picked one of the cupcakes that had the red liner, handing it to his infuriated friend. “Might make you feel a little better.”

“Oh- huh- Really? Thanks.” Butters seemed genuinely surprised that someone, no matter who, was being nice to him. He picked up the cupcake, taking a bite out of it right away and getting some of the whipped cream on the side of his mouth. “That’s awfully nice of ya. You’re a good person, ya know, Eric. UNLIKE SOMEONE I KNOW!” He said that last part too loud, facing the corridor, as if he expected you to be around so you could hear all about how much he hated you right now. Unfortunately, you were nowhere to be found - instead, he yelled that stuff right while a group of young freshman girls happened to be passing through, laughing about something. They jumped in fear, looking at him like he was a maniac, and quickened their steps to leave as soon as possible while whispering to each other.

“Yeah, yeah, Butters, I know, I’m amazing” Eric replied, absent-mindedly, setting his sights on the end of the corridor, planning his escape route. “Look, man, I gotta go, see you in class or whatever.” Not even saying a word more than the absolutely necessary, he left Butters’ side as well, this time looking for his next objective.

Luckily, he didn’t take too long to find it as well. Right as he turned the corner, you stood next to another set of lockers, next to Red and Wendy. As they talked eagerly about something, though, you kept to your silence, also dwelling on your fight with your ex-boyfriend. You just weren’t trying to make your anger everyone else’s problem was all, but the other girls knew better than to talk about it near you or ask you questions, lest a wrong word also have you snapping.

Cartman beelined to your group, and as you all saw him coming up, the happy chatter immediately turned into silence. “Hello, ladies”, he spoke, earning a raised eyebrow from you and a questionable stare from the two other girls. “Might I interest you in some cupcakes?”

Before anyone could answer, he opened the box in his hands again, carefully picking a cupcake and handing it to every member in your trio, making sure to give you the one with the red wrap. He had made sure to bring extra cupcakes just in case anyone else in the class might see him with them or ask about it, since just giving sweet treats to you and Butters and no one else would look extremely suspicious. The red liners were to separate the laced cupcakes from the others, so he wouldn’t give them to anyone else unknowingly, and among the colorful liners in the others, no one could see you and your ex getting the same color as nothing but a funny coincidence.

As he closed the box, though, you didn’t make a single movement, still staring at him with the baked good in your hands. “No need to thank me, you know. Aren’t you going to eat it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.

Your eyes narrowed at him. “You put your dick in this thing, didn’t you?” was the question that came out of your mouth. Red let out an “Ewwwww”.

“NO! Why would you think that?” He gasped, his eyes widening in surprise, like it was an absurd thing to even think about - even though it was definitely something he was capable of doing and everyone knew that. “Who do you think I am, some kind of psychopath?”

“Yes.” Your eyes went from him to the cupcake, turning it around in your hand, analyzing it for any obvious signs of tampering. “Farted on it? Put cum on the whipped cream? Is my mom dead on the filling?”

“No, no and NO! Christ, you do something once and all of a sudden it’s all people ever talk about.” He didn’t actually expect you to start asking so many questions - who questions free food? -, so he hadn’t taken the time to build up an actual excuse. “I just had too much batter and made a few extra to bring to class, can’t a guy just be nice anymore?”

 You waited a little bit more to see if he’d say anything, if he’d give away any evil plans. Unable to figure out anything, you took the leap of faith, getting the cupcake near your mouth and slowly taking a bite of it. The taste that your tongue could pick up - plain vanilla, whipped cream, a little bit of chocolate from the sprinkles on top - was good, but nothing out of the ordinary. Well, you weren’t expecting Cartman to be some kind of superb baker, and there wasn’t anything that struck you as odd, so you continued eating. Seeing this, the girls around you followed suit with eating theirs, since if you couldn’t find anything wrong with it they probably wouldn’t either.

“See? Pretty good, isn’t it? Anyway, I’m gonna go and give the rest away, bye.” He left before you could interrogate him any further.

“What a weirdo”, stated Red. Before you could dwell on the subject more, Wendy warned both of you about the time, and your trio started making your way to class.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

For the next couple of hours, Butters felt like he was about to die.

His whole body felt hot, to the point where he was building up a slight sweat. During this time of the year and up in the mountains, this concept felt absurd, so when he asked the classmates around him to see if anyone else felt the same way, he was met with confused stares and Kenny putting the back of his hand on Butters’ forehead to check his temperature. He was warm alright, but he could tell this wasn’t a fever because this particular warmth felt more intense in the lower part of his belly, irradiating through his body.

The worst part that came with it, though, was the hard-on. It had popped up about an hour into classes, throbbing like crazy, refusing to go down and urging him to take action. He thought about asking for the hall pass to go to the bathroom and masturbate, but decided against it - because that would mean getting up in front of the whole class and standing there where everyone could see him. At this point, after so long, it all started to feel really painful, so he resorted to just curling onto himself on the chair as best as he could, waiting for the bell to ring so he could leave without drawing too much attention.

All the way across the class, you weren’t faring too well, either - just way better at hiding it. Some strands of your hair were glued to your forehead from the sweat, and you fanned yourself with an old crumbled assignment you found in the bottom of your bag. Under your table where no one could see, you pressed your thighs against each other, rubbing them together as silently as possible to create even the tiniest bit of friction to relieve yourself. As much as you did, it wasn’t nearly enough.

During this whole ordeal, you and Butters would look across the room towards each other regularly - even though you were mad at each other, you were the only person he could think about at a time like this, and vice versa. Every once in a while, your gazes would cross, both with completely panicked stares. Oh what you’d give to know what he was thinking at those times. But then, either you or him would realize the other was staring, and you’d immediately turn to the blackboard and pretend you were staring at it the whole time.

The bell ringing to announce lunchtime couldn’t have come soon enough.

“Alright class, off to lunch, we’ll-” The teacher started her usual speech to send all of you off, but before she could finish, Butters got up from his desk and bolted out of the door in extreme hurry, the speed with which he left being so intense that it knocked his whole desk back as he left and all his belongings scattered to the ground. “- Oh, I guess someone’s really into Taco Tuesday.”

As everyone got up to leave for the canteen, you thought about making a quick detour to the bathroom, maybe you could sneak in a little DJing session in one of the stalls, if you kept your quiet, just enough to get yourself through the rest of the day. Before you could make your way there, however, your girl friends made a whole group around your desk, and you had yourself cornered. If you wanted to leave anywhere, they were absolutely going to follow, so you begrudgingly walked to lunch alongside them, still trying to keep your legs as close to each other as possible. You weren’t sure if you’d even survive the rest of the day at this rate.

You hoped that lunch time and the interactions that came with it could make you distracted unlike the quiet classroom, but you were deprived of that as well. No matter how much you tried to pay attention to the conversations the girls were having around you at the table, the heat in your lower abdomen was too strong to ignore, and your thoughts always went straight back to poundtown at any given chance. More than once you had hands waved and fingers snapped near your face because someone asked you a question and you didn’t realize it. 

Also, having scanned around the room with your eyes more than a couple of times like a turret looking for a target, you couldn’t find Butters anywhere in the canteen. You wanted anything from him, even his angry looks at this point were enough to get you going - your mind got busy drawing up all those detailed scenarios where he pinned you to the table, choked you, slapped your ass, pulled your hair, all that while pounding into you violently and calling you filthy names that you never thought you’d hear from his mouth, but that made sense in your anger. 

But he wasn’t there, and you had honestly started to worry. The way he left class earlier had you wondering, who was he hanging out with that made him leave in such a hurry? Was he with some other girl? You usually trusted Butters a lot, he worshipped the ground you walked on and never gave you any reason to doubt his loyalty, but now that you had broken up, God knows what kind of shenanigans he could be up to. You certainly didn’t want to imagine the worst; not only because of the implication of betrayal on his end and the idea that he could already be loving someone else so soon, but also because it would mean he was getting a bunch of action while you couldn’t even masturbate.

“Earth to (Y/N)!” You were once again thrown out of your train of thought by Wendy Testaburger, snapping her fingers close to your ear to draw your attention once more. 

“Wait, what was it again?”, you answered, looking around with your eyes focused on the peers closest to you. All the other girls at the table were staring back, some with anger in their eyes, some with concern.

“Ugh, nevermind. I’ll text you later, since you’re too good to listen to us today.” She made a dismissing motion with her hand. “The bell’s about to ring. Let’s head back.”

As your whole group got up to leave, you looked around the considerably less crowded cafeteria one more time, hoping to catch your ex lingering around, maybe he just came late for lunch? But unfortunately, he was God knows where still. You were expecting to catch some sights of him in class again, but that was unideal - the setting there was one of silence and concentration, two things that you had no intention of keeping up with.

You didn’t have to wait until then to see him, though. As soon as your group opened the cafeteria doors, he was waiting right on the other side of it, just waiting for you to leave for the hall. Coming up from your side, he pulled on the sleeve of your blouse to draw your attention. “Canitalktoyouplease?” was the sentence that left his mouth, almost too quick and slurred for you to catch.

“Huh?”

You turned to face him and the sight was almost absurd. Butters was usually well kept, his parents weren’t going to let him get out of the house looking less than presentable, but right now he was a whole mess. His hair was all shagged up and he was panting like he had just ran a marathon. The hairs closest to his forehead were wet and some droplets of transparent liquid were around it - could be sweat, the same problem you had, or he might’ve thrown some water on his face to cool himself down (which was also a great idea). He also had his jacket tied to his waist, which was weird considering it wasn’t hot this time of the year and he had been wearing it earlier. Did he spend the whole lunch period running track?

“Can- Can I talk to you, please?” He repeated more slowly this time, gripping your arm tight and making you wince from pain. He wasn’t aware of his own strength right now. Seeing the look on your face, he quickly removed his hand from your arm, but stayed still waiting for your answer.

“She doesn’t wanna talk right now, asshole!” Before you could even say anything, Red yelled out, moving right next to you and locking her arm on yours, to show him that you weren’t alone. “And it’s almost time for class anyway. Fuck off.” 

You loved Red McArthur, you really did. That was one of your best friends right there. You didn’t regret at all having told her everything about your fight with Butters, were extremely grateful for the support she had shown you throughout, and you’d surely be glad for her intervention in any other situation. However, she was the one that should be thankful right now - thankful that the knives in the school cafeteria were dull, otherwise you’d have picked up one and stabbed her on the spot. You and your ex were still in a rift, sure, but he was the person you wanted to talk to the most right now and she was denying you that. Even if unknowingly, she was currently being the ultimate cockblocker, or pussy-blocker?

You took a deep breath, something that the other girls probably took as an attempt to dial down your anger at Butters, but that was in reality so you wouldn’t yell at your best friend in front of everyone else. “It’s alright, Red. Go on without me, we won’t take long.” You spoke as calmly as you could, waving them away with your hand and taking your arm away from hers.

As soon as you did so, Butters took you by the wrist and started to power walk in a completely different direction from everyone else, and you had a hard time matching his footsteps while trying not to bump into the groups of students everywhere. You wondered where the hell he was even taking you in such a hurry. For a while, he also seemed confused - he looked towards every door as you went, as if searching for something himself -, but then he made a decision, taking you up two sets of stairs to the third floor of the school building, where he surprised you again by pulling you inside the handicapped restroom.

Unlike the other toilets in the school, the ones reserved for handicapped people were single-user, and since there weren’t many disabled students that were willing to go all the way to the third floor to pee, this one was actually always seen to be in great condition. It was quite spacious to make it easy to maneuver wheelchairs, and also away from many of the actual occupied classrooms. Whatever it was that Butters wanted to discuss with you, he clearly didn’t want anyone else listening.

While he turned to lock the door, you took a few small steps towards the other side of the restroom, standing in the middle of it. You crossed your arms and straightened your posture, trying to look as stiff and unsympathetic as possible. Maybe it was overkill, you had agreed to be here so that already sent the message that you were at least willing to listen, but you didn’t want him to think for a second that he still had your heart on a chokehold like he did.

He took a deep breath as he turned to face you, as if trying to collect his thoughts. “Look, I know you’re mad at me and I’m mad at you and you prolly don’t wanna see me none, but I have no one else to turn to! I need your help!” He blurted out, his arms in front of him like he was ready to push you back if you were to become aggressive.

You frowned. “YOU need MY help? With what?” 

“I… I can’t say it, okay?” He was fighting with his thoughts now, knowing that he’d need to speak up, but couldn’t bring himself to. “It’s a heck of a thing and I can’t really explain it and I don’t even know if it can be explained-”

“Stop with the rambling!” You stomped your foot on the ground to alert him. “Either you tell me what this is about or I’m leaving!”

At this moment, he averted his eyes to the ground, avoiding your gaze as if that would conceal his feelings of absolute shame. His hands moved to his waist, untying his jacket and letting it fall to the floor, and the reason why he wasn’t wearing it immediately became clear - he had a noticeable tent in the front of his pants, which the sleeves of the jacket previously hung in front of, covering the view. 

As soon as you saw, it took you every little bit of restraint you had not to immediately drop to your knees, free his dick of its confinements and take it in your mouth to suck him dry. You felt your saliva building up, ready to make it as sloppy as possible too. But it would mean a complete lack of self-respect on your part to give in without at least him properly asking for it (you could faintly hear the voice of Red in your head scolding you for that), and you also needed to negotiate your own release, so you just swallowed it all back and waited as he built up the courage to continue talking.

“I tried jacking off in the stalls, watching porn on my phone, heck, even meditating to make it go away… It’s not enough. Nothing is. I NEED YOU.” He grabbed both your wrists with his hands and stared deep into your eyes as he pleaded. “I’ll do anything you want if you help me. If you never wanna see me again, I’ll leave! Forever! Just please help me! I can’t stand this anymore!”

You were far from wanting him to leave forever, not when he begged like this, looking like a hungry lost puppy. The poor man was so overwhelmed by his own arousal that he couldn’t notice the fact that you had taken a few steps towards him to close the distance between you instead of widening it. “Anything?” You murmured, to which he nodded vigorously. 

You wriggled your wrists out of his hold and took his hand in yours, guiding it towards your crotch. Your other hand quickly opened the buttons and zipper in your pants, and you pulled it down just a little, just barely halfway down your butt. The wetness between your legs had created a damp spot in your panties, and when you guided Butters’ hand to feel it, the mere brush of his hand over your extremely sensitive area was enough to make your breath hitch even through the fabric. He noticed it immediately, and you saw his eyes widen. “I believe we can help each other.”

He needed no more explanation, maybe due to fear that talking any longer would make you change your mind. So he quickly clashed his mouth onto yours, needy and desperate, wrapping both his arms around you with unusual strength - whatever it is that was driving him mad was also making him act differently than what you’re used to, but you were here for it. As you kissed him back, you felt his usually soft lips to be slightly raw - he had probably been biting them in his anxiety earlier. You didn’t have a second to dwell on it, though, because his tongue swiftly started to brush over yours, an invitation for a dance that you gladly accepted.

Still completely glued to your mouth, Butters started to take small steps, which made you walk backwards, all the way to the other side of the restroom. As your back touched the wall, you felt one of the horizontal metal grab rails under you. You shifted so more of your ass was on top of it, not completely seated (the bar was too narrow for it), but just giving you the extra support in case you needed it. The current position had you firm on your right foot, while the other hovered slightly above ground. Your legs being more open also allowed for Butters to get even closer with his hips, his erection so close to your pussy, separated only by the clothes you both wore.

In one swift motion, Butters hiked up both your blouse and your bra, not even caring about the back clasps, taking everything off and exposing your breasts to the slightly cold air of the restroom as well as to his hungry gaze. The latter wasn’t true for much long, though - he closed his eyes and dove immediately with his mouth to your left nipple, sucking on it and flicking the hardened bud with the tip of his tongue, while his right hand took care of the other breast, massaging it softly. Your nipples were already sensitive by nature, but right now they felt connected to all other nerves in your body, and the stimulation had you whimpering in pleasure.

Your lover started to alternate between one breast and the other with his mouth, giving both the same amount of love and attention - wherever his mouth wasn’t, one of his hands was sure to be, kneading the soft flesh and flicking your peaks slightly. The other hand would then be running around your chest, arms and belly, feeling your soft skin and making up for lost time. 

On your end, one of your hands grabbed hard on the metal rail below you, even if that wouldn’t do you much to make you stable. The other ran through Butters’ hair, caressing it - a type of caring behavior that almost felt out of place considering the borderline sinful thoughts you had all day and the situation you found yourself in right now, but that was doing wonders for him, since it made him even more eager to keep loving on your tits.

You could also feel his hips rutting towards plain air near you, as he tried to satiate his throbbing dick even a little bit. Not wanting to deny him any part of this experience when he was treating you so right, you moved one of your legs closer to him, putting your knee between his legs and allowing him to grind on your thigh. He took the offer immediately and responded by growling against your breast and sending some more shivers through your body with the vibrations.

The new stimulus had Butters going wild. He was getting more feral with his treatment of your body - taking your nipples between his fingers, tugging at them and twisting slightly. He started to graze your bud with his teeth, which soon turned into full-on love bites all across your nipples and breasts, the red patches not looking so jarring now that your whole skin was so flushed, but they’d certainly be a nice keepsake later.

When you started to feel that familiar tension in your muscles, the pleasure in your nipples spreading like a flame under your skin, it came as a surprise. You hadn’t ever climaxed from just him working your nipples before - hell, was that even possible? -, and it had sneaked up on you, first feeling like if lightning was gentle, an electric tingle all over your body that sparked like fireworks. Then there was no denying the well-known wave of pleasure that hit you like a tsunami, crashing your whole world around you and making your knees buckle. 

Sensing your loss of balance in front of him, Butters quickly let go of your breasts and wrapped his arms around your waist. You wouldn’t have fallen either way, catching yourself in the metal bar behind you with a firm grip, but the consideration was appreciated. As he looked at you with a worried expression and breathing through his mouth anxiously, you felt the walls of your pussy spasming again and more slick dripping in your panties. 

“You okay?” His eyes ran through your body, looking for anything that might be wrong, and coming up short. You were absolutely perfect as always.

“More than.” You purred with a smile, giving him a brief kiss. When your mouths parted ways, he tilted his head closer to yours ever so slightly, almost as if chasing your lips with his. Savoring his yearning, you pucker up your lips and make a kissing sound, before tugging at his shirt. “You’re gonna kill me like this though. Just let me feel you already.”

It was his time to smile. “Okay, honey”, he hummed, fixing his posture - and you closed your eyes happily, not having noted how much you missed him calling you pet names until now. He locked mouths with you again and his hands drifted down between you two, pulling further down the hem of your jeans and tracing your slit through the soaked panties, earning from you a sharp moan.

His mouth left yours so he could focus on ridding you of the rest of your outfit, and you held down on the grab rail with your other hand as he lifted your legs – first one, then the other so you could keep stability - to remove your shoes, pants and undergarments completely. You would’ve helped him to make the job quicker, but he seemed to be enjoying the ride now that he had you back in his embrace. Once he had fully taken everything off, he planted a quick kiss on the inside of your lifted thigh, making you shudder.

Slowly and carefully letting go of your leg, Butters took another look at your full body as you stood there naked for him. He wanted to kiss every inch of you, show you as much of his love as possible, but there was also this overpowering lust. Not wanting to spend another second more not touching you, he made quick work of his own pants and boxers while you grabbed onto his shirt and pulled it over his head, throwing it somewhere and allowing his bare chest to touch yours. You were both drenched in sweat at this point, and your naked bodies basically glued together like that, but in the haze none of that mattered.

Butters lifted your left leg up again and held your thigh firmly against his hip with his right arm, while his other hand stroked his shaft slowly as he moved to position it against your entrance. You felt your cunt clench tight as the head of his cock breached your folds, and you were sure he could feel it too, as his breath hitched and his eyes fluttered when you tried to look at them. “Need me that bad, huh?”, he murmured, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “I need you too, honey. Can’t be without you no more.”

With that, he thrusted into you in one swift motion - your surreal wetness making it easy for him to bottom out several inches deep inside of you, the familiar sting you felt as he stretched you being eased by how aroused you already were. The both of you moaned almost in unison at this very welcomed sensation, and in a moment of pseudo-clarity you remembered that you couldn’t be loud like this, a realization that did not seem to grace Butters as he started to push out and back into you with more fully open-mouthed moans. You quickly put one of your hands in the back of his head and push it towards the crook of your neck, where he starts to place quick but strong suckles and bites, not caring for - actually downright wanting - the marks they’d leave.

“Shh, honey” You whispered with the softest of voices, not wanting him to get discouraged, but still needing to give him a reminder. “Can’t get loud in here or they’ll catch us. Just do this for me, okay?” 

It was hard for you to heed your own warning, though - with each quick and hard slam of his hips, plus his assault on your neck, you wanted nothing more than to have him hear just how good he was doing. You settle for biting your own lip and keeping your moans in your mouth, which to him seemed to sound even hotter - as he sped up the pace of his thrusts with newfound energy, getting high on the sound of your muffled whimpers and the wet sound of his dick plunging inside your weeping cunt.

The force with which his hips struck your body had you sliding up and down against the wall, your tits bouncing with the movement. His hot breath on your neck made the fine hairs on your whole body stand up, and your back arched, which made him hit that sweet spot inside of you even more perfectly now. Needing to be closer, closer, you let your hands go from the grab rails where they had settled before and wrap your arms around Butters’ neck, relying on him like your last connection to the Earth now. You were glad he had enough strength to hold you with just the lower half of your body pinned to the cold bathroom tiles while still jackhammering into you.

As Butters raised his head from your neck to take a brief look at you through his half-lidded eyes, he used a lot of self-restraint to not cum on the spot. You were a whole mess: disheveled hair, face moist with sweat, a soft reddish tint spread through your whole body, but more prominent on your cheeks, nose, and breasts. You weren’t staring back at him, eyes tight shut as the feeling of his cock inside of you distracted you from using any of your other senses. He wanted to kiss your rosy puffy lips again, but wouldn’t risk disturbing the pretty noises that came out of your throat as you tried so hard to not let out the loud moans you wanted to. “Yeah, that’s it, baby... You’re so… good to me...” He laid his head back on the crook of your neck, but didn’t go back to biting - instead, he inhaled deeply, taking all of your scent in, your faint perfume that he loved mixed with your sweat and… a hint of vanilla? “Lemme make you… feel even better…” 

His last sentence slurred into nonsense, but in the blur you barely registered it. You also didn’t even notice how he sneaked his left hand between your bodies, coating his thumb with the splattered juices around your cunt before moving it up and rubbing quick circles in your clit, increasing your pleasure in an almost overwhelming way. You felt a sharp sting in your lip and a metallic taste - in your efforts to not make any noise, you had bitten your lip so hard it broke skin. The pain, however, was quickly overshadowed by Butters’ ministrations, and you slapped one of your hands over your mouth to silence yourself, leaning with your back against the wall again.

It wasn’t like any past fuck you ever had. Everything was heightened; You heard every slap of his skin against yours and all the little sharp breaths both of you took as you tried to avoid being too loud in your pleasure, you could feel every single vein in his cock squeezing through your tight walls, and you saw whole galaxies even through your closed eyes. 

As that coil inside of your belly was getting tighter and tighter, so were your walls against Butters’ cock - and you knew that had to be catching up to him, as he started to lose the pace on his thrusts, and the muscle in his arms and legs seemed to become even more tense. “‘m- I- can’t hold much longer like this, sweets!” It seemed almost impossible for him to get the words out, having to say them through quick breaths as he got close to his release himself. “You’re just… too good…”

Then there was no warning as he let out a loud growl and his hips hit your body with one final deep slam, and you felt his dick pulsating as he filled the deepest part of you with his hot seed. The thumb in his left hand, however, still flicked your clit viciously, and so it didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, your cunt gripping his throbbing dick as the pleasure washed over your body for a second time.

As both of you dissolved into each other’s bodies, you found it in yourself to take his face in your shaky hands and press his lips to yours once more. Unlike your previous kisses of today, though, this moment was much more kind and full of tenderness, feeling exactly like the ones you shared throughout your relationship with him. You both felt loved and cared for, and while that rough fuck session took care of the needs of your physical bodies, the kiss took care of your souls.

You only dared part your mouths this time when it became necessary to breathe, and both of you sported soft smiles after you did, tired, but happy. You started using one of your hands to brush back through your fingers the multiple small strands of hair glued to his forehead, while the other caressed his cheek. He leaned into your touch, resting his hands on your waist. His dick was softening, but he didn’t feel keen on pulling out just yet, relishing the closeness of your bodies like this.

“I love you, Leo.” You finally broke the ice after a couple of minutes like this, giving him a peck on the forehead, to draw his attention back to Earth.

“Geez, by now I sure hope so!” You couldn’t help but giggle at his ever present sincerity. “I love you too, (Y/N).”

As you smiled and took note of your actual environment for the first time in a while, an idea came to mind. “Wanna get away from here?” You already knew what his answer would be to this offer, but you wanted to make your intentions clear nonetheless. “We can find someplace else where we can make some real noise.”

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

You and Butters didn’t come back for the rest of classes, and nobody in school had an answer to where you were, either. All texts sent to you or him went unanswered for that day, and your friends had no idea what happened.

What they could certainly say they saw, though, was the pair of you arriving at school together the next morning with a pep in both your steps, chatting away and smiling as you held hands. Everyone was left speechless, and some even questioned if the last few days had even been real. 

The only person who didn’t seem confused was Eric Cartman, his nonchalant behavior earning him plenty of questioning from the other dudes the following days, but he refused to admit to anything. And why would he, anyway? You and his friend were back together, happy as could be, the sun was up in the sky, everything was right. And, if it ever stopped being that way, he had a certain tiny bottle in the back of his wardrobe to sort things out again.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[jjkamochoso]

Okay guys I screwed this up yesterday!! This was a request from @killuagirly and was originally an ask but I accidentally posted it unfinished instead of saving as a draft and had to delete it lol SO here's the request: "Another Feitan request! Feitan with a Female Reader who's dying to 'pretty him up'! He's already gorgeous as is of course, but wouldn't it be so fun to do a morning & nightly routine with him? If she's lucky, Feitan will let her paint his nails! He goes for black when she asks what color he'd like, but maybe with a little pink heart on each ring finger! He wouldn't mind that much, so long as the Troupe doesn't see of course. He'd never hear the end of it."

Here's my answer to the ask: I loved this so much😭❤️ thank you for always bringing me your Feitan ideas, I absolutely love writing for this man🥺❤️ I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!🫶

And finally, here's the fic:

Pretty in Portor

Fluff

Feitan Portor x f!reader

Warnings: slight mentions of violence

Feitan had no clue how he got so easily persuaded by you. It was like you put a spell on him or used some sort of crazy Nen technique to manipulate his actions. Of course, he knew that wasn’t the case—

He just really, really loved you.

That’s why he found himself in your room in the hideout of whatever city the Phantom Troupe had business in this time, wearing a fluffy headband pulling back his bangs while you applied a face mask to his pale skin. You already had your own on, sporting a fluffy headband matching his.

“Why you no ask Machi or Shizuku, even Pakunoda, to do this?”

“They’re not into this kind of stuff,” you whined.

“And I am?” he questioned, prompting you to jokingly swat at him. “You bring in water? I no going out to bathroom to wash off.”

“Of course. I’m not a monster,” you replied. “I won’t make you too uncomfortable as you so sweetly partake in my nightly routine with me.”

“Too late,” he grumbled, earning a gentle flick of the forehead.

After you both rinsed off the mask, you rummaged through your belongings to find the rest of your skincare items. You laid them out on the bed, all of the foreign labels piquing Feitan’s interest.

“What this?” he asked, picking up a small jar.

“I was just looking for that! Thank you,” you said as he handed it to you. “It’s exfoliation for your lips. It gets all the dead skin off and makes them smooth. You want some?”

“Looks sticky. Absolutely not.”

“Your loss.” You giggled mischievously before your voice gained a flirty tone. “You know, if you ever wanna kiss anyone, this is a great way to make sure your lips are smooth.”

Feitan glared at you mercilessly. “Don’t say stupid things.”

“Just a suggestion!” you exclaimed, putting your hands up in defense. You put some of the product on your lips and scrubbed with your finger, taking care to get your lips nice and soft. Feitan busied himself with looking at your array of items, thinking your words over and trying not to blush. His eyes trailed up, sneaking a glance at the way your finger ran over your now moisturized lips as his mind filled with what they might feel like against his own…

He quickly went back to his reading of ingredients on whatever bottle he picked up, trying to shake those thoughts out of his head. You were none the wiser of what he was thinking about, though you couldn’t help but notice that Feitan was a little too engrossed in the bottle of serum he was holding, especially after his not-so-subtle peek at you just a minute ago. You wondered if maybe that could mean he felt the same about you that you did about him? You hadn’t a clue and it didn’t help to ponder over questions you were sure you’d never have answers to, so you picked up a bottle of nail polish to forget your worries for the moment.

“You want your nails done too?” you asked.

“Only if you have black,” he snorted, figuring your girly, pink loving self wouldn’t be caught dead in black nail polish. To his horror, you procured a bottle of his color request and held it up.

“Perfect! I’ll do yours after I do mine.”

Feitan wanted to protest, but knew it was no use. He was a man of his word, after all, so he sat quietly, mindlessly flipping through a book he had brought into your room as you began to paint your nails.

“All done,” you had said after a few minutes. “Your turn!”

Feitan groaned but sat across from you anyway.

“Hand, please,” you told him. He held out his left hand first and you went to work, but not before he almost shivered at the skin-on-skin contact. When both hands were done, two coats of polish and one layer of lotion later, Feitan was impressed with the end result. He had to admit, he was a fan of the dark color contrasting against his skin.

“They look so pretty!” you gushed, fawning over the great job you did with his nails. You grasped his fingers and turned them every which way, inspecting them closely. They looked nice, sure, but they were missing something.

Your eyes lit up. “I know! I can paint a little heart on one of the nails.”

“Anatomical?” He smiled darkly. “Bloody?”

You screwed your nose up in disgust. “No, I was thinking something more like this.”

You picked up a small brush, used for creating tiny details, and dipped it into the pink polish bottle. You then carefully made a few strokes over each of his pinky nails, drawing a dainty heart on each one.

“There,” you said triumphantly. Feitan looked at his nails, confused at how he should feel. On one hand, it was sweet of you to include him in your hobbies and enthusiastically make him participate, but on the other hand, how could you not see how wildly ironic it was, painting cutesy hearts on the nails of a sadistic torturer? The same nails that were normally inflicting pain and misery, caked in blood and other bodily fluids, were now covered in nail polish and sweet smelling lotion, being treated with a tenderness he forgot he had craved for so long. Unfortunately, because there was a “no fighting your fellow Troupe members” rule, Feitan wouldn’t dare to walk out of your room with the nail art; he couldn’t bear the idea of being teased to no end and not being able to shut the person up with violence.

“Tch. Cover it with paint. I no need anyone seeing this.”

“Aww Fei, are you sure?” you pouted. “But you look adorable!”

“No want to look adorable when killing someone. That your job.”

You giggled as you opened the black polish bottle again while the man quickly looked away, trying to hide his sheepishness at the compliment he inadvertently gave you. Now that your last minute art additions were covered, it made it even more special to him. He loved knowing he had your heart, a little piece of you, hidden away in a place only he knew of.

“This is more your style anyway,” you said, smiling softly at his plain black nails. You were about to put the polish back in your bag but before you could do anything, Feitan stopped you.

“Wait. Sit.”

You obliged, curious to know what he was up to. Feitan himself seemed surprised that he spoke up, but nevertheless continued.

“Choose color and give me brush.”

Your stomach fluttered with excitement when you realized he was going to do some nail art on you as well.

“I’ll do black,” you said, “that way we’ll match each other.”

“Gross,” he muttered, feeling his cheeks warm as he studied your splayed out hands in front of him, not daring to peek at your gorgeous face in his flustered state. He busied himself with the brush, starting his art. You decided to wait until he was done before looking at your nails to keep it a surprise. Your eyelashes fluttered closed, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere. Feitan, now finished, was going to question why you hadn’t said anything yet but he looked up to see your shut eyes. You looked so peaceful that he wouldn’t be surprised if you were asleep. His gaze darted down to your lips, the skin softer than ever after your exfoliation, and he was so terribly tempted to kiss you. He stared you down, deathly still as he took this time to inspect all of your pretty facial features while he knew for sure you wouldn’t catch him doing so.

“Feitan,” you whispered, his skin erupting in goosebumps at the way you said his name, “are you all done?”

He wanted to say no, have you all to himself as he continued to commit your every fine line and curve of your expression to his memory, but as selfish of a man he was, he didn’t want to make you wait to see his work any longer.

“Open eyes.”

You did what he said, but instead of your nails, your vision was filled with the handsome face of the man you adored to no end.

“So pretty,” you breathed out, getting lost in his gray eyes.

“You haven’t seen nails yet, idiot,” he chided, wishing the acid in his stomach could dissolve the butterflies flying around in it.

“Hmm? Yeah, you’re right,” you replied, finally examining his artistry. You gasped with delight at what you saw. Feitan had drawn a skull, similar to the one on his cowl, on each of your ring fingers.

“They’re perfect! Feitan, I love it! Thank you!” you exclaimed. He was about to answer you but was dumbstruck when you planted a kiss at the corner of his lips before bringing him into a bone crushing hug.

“I’m just so excited! We look so good!” you continued, eventually pulling away from him with a big smile. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to show everyone!”

You ran off, your bunny slippers thumping against the hard floor. Feitan brought his polished fingers to his face where they rested against the spot you had just kissed, letting a lovestruck grin rest on his face.

Your lips were even softer than he dreamed of.

[raayllum]

Invert Life and Death Theory

Yesterday, the fandom received two season seven synopses that detail similar mysterious concepts:

The stakes have never been higher as Aaravos and Claudia are on the warpath, determined to destroy the Cosmic Order and invert life and death. With the world’s fate on the line, our heroes must be ready to sacrifice everything to save it.

As Aaravos and Claudia seek to destroy the Cosmic Order and invert life and death, our heroes must be literally ready to sacrifice anything and everything love and believe in to save the world!

I will touch on the 'sacrifice' portion likely here, and then further in another meta that was actually already sitting in my drafts about it (as we've known for a while that S7's main theme is sacrifice, even if I didn't expect it to be so blatantly spelled out in the summaries). But I digress.

Aaravos (and Claudia) want to destroy the Cosmic Order. They want to invert life and death, to turn it upside down (much like Aaravos' chest star I might imagine). Presumably this is to make the Cosmic Order mortal-mortal so that they can be permanently killed and Aaravos can have his proper revenge. He might also be working towards trying to reassemble Leola's spirit somehow.

But what is that attempted inversion going to look like? Well... It does contextualize the weird consistent emphasis his plans have had on the Moon and Sun specifically:

And we might finally know why:

Sun and Moon, Life and Death

In previous posts, I'd speculated there was more than just politics or revenge at stake in Aaravos seemingly killing Luna Tenebris and Queen Aditi 300 years ago. Of course the in-story explanation that's most obvious is that he wanted political instability, which I think is certainly true.

However, thus far there's not really a Reason in-text that it had to be those two. Why not another Earth dragon instead, or a Tidebound king? Throughout the series the elves that have gotten the most focus and worldbuilding have routinely been Moonshadow and Sunfire elves, and it didn't really have to be. And of course we could get into the weeds and say that Earth could've been associated with Life and Sun with death, etc etc. but the point stands that I think this series long focus on Moonshadow and Sunfire elves/philosophies in addition to Aditi and Luna Tenebris' deaths/disappearances makes a lot of sense if Sun = Life and Moon = Death, and these are the things that Aaravos wishes to invert upside down.

The fact that this reflective relationship between Sun and Moon possibly ties into Aaravos being in a mirror, characters having shadow selves running around in the narrative, and the emphasis on mirrored images in the dark magic dreams we see also makes sense.

Aaravos already toppled the Sun Forge and thereby Sun Primal on his way through to the Storm Spire. Going back to the Moon Nexus in S6 was a welcome callback to Through the Moon, but the Moon Nexus specifically having a portal between life and death... reminding us of that location because it's going to play a much bigger role next season (potentially like other characters, like Aanya) could be on the table. In taking Lux Aurea, Aaravos got the corrupted Sun staff after all.

Speaking of which, let's talk about

Rayla and Claudia

I don't think I have to explain why or routinely how Rayla is associated with the Moon as a Moonshadow elf. Secretive yet open, caught between love and duty, life and death, truth and lies, light and dark, Rayla embodies all this and more. Callum has also asked for her to be his Death if push comes to shove and he's possessed again, but she's also what has saved him in S6 from said threat of possession (and likely will again). This isn't to say that Aaravos needs a Moon arcanum and is going to take Rayla's (though I suppose he could), I think the likelier outcome is corrupting the Moon Nexus (and hence why you animate/rig Lujanne, Allen, and a new Phoe-Phoe design under your software at all). But it does mean I think Rayla will be a mirror to Claudia / whatever is happening with the Moon Nexus as a way to manipulate Callum, per usual.

Conversely, Claudia has wielded the corrupted Sun staff — a literally corrupted light that represents dark magic to her outright in S6, and one that she uses as a literal and metaphorical crutch — since season three, only occasionally using her father's staff with Viren only using the Sun staff for the Hearts of Cinder spell. She's a sun that's already been eclipsed by Aaravos, by death, in more ways than one. Someone who's walked a continually bloodier, darker path the further the show has gone on.

If and when Claudia gives up dark magic, she'll be 'restored' as the Sun — uncorrupted, bolstered by the truth ("Careful, if you tell the truth you will lose her"), shining brightly again. In the meantime, though, if Claudia is brought home in parallel with Callum being saved from dark magic corruption in S6, I think someone else will be Claudia's 'sun'. So let's talk about it.

Trials and Tests of Love

While we might see more — I could see Karim getting a trial on a technicality in S7 — as it stands now we see three former trials in the series. The first is in S4 among the Sunfire elves with Lucia, who ruined a sacred ritual by putting out a light, and is declared not innocent but worthy of life over death. Then we see Leola, who despite being truly innocent is condemned to death by the Star/First Elves and is made into nothing more than a light star known as Leola's Last Wish. Finally, we're going to seemingly have Rayla, whose actions did lead to the death of her troupe of Moonshadow assassins in the Silvergrove.

Just like with starlight vs moonlight vs sunlight with the Celestial elves, and Astrid + star magic creatures like Sir Sparklepuff in particular....

AARAVOS: Otherwise the sun will rise, and you will not.

We see this pattern of sun, star, and moon again with the trials alongside ideas of mercy, innocence, and concepts of paying the price.

Meanwhile, in season six, both Claudia and Callum were searching for their deep truths. Their path. Callum found his in Rayla and accepted it wholeheartedly. Claudia thought she'd find hers in Viren ("I'll look at him and I'll know / I need him to show me the right path"), but found only his body and the prison he left behind. Of course, the main reason that Viren died in season six was that he wanted to save Katolis, and more than that, he wanted to save his son.

She said that this was my home, and that my brother and I needed each other.

If Claudia is an eclipsed sun, a form of life turned death, than Soren is the uncorrupted version of the sun, ready and willing to guide her back if she'll just give him the chance. And in going back to Katolis, in sparing/saving Soren, Viren did help give Claudia what she needed in order to find her true path some day, too: a life with her brother and Terry at her side.

Claudia's first real test of love in the series was whether to choose the egg — the world, her father's wishes — over the safety and wellbeing of her family — her brother. She made the right choice.

I'm here.

It'd make sense if one of her final tests of love was a similar trial — maybe even if Callum under possession/Aaravos' control hurts Soren ("Oh I've been stabbed by the stab-prince!") — and Claudia once again chooses her brother over everything, just as he chooses for and fights for her. She ultimately chooses life over death, reflecting the massive change in herself and her character arc.

Likewise, Rayla being a Moonshadow elf saved from death ("I leapt to my certain death, but you spread your wings and you saved me" / "Finnegrin was going to kill you, I didn't have a choice") from Callum means breaking his promise, yes.

However, it also frees her up from needing to be an assassin and therefore from needing to behave like she's "already dead" or that Callum is. The possession/corruption would be a fate worse than death / metaphorical to literal death and rather than delivering either, Rayla would save him in turn. Like Claudia, she chooses life over death, symbolizing the same turning point. Callum, meanwhile, could get the Moon arcanum by realizing he has dark and light inside him; this may not mean a total blank slate (idk if they'd repeat that) from corruption, but a way to permanently throw off Aaravos' control of him regardless.

Life, over death.

Life and death working in harmony under principles of justice, mercy, and compassion.

Conclusion

This is more of rambling "notes on top of all this" place than a proper conclusion, but just a summary of stuff / some speculation for later:

Aaravos needed Moon and Sun stuff specifically from Luna Tenebris and Queen Aditi and that's why he killed them

Aaravos is going to successfully make the Cosmic Council mortal, even if that means making himself mortal.

This makes him more powerful than the Council and they may have reason to ally with our main team in order to take down Aaravos and/or be destroyed themselves

Rayla as Moon and Claudia as Sun reflect both life and death, but each will likely choose life over death; for Rayla this is about a certainty, for Claudia it's more up in the air if she'll have her redemption arc yet (I could see it getting pushed further to arc 3).

I think it'd be really nice if the inversion of life and death had broad implications meant some characters got to say goodbye, like Callum and Ez having a moment with Harrow and/or Sarai

And I think that's about it! What do you think inverting life and death may mean?

[goldtheorys]

Flufftober day 12 (late): Cooking together

_Sorry for getting this out late! Got a bit busy, but I don’t wanna do today’s T-T so here’s a messily edited draft I had for yesterday.

══════════════════ -`♡´-

It had become chilly outside with a small thunder storm today, so with no plans to go out in the miserable weather, you agreed to help Sally with baking some brownies. Toby, ever clingy as he usually is, decided to join. Despite his poor understanding of baking, he had been eager to help during the process.

But now, with Sally off to go watch tv while you all waited for the brownies to bake, you were left alone in the kitchen with Toby. He was sitting on the counter, hot cocoa in hand while he watched you with wide eyes. You had decided to melt some white chocolate chips in hopes you could add a drizzle of it over the brownies. Noticing the strangely intense stare of your baking partner, you spoke up.

“What is it?” You ask, setting aside the chocolate chips bag to grab a bowl.

“Noth-Nothing. I’m just thinking.” He responds, setting his mug down.

“About whaaaat?”

“… I just feel really happy. I du-dunno.”

He shrugs, sniffling as he brings his hand up to brush some hair from his face. You walk over, slotting your body between his legs as you wrap your arms around his waist in a hug. He laughs lightly as he returns the gesture, resting his head on top of yours. Sometimes you felt a little overwhelmed with just how cute he could be.

Pulling away, you reach up to brush his bangs back, holding them there as you plant a kiss on his forehead. Suddenly, his own hands shoot forward, cupping your face (a little roughly) and landing a kiss on every inch of your face, only interrupted by an occasional tic and your bubbling laughter.

“Quit that!” You order, still laughing and trying to squirm away. Eventually he lets go, allowing you to take a step back. “What was that even for?” You inquired, tilting your head slightly as you try to fix your mussed hair.

“To distract you,” Toby says as wicked grin spreads across his face. You furrow your brows in confusion, about to ask what he meant when you suddenly smell burning. Turning around in surprise, you can see the small start of thin smoke seeping from the oven.

“JACKASS!” you yell, shooting forward to attempt and save the brownies while Toby doubles over in laughter, completely forgetting the hell he would get from Sally once you told her what had happened to her treats.

══════════════════ -`♡´-

_Yippie! I might actually switch to head canons after this one tho cause one shots/drabbles idk are NOT my thing. I haven’t done actual writing in a long time so I’d prefer to go practice that before I start posting anymore of that here, where I feel like I got some expectations. Bai!

[cece693]

Ultimatum (Rosalie Hale x Male Vamp. Reader)

This has been brewing in my draft section for far too long. I believe it's time this work saw the light of day.

Summary: M/n Swan, now Cullen, doesn't care if he is breaking his wife's heart, but watching how his sister is dying with Rosalie encouraging it makes m/n rethink their whole marriage. He'll be damned if he stays silent and becomes an accomplice to this murder.

M/n sighed once again as his sister's coughing interrupted what would've otherwise been a tranquil day. He was upstairs in his bedroom, staring out into the forest, attempting to forget Bella's deteriorating state.

When she and Edward returned from their honeymoon, m/n immediately knew something was wrong; he could sense the tension between the newlyweds even before they stepped into the house, not to mention his wife, Rosalie, immediately rushing to Bella's side.

While Rosalie hadn't made her distaste towards his sister unknown, watching as she catered to Bella's every need was bizarre. Yet everything made sense when she announced her pregnancy.

Everyone, except Bella and Rosalie, wanted to kill the thing. It had already broken several ribs, and no ultrasound could predict the pace at which it was growing. Hell, Bella already looked dead: dark circles under her eyes, bones poking through almost translucent skin, and no appetite. M/n couldn't bear to watch as his once lively sister became nothing but a corpse.

A part of him hated Edward for putting this death sentence upon Bella. Didn't the telepath think once of using protection, even if the chances of pregnancy were slim to none? And then there was his wife. 

M/n wasn't dumb. He knew Rosalie only stuck by his sister's side to ensure the baby would be hers. Bella's chances of surviving childbirth were non-existent, and with how everyone would treat the thing, Rosalie was prepared to become its mother. M/n shivered in disgust at the idea of living alongside his sister's murderer. Worst of all, acting as another paternal figure to the thing that ripped their own family apart.

"Shut it, dog!" Rosalie's scream caused m/n to run to the living room. The family was divided, as usual, with Bella acting as the middle ground.

"Rosalie, stop." Esme exclaimed with a stern expression. "All this fighting isn't good for Bella."

"The fetus isn't good for Bella," Alice spoke, glaring daggers at Rosalie before looking at Bella. His sister looked down at her lap, yet m/n didn't take a step to comfort her. This argument was long overdue.

"Say the word, Alice. Baby. It's just a little baby—"

"That's killing my little sister." M/n spoke from his position on the stairs, his gaze filled with venom as he looked at Bella. She looked worse than when he last saw her yesterday.

"You can't be serious." Rosalie whispered in disbelief. "It's a child—"

"You don't know that."

"M/n." Bella whispered, but her brother shook his head.

"No. I'm done watching you and Rosalie act like this will turn out okay. It won't. Either you miraculously survive or die. Those are our only two endings, with the latter being greater as of late."

Silence befell the room as m/n looked to Rosalie for a sign of awareness. Yet his wife only looked at him with disappointment and anger. "It's my decision." Bella finally uttered, looking at all the Cullens in the room and Jacob.

"Nobody will force me into giving up my child." Rosalie went to stand behind Bella, laying a hand on her shoulder in silent support as the rest of the family looked on in resignation.

"So what was the whole point of you marrying Edward?" M/n sought, not giving up easily. He desperately wanted Bella to see reason. "Sacrificing myself to save you when Victoria created the newborn army? Why go through hell and back only to throw it all away for this? Please, Bella," he whispered almost like a prayer. "There's still time."

Walking over to his sister, ignoring Rosalie's burning stare, m/n dropped to his knees and hugged Bella tenderly.

Feeling thin fingers run through his hair, m/n only grew disheartened when Bella whispered, "I can't do it, M/n. I just can't. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if my baby's life was cut short."

Lifting his head, m/n looked into his sister's determined eyes before nodding and rising to his feet. The room remained silent, the weight of the decision hanging heavily in the air. And while the Cullens believed m/n had changed perspectives, that he would support Bella's decision, the words coming out of the youngest coven member stunned them.

"Then I guess this is a goodbye."

"M/n?" Alice asked, her eyes reflecting confusion and concern. However, it was Rosalie who answered her.

"You're going to leave Bella's side over this? Leave me, your wife?! You can't be serious..." Rosalie trailed off, her hurt expression deepening.

"Rose, you know I love you, but seeing you aid Bella's death hurts me. You've made your choice. This is mine." 

Rosalie's gaze hardened, a defensive spark igniting in her eyes. "You can't blame me for this, m/n. I didn't ask for any of this to happen. I'm supporting Bella when everyone's against her. The baby is innocent and I won't apologize for wanting to protect it."

"Protect it?" M/n scoffed, his disbelief evident in his tone. "This isn't about protecting anyone; it's more about your own selfish desires than anything else. If Bella dies, consider me dead too. I can't live, much less love, the person who played a part in her demise." 

[bathic]

⌜KHJ/FR/JWY⌟

Word Count: 1.9k

It wasn’t like McDonald’s wasn’t hiring, or the grocery store down the block didn’t blast on every job-finding website about how they were in desperate need of young, fresh, youth with little to no experience to bag customers purchases. And while you and your two housemates wouldn’t knock it for the ones pursuing those opportunities; that line of pay was just not enough to make it work. And sex sells so much better than burgers. ↳ Warnings: Camera sex, Frottage, mentions of threesome, filming sexual acts, hand-jobs, two dicks in one hand (lmao), some cum.

“Could you just… yeah… a little to the— no, too far. Okay, keep going… stop!” You switched your sight on the viewfinder, fingers adjusting the focus and leveling the brightness out.

“I get we are amateurs, but shouldn’t you have had the camera at least set-up and ready before we got our cocks out?”

“I just bought this thing yesterday, cut me some slack, Joong.”

[Camera zooms in; focus blurs]

“Dammit—“

“Should have spent the rest of the afternoon yesterday figuring out how to work that thing instead of running off to hook-up with San at that stupid frat party.” Hongjoong looked at you with a very mild expression of exasperation. Propped back on his elbows with the bottom of his long-sleeved shirt shoved above his pecs to display his entire abdomen in all its fleshy glory— from dusky nipples to the barely visible happy trail that paved a nice little path to his flaccid cock.

“He’s got you there.”

You fixed Wooyoung with a half-hearted glare, “I wasn’t ‘running off to hook up’ with San… okay, I was— at first. But when I got to his fraternity house, the poor guy was in total freak-out mode.”

[Camera focuses]

“Shit, I think I got it—“

“Finally!”

“Why was he freaking out?”

When you look back up, Wooyoung is mirroring Hongjoong’s pose; laid back on elbows, legs bent at the knees up and spread to give a hood eyeful of his thick tanned thighs, soft cock and the dark bush at the base of his shaft. He chose to not roll his black t-shirt up but plucked the bottom of it up and mouth so that every bit of skin below his belly button was visible.

“Apparently,” You shift to position your hand comfortably into the holding strap, finger perched at the ready against the recording button. “Jongho and his roommate had decided to use his room for some fun and got caught using one of his stuffed animals as a knee cushion.”

Wooyoung seemed to know exactly what you were talking about despite having asked the inquiry to San’s emotional state, snapping his fingers with widened eyes. “The blowjob video! Remember,” He faces Hongjoong with his lips pursed outward, eyebrows raised excitedly. “I mentioned that Jongho and his roomie had sent a recording of her sucking him off to rile me up. That was that!”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, shifting his gaze back to you.

“Are you ready? The draft in here is making my foreskin cold.” He grimaced at the chill causing his skin to pebble up on his exposed stomach.

“Ready when you both are.”

Wooyoung grumbled under his breath, pouting slightly at having the conversation completely stunted before it even got good. Leave it to Hongjoong to be a buzzkill.

“Wooyoung, the lube.”

The younger of the two men reached an arm back blindly to grab at the abandoned bottle of non-scented lubrication, popping the cap with his thumb and squeezing a copious amount of clear goop onto his palm. You swooped in to collect the bottle and tossed it out of frame. Wooyoung looked over at Hongjoong to see him eyeing the slight bubbled blob with a curled lip.

“What?”

“You’re jerking us off not sticking your fist up my ass. Was that much really necessary?”

Wooyoung groans, head flopping back dramatically. “Do you have to complain about every little thing someone does?”

Before Hongjoong could settle into ‘not everyone, just you’ speech, you interrupted with a shove to both of their knees. “Save it till after we’ve filmed this, yeah?”

“Whatever.” Wooyoung without further comment, scooted closer to Hongjoong until the back of their bare thighs touched and balls lightly pressed together. His hand curled around his own soft cock first, giving it a couple tugs before moving to curl his long fingers around Hongjoong’s. All three of you watched the tricky finessing, the lube making it harder to really wrangle both cocks into Wooyoung’s fist.

“Joongie, move a bit closer. Can’t grab your cock—“

Hongjoong huffed, ignoring the heat burning at his ears and neck as he inched closer. The feeling of his skin shifting and pressing tight against Wooyoung’s made his cock twitch, something he chose to ignore in favor of adjusting himself back onto his elbows and letting his legs widen for the camera in your hand. You gave him a thumbs up, peeking from over the viewfinder.

“Lookin’ good.”

Wooyoung, with his lubed hand now properly wrapped around both of their cocks, gave the signal for you to press the record button.

[Red light blinks on; timestamp appears onto screen of viewfinder; camera recording]

Hongjoong looks at the camera, at that red indicator for a good long second before shifting his gaze down at his lubed cock, held firm in Wooyoung’s fist. Seeing the slightly flushed head disappear then reappear alongside his roommate's bulbous tip, wrinkled skin tugging back like the wrapper on a push-pop, made every grievance he had for this ludicrous idea burn up into thin speckling’s of ash. The sight was undeniably hot, to you, to him, to Wooyoung who had let pretty little whines fall past his self-bitten lips without a single care.

“Fuck—“ Wooyoung flexed his fingers a bit, adjusting some to bend closer to his inner hand so that the blunt ends of his nails lightly scratched against Hongjoong’s shaft.

You watched them through the viewfinder with rapt attention, sucking your bottom lip between teeth. It doesn’t take a scientist to admit how downright good-looking your housemates are, both tanned, nicely built without the overdone bulging muscles of some steroidal chemical, pretty thick lips and shapely noses. You remembered briefly after a long night bar hopping with a couple of your girlfriends— one slurring over her words as you stumbled to maintain not only her deadweight but your own decline in equilibrium, that she thought you were not only the luckiest person to be alive and the most stupid… to also be alive.

At that point, you had been housemates for about two years with Hongjoong and Wooyoung. And only that.

To her— that made you the biggest idiot on campus. Living with two of the finest men and yet all you ever did with them was watch reruns of SNL and play ‘who can chug the most seltzer water within thirty seconds without throwing up’— Hongjoong holds that title quite proudly, even if he ended up vomiting just a moment after you did. Wooyoung didn’t even last the first three gulps before blowing the drink out of his nose and subsequently choking on the remainder that escaped down the wrong pipe.

No, you didn’t sleep with them… at first.

But now all three of you had just passed the mark of four and a half years of living together and somewhere down the hazy path did you end up with Wooyoung’s cock far down your throat while taking up one of the few stalls with a working toilet in some grimy underground club, knees bruised with small squares of toilet paper you thought would help cushion them imbedded into your skin. Hongjoong, an idea that wasn’t so grand, ate your pussy out on the couch after eating extra spicy jjajangmyeon (curtesy of you and your need to bet on everything) which caused an unfavorable burn to light up between your legs. And while both instances weren’t exactly ideal, they did open the doors into something physical between the three of you.

Something that came with a whole inner circle of friends and a long conversation of not-so exclusive exclusivity.

You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted whenever you wanted— as long as it was only with those in that inner circle. Which meant the mutual friends that bridged between Hongjoong and Wooyoung were fair game, something they themselves agreed on, except for Jongho whom preferred to keep his ‘benefits’ with his own roommate. You had no objections so long as they also kept to the inner circle and even encouraged them to try things with a few of your own friend's (Wooyoung to dabble with Jongho and his roomie for example).

Hongjoong parted his fingers down the center, using the triangular space to slot the base of his cock into, a huffy moan rattling up from his throat. He squeezed— once, twice, three times with every downward drag of Wooyoung’s hand, his nails igniting a tingling path in their wake.

“I can feel your balls twitching against mine.”

You would have laughed if not for the heavily erotic situation. Wooyoung fisting their combined cocks while panting roughly, eyes lidded and focused solely on Hongjoong across from him.

Hongjoong fared no better. His skin flushed from his cheeks down to his neck and along his exposed abdomen, nipples hard where they catch against the crumpled fabric of his shirt lying sloppy against his upper chest. He watched the camera, giving the lens sultry looks and unabashed moans. It made you feel like he was looking at you through the camera.

“Yeah? Feels good… shit, your hand feels good on my cock.”

Wooyoung rolled his head back with a perfect view of every knob along the column of his throat, a gravelly groan shifting his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t— Don’t say things like that, might blow my load early. Wanna… fuck… wanna come together.”

You figured that Wooyoung was playing it up a bit but taking a real good look at his raised brows and parted lips, the sweat on his upper lip and forehead telling enough of how much he was truly into this. Mutually jacking off his roommate and himself struck a profound nerve somewhere within him— it almost made you just a tad bit envious.

Hongjoong’s toes curled, the dribble of precum he could feel at his tip caught on the camera. If you tried hard enough, you could practically imagine the taste of it on your tongue. That thought alone was enough to make your shift a bit, careful not to shake the camera out of focus.

“‘M getting close, Youngie. Go faster.”

Wooyoung’s slicked up hand moved quicker along their cocks, tightly squeezing both shafts and jerking from the base to the tips in one long drag. The rubbing, the moaning, the heat and the skin contact from one underside to the next was enough to throttle Hongjoong over the edge, his cum bubbling up in short spurts that coated his roommates hurried fist. Wooyoung befell to his own orgasm, shuddering enough that his leg accidentally kicked out and shook you from your kneeled position. His cum shot up like a milky geyser, splattering over his shirt and both of their lower extremities.

You gaped at the amount before clicking the stop button and moving the camera from away from your face.

“Dude… I think we might have just made something that’ll pay next month's rent in full.”

Hongjoong huffs, head lolling to the side to lay on his shoulder. “You think?”

Wooyoung plops back, his chest heaving and soiled hand rubbing mindlessly across a clean patch of his shirt.

“I can’t feel my legs— or my arm.”

You scooch closer to them, knees knocking into the sides of their lower legs. “I don’t think— I know. Definitely one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen before. To be honest, I’m a bit jealous.”

Hongjoong reaches a handout to gather some of his and Wooyoung’s cum from his inner thigh, presenting his evenly coated fingers to you with a sly curl to his lips.

“Can’t forget to pay the camerawoman.”

And you wouldn’t dare dream of rejecting such a lovey offer.

[metaphoricgibberish]

Nights Like This One: XIX.

"He let out a sharp exhale that rattled his ribs before he finally twisted the handle and stepped outside. Everything in Jackson looked the same, but the town felt altered in a way that was so palpable he could almost smell it. He tried to keep his head down, tried to ignore the brutal, clawing tug in his chest as he walked toward the stables, but he couldn't seem to halt the motion, the innate need to glance up, to look for her."

paring: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 7.8k a.n. this specific chapter has lived in my head for almost a year, and because of that i don't think i'll ever be happy with it, but OH WELL HERE YOU GO! this is also the last chapter i have saved in my drafts, so updates will go back to being much more sporadic. i'm in nyc for the next week, but hopefully i can get chapter twenty out before the end of the month. btw, i know this week has been hard for those in the US. i cried all day yesterday. i hope this can be somewhat of a reprieve from everything.

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[madwomansapologist]

when the lights go out | usopp x strawhat!reader

with loguetown ahead of the crew, usopp finds comfort on your shared moments. talking, working or in complete silence: he loves them all.

cw: just fluff! friendship, love and fabrication of guns. usopp being his usual insecure being.

an: this is slightly east blue policule. i just love those guys so much everything i write for them becomes a bit romantic. pre-loguetown. reader described to have lilac hair and golden eyes. do y'll wanna see the art i have for this strawhat?

"And just like that eight thousand warriors submit to my inexplicable talent", Usopp chanted, glaring at his reflected image on the mirror. "I know, I know, it was so nice of me to allow them to fight for me."

Usopp brushed his sniper goggles, cleaning what wasn't even dirt. He flexed a few times, imagining a few muscles on his slim body. Was that brown overall the best one he had?

He wanted to look like himself. Like his best self. Someone that could be a warrior of the sea. That could led eight thousand warriors. Usopp hoped to be someone that would impress others.

Usopp doesn't lie: he dreams. Except from all times when he does lie, of course.

During all his life, the only thing Usopp really wanted was to entertain others with his stories. Once the people in Syrup Village grew tired of them, Usopp had only a few friends left interested on the tales he had to tell. Not that he would ever stop being himself just because a dozen villagers chased him down the island.

But this crew is something else. How can everyone be so interesting? Not only that, but how can they all be so interested on one another? It still surprises Usopp. How everyone wants to hear what the other has to say, to teach. Even more what the other wants to hide.

It could be because, well, it's food, but he knows when Luffy asks Sanji about the All Blue is because he wants to hear the cook's voice. Sanji says he only competes with Zoro to proof that he's better than the swordsman, but that's not the truth. Not entirely, at least.

He once watched as Nami babbled on and on about cartography. Zoro stood there, quiet as a rock until the moment he complained, but nothing will change the fact he was wide awake the whole time. And there are all the late nights you spend studying architectural plants or ergonomic treaties, only awake because Nami makes sure to keep your cup warm.

And there is the way you ask Usopp about his trinckets.

You listen. An inventor, able to create motors and pulleys with the most worthless piece of metal, listen to him. At first Usopp thought you would judge him, who knows how many times your brain saved them all, but he saw only interest in your eyes. About what his trinckets could do, what inspires him, how he learn how aim.

Soon Usopp found notes with your calligraphy near his drafts. He found himself asking for your help to deal with metal. And yesterday Usopp couldn't believe his ears when you asked him if you both could work together. Great inventors must help one another, you said as if it meant nothing.

You thought he was great.

And Usopp wants be great. To feel great. To look great. Not only you're interest on what Usopp has to say, but you also think about him the same way he thinks about you. How could Usopp not overthink about every little thing on him?

Admiring his overall, now blue out of his indecisive nature, Usopp noticed how long it took him to get ready. It's already way pass the time you told him to meet you!

Running through Going Merry, Usopp felt his heartbeat increasing. You had understand, he really couldn't help but being late! Well, he could, but you don't need to know that part of the story.

"Zoro would be dead if it wasn't for me", Usopp explained himself, opening the door of your room in his usual exasperated way. Hands on his hair to make sure he looked great, Usopp put on a charming smile. "That man can't be trusted to walk alone..."

As the sunlight invaded your room from the open door, Usopp saw your working table filled with notes and gadgets covering the wood. And besided your organized mess, was your head. Bend over the chair in a position that couldn't be comfortable, lilac hair glued to your forehead, you were deep asleep.

Usopp sighed. There goes his chance of spending more time with you. All because he took too long to get ready. "No lie can save me from this one", Usopp whispered to himself.

He closed the door for the sunlight not to wake you up. Trying to be as careful as someone like him could, Usopp took the gadgets from the table. He put them inside your wardrobe, trying to respect the weird way you placed them.

If he was strong like Zoro or Sanji, he would've carried you to your bed. Since he isn't, he took the blanket for it and silently covered you. It wasn't cold, but climate was weird lately. Better to prevent than to remend.

Usopp would rather work with you, tell you all his stories, but still Usopp found himself smiling. So cute. His fingers played with your hair, the sweet perfume of tangerine reaching his long nose as he tucked it behind your ears.

"Usopp", you murmured, voice leaking tiredness. Your golden eyes met his, and Usopp jerked away from you. Slowly, you moved your body to a more natural position. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"D-Don't worry", Usopp could feel his cheeks burning. Did you noticed he was playing with your hair? "Are you feeling alright, o esteemed inventor?"

Your whole body was sore, but still your smile was natural. Usopp always comes up with the best nicknames. Cute. "No, I'm fine. Just still not used to sleep on a ship. You wanna start? I was working on a prototype, a machine to operate the helm and spare Sanji's back."

Usopp sat on the chair beside you, his arm resting on the back of yours. "That reminds me of one of my many adventures!"

You looked at him. Between those yellow eyes, all he saw was interest. Like always. "Tell me all about it."

And of couse Usopp did. He made sure to create an amazing story, with a great hero and a great danger. As his words reached your ears, more and more relaxed you felt. When your eyes first started to wander, Usopp knew his plan worked perfectly.

Slowly, you allowed sleep to envelop you once again. Your body was warm, his words were soothing, and for the first time in a while the movement of the waves felt welcoming.

Usopp gagged when your head fell on his shoulder, but quickly went back to the history. His body was burning again. After a while, he stopped talking. The only thing he could hear was your breathing.

For next hour, Usopp didn't move from his place besides you. His shoulder throbbed, Sanji almost fought him for the right of holding you, and his stomach ached for completion.

It was a perfect day.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

general taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[fiddles-ifs]

Hi from Maine! Happy (late. so late.) Pride!! And happy (LATE.) update day! I bequeath to you these widdle guys, which I spent a lot of time on in between other projects. They're also to apologize for delayed Greenwarden story update, because:

I've been writing a book! And I finished the first draft literally yesterday! I'm going to shit my pants!! Now that the first draft is done, I have some editing to do, which is going to eat up my time, but now I have some wiggle room to work on Greenwarden again. Check out this (raw, unedited) snippet from The House Loves You as thanks for your patience:

Next period’s bell is a shrill reminder I still haven’t touched my food. I put whatever I was reading away and dump my tray unceremoniously on the way out. The cafeteria is already empty — I don’t think I’ve ever been in a less busy school. Barely a week in, and I already know everyone by name and the general area where they live. It's more information than I want. Eventually, it'll be a new school in a new town with new people, then another, then graduation, and I'll get into a mediocre college in a different town and never look back. I'll figure it out from there.

They seem like small dreams — but they're what I've got.

I float through the rest of my classes in the back of the room. The bus ride home is unremarkable; my one saving grace is my license, but Mom has the car and we can't afford another bill, so the bus it is. Again -- the open wound is smoothed over knowing I'm not alone. I languish in the relative silence with a pair of earbuds in.

I'm the last stop in the evening. The bus rolls along, slowly shedding children like scabs, until it creeps nervously to the mailbox and gravel road that marks the mouth of the holler. It sputters like an anxious horse, shudders to a stop, and hisses open. The doors close too fast behind me, and the bus peels away in a cloud of grit. Finally, I'm well and truly alone.

The trees are tall and wild here, untouched by human hands. Branches knit together in dense braids and then part again, each gap in the canopy scorched by yellow mountain sunlight. The gravel road bends left and disappears into the deep shadows. Rocks crunch near-silently underfoot. Like they're afraid to wake something sleeping in the dark recesses of the holler. Even the birds speak in whispers.

I grab a few overdue bills from the mailbox and shuffle up the road. Mom's not home, so I get some peace and quiet for a couple hours.

The winding gut of the holler rips open in an abrupt hole, and beyond the hole is a clearing. In the clearing, circled by trees with dark trunks and tight branches, are a few rusted, dead tires, an abandoned swing set, some overgrown grass, and a house. My back hurts and my legs are sore, but I still pause at the threshold.

The house is an ugly sore made of cracked, peeling white siding and a sagging porch. Just enough timber has been cleared away to make a front and back yard. The roof seems to bow under the weight of the sky, all dark windows and missing shingles. It's a quiet house. It doesn't talk much. Not usually.

I drag my feet across the hidden flagstones in the grass, and listen to the sound of the screen door squeal open. Once I step inside, the house greets me, as it usually does.

Welcome home, Cash.