#i cast gun as my first spell

[relencomp]

Listen Here. Yeah, You. I Have Something To Tell You.

I need to talk about the book I’m writing so badly but everyone I know is asleep or dead(?) and I hear Tumblr is cool about writing and stuff.

it’s got lesbians and big guns and magic and shenanigans.

I hear that sells like hot cakes here. Come take a bite.

[unboundprompts]

Hii!! I came across your blog and immediately followed since I thought I might needed some help with my fanfics, and if there's one thing I'm bad at is describing fight scenes with like guns or magic, I've been struggling to write it and did some practices and didn't like how they came out, I'm hoping if you can do some fighting prompts, I hope this isn't too much!!

How to Write Fight Scenes

-> check out @howtofightwrite , they are an excellent resource for writing realistic fight scenes.

Set the Stakes Early

Why are they fighting? Establish the stakes of the fight clearly before it begins. If the reader understands what’s at risk, they’ll feel more invested. Stakes could be personal (revenge, survival), emotional (protecting a loved one), or strategic (achieving a mission).

Use the Environment

Incorporate the setting to add depth and realism. Are they fighting in a cramped alley, an open field, or a crowded city street? Describe how the environment affects movement, line of sight, or weapon use.

Vary Sentence Length for Pacing

Short sentences create tension and speed, while longer sentences allow for brief moments of reflection or description.

Incorporate Sensory Details

Highlight the senses beyond sight to ground the reader in the fight. Describe the smell of sweat, the metallic taste of blood, the weight of a sword, or the deafening roar of a gun.

Example: “Her ears rang as the blast reverberated around the alley. Smoke filled her nose, thick and choking, but she ignored it, tightening her grip on her weapon.”

Focus on Key Moments, Not Every Movement

Avoid blow-by-blow descriptions. Instead, highlight critical moves, reactions, and turning points to keep the scene flowing and avoid overwhelming the reader.

Show Physical Strain and Fatigue

Fights take a toll, especially over time. Show characters struggling to keep up, panting, sweating, or even stumbling as exhaustion sets in.

Example: “Her arms ached, each swing feeling heavier than the last. Her breathing came fast, ragged, but she couldn’t stop now.”

Capture Emotions and Mindset

Mix action with glimpses of your characters’ thoughts and emotions. This adds depth and reminds readers why the fight matters.

Describe Injuries Believably

Injuries impact the pace and intensity of a fight. Showing injuries realistically adds tension and makes victories feel hard-won.

Example: “She hissed as pain flared in her side where his blade had grazed her. Her vision blurred, but she forced herself to stand, one hand pressed to the wound.”

Build Up to a Climax

As the fight progresses, increase the stakes and bring tension to a peak. This could be a devastating blow, a risky last-minute decision, or a surprising twist.

Example: “He was backed against the wall, nowhere left to run. She raised her hand, a final spell crackling in her palm, the light casting a fierce glow in her eyes.”

Conclude with a Realistic Aftermath

Show the immediate aftermath of the fight: physical exhaustion, injuries, and the character’s emotional response. If they won, are they triumphant, relieved, or traumatized? If they lost, what happens next?

Fight Scene Prompts (with Magic)

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

As they crept down the dim hallway, the flash of gunfire exploded from behind, forcing them to dive to the ground, bullets ricocheting off the walls around them. She barely had time to pull her weapon, pressing her back to the wall as footsteps drew closer. With a steadying breath, she waited for the right moment, then spun, firing off two rounds that hit their marks with surgical precision. The hall fell silent, the smell of gunpowder hanging in the air.

Electricity crackled around his hands as he stalked toward his opponent, energy building in his fingertips. She mirrored his stance, blue flames licking up her wrists as her gaze narrowed. He made the first move, sending a bolt of lightning in her direction, but she countered with a quick flick of her wrist, sending the flames forward like a living shield. Sparks flew as their magic collided, the force of it rattling the metal beams around them.

He ducked behind the dumpster as gunfire erupted, bullets pinging off the conjured barrier that surrounded him. He gritted his teeth, feeling the strain as his shield flickered with each impact. His opponent advanced, shouting taunts over the noise, but he focused, raising one hand to push the barrier outwards, turning it from defense to offense. With a growl, he flung the shield forward like a battering ram, the force slamming his opponent back against the alley wall.

They ascended into the night sky, wind whipping around them as spells flew between them like streaks of fire. He could barely keep up, dodging her relentless attacks as the city lights twinkled below. Finally, he unleashed a burst of energy from his hands, the force spiraling outward in a shockwave. She managed to deflect it just in time, retaliating with a beam of light that sliced through the night like a comet, forcing him into a desperate mid-air roll to avoid it.

[messylxve]

old flame | aaron hotchner x reader

part two

content warning: angst, yearning, sad hotch, tension is THICC, mentions of abduction, guns, pregnant character, angry cops

pt1 pt3

Aaron still thinks about you most days. There was not much he clung onto from his years before, but you were one of the few he couldn’t let go of.

He supposed it was because you were one of the few things he never got closure for. You had just disappeared one day, completely untraceable as if you never wanted to be seen by him again.

And he didn’t know why.

It was a rather quiet day in the BAU. Morgan and Prentiss goofed off while Reid rambled on about…something. Aaron stuck it out in his office per usual.

He should have been doing paperwork, but his mind wandered elsewhere. It wandered to the picture in his wallet. He gazed at it sadly, wondering when it all went wrong.

The picture was of you and him: a selfie taken on a camera from when the two of you went to a store late at night and decided to cart each other around in the shopping carts.

Strange how some of the happy memories he had left, were of you.

“Hotch.”

He flipped his wallet shut, his attention now on JJ as she stood at the doorway of his office. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “What do you have?”

“Multiple abductions in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Two girls, a woman, and a boy. All ranging in ages, but all related to officers under the police force.”

“What’s the time difference between each?”

JJ shook her head, flipping through one of the folders. “Three days.”

Hotch quickly pocketed his wallet and stood from his desk. “We’ll do the debriefing on the jet, alert the others. Wheels up in 10.”

To say it was chaos in Harrisburg Police precinct was an understatement. Phones rang endlessly, people rushed around and the sound of arguing echoed from the chief’s office.

“It's not usually like this,” one officer greeted. “This has become personal for a few of us and they aren't taking it lightly.”

Hotch scanned over the precinct, the uneasiness in the air radiating out to his team. “I suggest you take those officers off the case. We can't afford any distractions from anyone to interfere with this.”

“That's what were working on,” he nodded over to the office where four uniformed individuals crowded around a desk. “They aren't making it easy.”

Hotch’s frown deepened before looking around. “Do you have a space for my team to set up?”

“Yes, right this way,” he motioned for the group to follow him before turning back to Hotch. “Chief wants you in her office before we begin breaking things down.”

“Thank you.”

Hotch didn't know why he didn’t suspect something when he heard the shouting the first time. Walking closer, he realized he knew that voice. It was the voice that had haunted him for years.

“Do not question my authority again. The four of you are suspended from this case. If I hear another complaint, argument or so much of a whisper about my decision your guns will be confiscated until the case is closed. Am I clear?”

Aaron’s heart stuttered. His hand found the doorframe to grip as he watched in awe.

A small chorus of ‘yes chief’ followed your reprimand from all but one officer.

“Am. I. Clear. Smith?”

The man grit his teeth, staring you dead in the eye. “Yes chief.”

“You’re dismissed.”

Each officer left the room, leaving the two of you alone and suddenly you felt like kids all over again.

“Aaron.”

“y/n,” he breathed out. “I didn’t know—,”

“Neither did I,” you interrupted, knowing exactly what he was talking about. You felt your defenses slip away for the first time in a long time in his presence. You hated to admit it but it felt good. Seeing him again despite all of the years away.

But that look in his eyes, the pain and heartbreak. It took you right back to the day you fucked up.

It was almost as a spell was casted, Aaron saw your walls form again.

You cleared your throat and folded your arms. “There are only so many officers I can have on the field for this, so I thank you and your team for being here.”

“I- of course.”

Aaron had never felt so unsure during a case.

“Agent Smith says he was on the phone with her right before it happened and she hung up quickly,” you mused, standing in the front entryway of the Smith home with Hotch and Morgan. “Jessica Smith was 8 months pregnant when taken…”

“Which means she couldn’t have put up much of a fight,” Hotch finished your thoughts. Your eyes found his for just a moment and your heart stuttered in its chest. Had it been so many years ago, the two of you would have laughed about it, or shouted jinx, but not anymore.

“But she still would have put up some semblance of a struggle. She didn’t fight at all.” You cleared your throat.

Morgan looked oddly between the two of you, crossing his arms. “Right, so is it possible the unsub had a weapon. Threatened her to let him in.”

Hotch shook his head. “I don’t think so, the unsub had to be someone she trusted.”

“But didn’t want around the kids,” you muttered, eyes staring down the entryway.

Morgan furrowed his brows. “What makes you say that.”

Your eyes flickered up to Hotch, that’s where they wanted to go, but you trained them on Morgan instead. “The other kids were home, would’ve ran to the door to see who might be there.”

Hotch watches you carefully as you walk over to the door, your gloved hand closing it. “Mom makes it to the door first, sees the unsub through the peephole and recognizes him, but thinks it might not be a good idea for the husband to know he was there.”

You turn away from the door, facing the men. “She hangs up the phone abruptly, tells the kids to go play and leaves her phone right here on the table before opening up the door.”

You open the door slowly and step outside, noting the mud on the welcome mat leading to the the first few feet of the house.

“The mud from the prints match the ones at the other scenes, but they don’t run through the house…they stop here.”

“She didnt want him far into the house at all,” Hotch finished off again.

“So that means the unsub is someone each family knows and Jessica recognizes, but is a sore subject, not wanting her husband to know he was there,” Morgan theorizes.

“Someone who was fired or discharged,” you realized.

Hotch furrowed his brows. “Have you recently let go of officers.”

You nodded your head. “A few. But there’s no way to go through files like that without getting unneeded attention from other officers.”

Hotch turned to Morgan. “Call Garcia, tell her—,”

“No need,” you interrupted. “I have direct files saved to my personal computer. It’ll be faster.”

Hotch eyes stayed on you, contemplating his choices.

“Morgan, get back to the precinct, update the others. l/n and I will retrieve the files.”

The car ride was…awkward to say the least.

Hotch had a million things he wanted to say, he needed to say. But somewhere between his heart and his voice, it died upon delivery.

“Spit it out,” you blurted out suddenly, forcing his attention to you.

“What?”

“You’re twiddling your thumbs and biting the inside of your cheek. Every time you look at me you take this gasp of air. What do you want to tell me?”

So many years had passed and yet you could still read him like the back of your hand.

“That was impressive back there…” he swallowed hard. “You’d make a good profil—,”

“Please don’t tell me you cooked up all of your guts just to tell me I’d be a good profiler,” you laughed.

It sounded harsh, but there was something in your tone that eased Aaron’s heart. He laughed too for the first time in a long time.

“No I guess not.”

However just as easily as the moment eased up, it easily tensed back into that painful silence.

“Why did you leave,” he blurted out finally.

Your smile dissolved so quickly, it pained Aaron to be the reason it was even there.

“I got an offer from UPenn. Full ride.”

Aaron frowned. “Congratulations.” It was genuine, despite how hollow his voice sounded. “But that’s not the real reason is it.”

Your voice suddenly felt very raw as you attempted to swallow back your emotions, but just as quickly as they left, it came back. “No…”

“Why—,”

“Because,” you burst out. “After that night, when you begged me to…” you couldn’t bear to finish that sentence. “…what we did…I couldn’t go back to what we were. It hurt too much to. I was ready to tell you everything when I saw you again but…you and Haley. She… I couldn’t do that to her.”

You were bearing your emotions out, on the verge of tears releasing every pent up emotion since that night and Aaron never felt more stupid in his life.

They had finally come at a red light when Aaron spoke up. “What night? What did I…what did I ask you to do?”

He was terrified of your answer.

But you. Everything in you stopped. Your heart, your brain, even your breath. Everything was so silent when you turned your head and finally looked him in the eye for the first time in ages.

“You really don’t remember?”

He shook his head. “No.”

No

No

No

His single word reverberated through your bones, sinking deep into your soul. What do you mean no?

You turned to the road, a humorless chuckle falling from your lips. “You don’t even remember.”

“y/n,” Aaron called your name with such desperation. “Please.”

You looked back at him, hearing that tone in his voice. Suddenly you were taken back to that night. Between the pleas in his voice and that depressingly sad look in his eyes, he looked just the way he did all those nights ago.

God how long is this light?

“You were drunk. Haley accused you of being in love with me. You begged me to kiss you to prove it was a lie.”

His heart squeezed in his chest and his lungs felt as if it was wrapped in barbed wire. It hurt.

“Did I?”

Your eyes flickered over to him for just a millisecond.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

part three out now!!

taglist: @mackannkees @gghostwriter

[jolalibrary]

under the stars

joel miller x f!reader | masterlist

summary: joel finds that you become a thing of unnatural order, all ethereal as the moonlight kisses your curves.

wordcount: 3.7k warnings: post outbreak. smut. oral sex (m receiving). tying joel up with rope. cutting joel free with a knife. p in v. jo's spelling. feelings, but joel-feelings. softer!joel an: i've had this in my head for so long, getting it down on a page has been the whole wonderful, exciting and exhausting thing. i could sing forever about the moon. thank you to the most wonderful, and amazing @swiftispunk who i threw this at last night and made me feel like i am a goddess of the moon.

Joel had learnt early on that you liked the night.

You’d handed it to him in puzzle pieces—flecks of information that he’d eventually be able to make a portrait out of. First, you’d handed him a story, then a statement and then a feeling.

The only times you didn’t like the night was when it was silent.

No wind in the trees, each branch crunching sounding for miles. You didn’t tell him with your words, but rather your body—frame closer, practically against him.

When he’d seen the abandoned train yard coming into view, he’d already considered it. The night had been closing in, the last embers of daylight casting shadows larger shadows across the tall, wiry grass.

“Ever stayed in a train?”

“Can’t say I have.”

He wonders a lot about the things you haven’t done. If you had a list of things you had hoped to tick off from a list before the world went to shit. Whether you had made a new one when you woke up one day and realised it was kill or be killed.

In another life, he wonders if you’d have been a nurse, a doctor, a baker or a typist—because there’s something about your hands. A soothingness about them wasted on holding a gun or slitting a hole in a person from jaw to pelvis. It’s something which passes over you more when the sun goes down. The sharpness in you fading, as though you truly become the thing you were always supposed to be when shrouded in night and the moon comes out to greet you.

He supposes the night is the constant. The unchanged force that arrived and vanished each day—a fixed point, a welcomed relief. Things don’t appear any more threatening in the dark, no more than the world was before.

Yet, Joel finds that you become a thing of unnatural order, all ethereal as the moonlight kisses your curves. It highlights the lines that bend, and illuminates the sheen which coats your skin as you stare back at him in gratitude, as though the way he makes you feel good can make up for all you were robbed of. He hopes to, not by being the thing you lie next to, but the thing which keeps you safe. A protector, a wall of muscle, bone and flesh that would rip if it meant keeping you whole.

It wouldn’t even matter if it were day or night.

Before it all happened, he’d never have considered that the night was more alive than the day. But he’d witnessed how it was. How the darkness provided by the sky was a gift, the moon licking shadows that added an illusion of safety, one he had used to his advantage.

Your words coaxing him, whispered, all hushed, we can take them—won’t even see us coming. You had been right. Staring up at the sky as you caught your breath, stars inside your eyes and a soul full of darkness.

As he glances over, you’re doing it now.

Peering up through the open hatch of the train roof, cross-legged, dragging his jacket further around your body as you stare, and stare, and stare.

Transfixed, lost. Kidnapped by memories, most likely, ones he won’t rip you from just yet.

He wonders if you had ever wished on them, ever stared up at them with hopefulness swimming in your eyes—their twinkle swirling in the pools of your gaze. Joel wonders whether you’d pleaded for something so hard under the night sky that your nails cut into your palms, only for everything to be robbed from you all the same. Had you ever seen a shooting star, and had you prayed on it for a future that included a white dress or a picket fence?

“Don’t they look so pretty, Joel?”

It falls from you like a whisper, almost innocent—far removed from the killer he knows you can be. From the gutless, powerful soul he sees rip through people when they make you spill crimson and try to take what isn’t theirs.

It’s almost easy, he thinks, to tell you that there’s something prettier next to him. Someone who could rival the prettiest of nights and the most gorgeous of days. Something that could have been fragile, but instead is strong, chaos imagined, all wrapped inside eyes he sees when he dreams.

Head tilting, you meet his gaze, and it’s too much—too strong. It's intoxicating. Feeling drunk off it—that feeling of normalcy you make him want.

“You ever had your cock sucked under the stars?���

You know he has.

Know that under leafless branches and an almost full moon you’d taken him in your mouth. All warm, welcoming—his fingers knotted on the back of your head, biting back each hiss, each grunt as he felt teardrops on the crease of his thighs and hips.

It doesn’t matter what his answer is, you’re already facing him, knees digging into the train floor. Your fingers already working his belt—a glimmer in your eye that has him half-hard already.

Because if lust had a look, he swears it would be you.

That look in your eyes always does something to him. It’s more than just being alive, it’s a glint, a spark of something that he swears would have had rows of people to their knees. Right now, it’s all for him. Only his.

A possessiveness rings through him at the thought; rising up in him when he lingers on it, that he has this with you—has this unlabelled thing where he sees all the shards of you, has met each part which makes you whole.

“I want you to try not touching,” you say, tongue dragging across your bottom lip, mouth close to his.

He wants to taste your request. Breathe it in. Have it merge with his insides, all because of the look that accompanies it. One that makes his jaw tighten, almost tick.

“You think you can do it, Miller? Think you can refrain from touching me until I say so.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “Sure.”

The latter catches on his teeth as the cool air brushes over his weeping cock once you free him from his clothing. Your head tilting, holding his stare as you lick a stripe up your palm, before wrapping it around him, pumping him. Tightening your fingers, murmuring about how hard he is for you, how thick he feels in your hand.

“We’ll see,” you smirk, pausing your ministrations, and lowering your head. "Fuck, your cock is perfect, Miller."

A retort brewed, ready to fire, shoot, land. Then, your mouth wraps around him.

Just the tip at first, pausing, all tentative. Your lashes close to your brows as you stare up at him—the moon painting you in a light which he swears he never thought possible. Because it only highlights the appetite you have for him, the starvation to take more of him.

It makes his fingers twitch at his side. Forces his thighs to tense under the need to grasp the back of your head. He refrains, even if it’s a battle he’s prepared to lose. In time.

For now, he wants more of this. Enjoy more of you licking the head of his cock, from humming around him, testing yourself as you try to take more of him, and more, and more—

A groan vibrates around him, making his eyes flutter closed. The battle having appeared sooner, slammed into him as you took more of him. Moaning sweetly around him, tongue swirling around the head when you come up before the tip hits the back of your throat all over again.

Joel doesn’t think of consequences, he just thinks of the need to feel himself in your throat. Letting his fingers move, slide around, brushing up your neck as you take as much of him as you can, mouth so stuffed—

“Hands, Miller.”

He groans, your tongue sliding up the base of him, lips hovering at the head before you trace your lips with him—those perfect, fucking lips—wiping him over you, smearing him.

“I’ll tie your hands down.”

His cock twitches, and you must notice from the way your brow arches, lifting up from him, bottom lip smothered in spit.

Joel finds most of the time, you have heavenly eyes and a hellish smile. A thing which shouldn’t remain, should have been stolen, ripped from you. Right now, you’re nothing but wickedness and darkness.

“Oh, Miller,” you say, voice lower, his name falling like silk. “Do you want me to tie you down? Stop you from touching me.”

He does.

A thing he doesn’t dare deny. His own eyes having caught sight of some frayed rope earlier, pointing it out, instructing—watching in awe as you move swiftly, boots hammering against the train floor, thudding and thudding until you’re on your knees either side of his, holding in both palms.

“Lie down.”

Your instruction carries weight, your body shifting as he lies down, your body crawling up him.

“Do it like—”

“You showed me?” you smirk. “I know how to keep you down, Miller.”

You lean back onto your knees, jean-covered cunt on his chest. Fuck what he’d do to move his hands from waiting for the circles of the knot you’re going to make—and pull you down to his mouth. Lets his breath puff warm air into the worn fabric, forcing it against your likely soaked core. Watch your lashes flutter as you try to make your identical loops, and see if you can think of overlapping them—whether you even make the knot, or let it fall to the wayside as you plead for his mouth, his tongue, his fucking teeth, before he manages to wriggle your clothing down your thighs.

He doesn’t find out, because he doesn’t move. Shadows disguise your expression, all except your smirk as you slide his wrists through the old rope—the frays tickling, brushing over his skin and hair, before with a pull, you tighten it—applying traction.

“Above your head,” you instruct.

You hinge at the hips, falling into the line of the moonlight. And, there’s a little gruffness to your voice, matching the pools of lust currently trying to swallow him whole—readying themselves to consume him, devour him. He doesn’t mind. He never fucking does.

Joel would willingly die in your eyes if he could—in the pair which sees him, all of him. Not afraid of the way he’s worn, the grief he carries, and the array of stories left in scars.

Best looking man I’ve ever killed for.

Only man you’ve killed for.

Fine. Best looking man I’ve laid my eyes on.

He’d succumb to you if you asked. More so, when you slide back down. The seam of your jeans brushing down his cock—the friction pleasant, warranted, needed.

He’s about to ask you to remove them. To bring yourself back up, allow him a taste, something to tide him over, reward you. He’d maybe even beg.

But, he swears your mouth is heaven. That he must have died mere moments ago. Each scrape of your teeth makes him hiss; each hollowing of your cheek makes him want to coat your tongue in his release. His fingers knot around the rope which binds him, hearing it trying to snap under the weight of his own frustration.

It cutting, grazing into flesh, especially as you take so much of him—further than you did before. Barely two fingers worth of him not down your throat, your eyes staring at him, holding his gaze, almost commanding it.

He pulls instinctually, wanting to grab the back of your head, hold you, stroke your neck, cheek—

But, then he ruts his hips into your mouth. Forcing a gag, a cough to arise from your perfect mouth.

“Careful,” he warns, as if it wasn't his doing. His eyes spot them, little streaks of tears which stain your cheeks, all quickly, tumbling and falling to his thighs. “Y’good for me. Fuckin’ perfect, in fact. But, be careful.”

Your tongue licks up the length of him, balls tightening as you graze your teeth over the underside—before he’s enveloped by you again, all warm, inviting, and then your throat squeezes around him.

He’s falling into it, the pool of pleasure—swimming it, bathed to the neck in it under stars and an almost full moon.

He’s sure your mouth is the meaning behind paradise and torture—both perfect and vicious—and he groans, at it. At the way, you swallow around him.

And he can’t take it.

Can’t handle it—

Wants nothing more than to come down your throat and make you taste him until morning.

Cause this is different than last time, and not because it's not a trunk his back is against. But, rather, because you're moon-soaked, kissed by the night. You're a thing he swears glows in the dark, leads a man to shore from choppy waters or could force a man to walk off a cliff.

You're pretty.

It's why he also wants to bury his cock inside you. Wants to feel you squeeze him, grasp for him, whine for him. You make him want, make him desire to possess you. Even if he'll never try to cage you, never tie you down, the thought, the wish, the desire is there. Just the same as how he wants to have you on top of him, under him, even bent over for him. Anything. Everything. All of it, all of you, all—

Mouth lifting off, your eyes glimmer, something there, growing behind your eyes. Spit tying you to him, a bead beginning at the tip of his leaking cock and ending at your swollen, puffed bottom lip.

Then you sneer. Devilishly, all fucking cunningly. “What did you think earlier, Miller?”

Hand taking him, wrapping it around as it moves in fluid motions. Grip how he likes it, a teasing speed that leaves him hovering there, so close to seeing a galaxy of his own and covering your face in his gratitude.

“Miller,” you mutter. "What, did you, think earlier?"

His throat goes dry, bone dry. Like those times when he hadn’t drunk for hours. And he pulls at the rope, wishing to tear himself free and silence your questioning by pushing you down, cheek to the side, sliding his cock inside you until you’re drunk on him, unable to think, ask.

He can feel his skin bruising, marks lacerating against flesh as he grunts at your knot. One he taught you, made you practice—something he knows you must remember from the wink you suddenly shoot him. And he knows from the smirk that cuts across your beautiful face, that the only way he’s going to get any release—is by telling you. Spilling the thing which should die in his throat, blacken, melt down into other things he’ll maybe one day tell you.

“If you want to come—“

Jaw gritting, he swears he could grind his teeth to dust.

Your hand remains poised, but not moving. His name leaves like a spell, but he knows it's draped in poison. Can tell from how it contaminates the air and makes him curse under its potency.

"Joel."

“Fine. I thought—thought y’prettier than the stars. Prettiest—fuck—” Your head dips, sliding the tip of your tongue along his slit, “—thing I’ve ever seen.”

Lifting up from him, bottom lip sliding across your upper lip—painting that in a mixture of his pre-come and your spit too—you slowly smile. “Wasn’t so hard now was it?”

Gritting his teeth, your breath ghosting over his mouth, eyes locked on him. Burying something light, warm, fucking lovely in his soul.

“Cut. Me. Free.”

Tilting your head, he sees your brow lift.

“Now.”

You blink, a thousand universes swirling in your eyes before you move for your knife. “Now?”

“Fuckin’ now, baby.”

You don't blink at the name, you just press the blade against his skin, so close to veins. Yet, he trusts you. More than he thought he would another person, another soul that wasn’t bound to his by blood.

Each slice of the blade against the rope cut through the air, his strangled breaths fading, even as his cock twitched, pleading for release. His eyes just remained on you—the maths of how he’d move you already calculated—watching the vein in your neck, the way spidery shadows cast on your face from your tear-stained lashes.

He felt the rope go slack before your knife stopped, moving in a flash, knife clattering as he flipped you onto your back. Hovering above, likely lit up by the stars and the moon—leering down on you, watching your chest rise and fall.

“So, you think I’m pretty?”

He growls, the button popped on your jeans before he rips them down as much as he can, moving enough to let you kick yourself free, before he plunges his tongue in your open mouth. Tasting, taking, robbing you of the words that you just spoke, the ones which made you cocky. Even if they were true.

But, he wasn’t good—was an animal, a thing carved from grief and the end of days. But then, you were in your own right too. Something that gnashed, scratched, and buried the softer parts of you deep under layers that had taken him months to unearth. To even find, locate.

The animal in you is what made him want to devour, but it was the softness that made him stand in front of you when branches crunched. It was the latter that made him want to pin you down against stiff surfaces and have you feel good, feel adored.

Taking his cock in hand, he drags the head against your soaked folds. Your slick coating him, sliding up and down, watching you, studying you—a sight full of stars, twinkling, pleading. Nails digging into his hips, an order, a demand.

In one thrust, he slides deep into you. Makes you his, like he does whenever you ask him to, when he can, each chance he can get. Never tiring of it, of you.

A thing he could say, fill your pretty little head with it and then fuck it outta you.

“Thinking about how much you like me, Miller?” you whisper, fingers moving up to scratch at his curls, to wrap them around your fingers. “Or, is it more than like, is that what it is?”

A tug, a swallowed groan. His mouth is on yours again—different than before.

A change, a thing the two of you never used to do, but one you do more frequently. Another thing he doesn’t hate. The change happened, and he realised he didn’t want to go back to the time before it. Not when your tongue plunged in his mouth feels good. When you lick at the back of his teeth, flooding his mouth with the taste of salt and remnants of the canned food from earlier.

“Thinking about how y’the most frustrating thing I’ve ever had under me.”

“Would you have it any other way?”

Buried to the hilt, fingers clasped around the space just above your collarbone, he stares into your eyes—wondering if the stars are ever jealous they never get to live in them.

No, he growls.

Your mouth falling open, a moan there, building on your tongue as he hits that spot—knows it, can tell from the way you lightly gasped. It is further evidenced by the way you grasp his hips, almost pinching when he drops onto his forearm above your head, freeing a hand.

“I do like fuckin’ y’under the stars.”

What began as a narrowing of your eyes, ended with a widening. The way it plays out could make him surrender to you every time, render him useless, even heal a shard of him that he thought was long since ruined.

Then, your mouth drops open, a moan emerging—rearing its head in an almost whine-filled cry, as he sticks a finger in, rolling it over your tongue, coating the pad of him in your spit before he slides his hand between your bodies.

And he knows you won’t last long. Not from the way you're clamping down, from the sounds you make—all beautiful, each rich, and fucking sweet. It’s why he drops his voice low, mouth to your ear, grunting your name, that you’re perfect, prettier than a sky full of stars—all the while drawing quick circles on your bundle of nerves, his hips maintaining a constant speed.

“Close, m’close,” you cry out, back arched into him, fingers finding refuge in his hair, face pinned by your forearms.

I know, he thinks, feeling you reach your pinnacle, hovering, hanging, before he delivers one quick thrust and you’re hurtling, spasming. Your body twists as your walls clench around him, coming on his cock, unravelling entirely as he picks up his speed, as he removes his hand from between you for leverage as he fucks into you. Just a few more, knees throbbing even through the pleasure, before his hips stutter, and he’s spilling inside of you, your name cutting into the air, scratching into it, marking it with each letter that makes it up.

Even before he collapses beside you, before breaths are caught, and your head finds that spot on his shoulder, that it’s coming. A look or your tone, that hint of gentleness you otherwise keep bottled up.

So he waits. Listen to the way your heart calms in your chest and your head feels heavy on his bone.

“Your secret is safe with me, Miller,” you whisper, not turning to look at him, just staring through the open hole of the train. “I won’t tell a soul you have a heart.”

Snorting, he swallows. “No one would believe ya if y’did.”

You hum, letting out a gentle breath.

And he just swallows the good he had almost whispered. Because if no one knows, it’s a thing people won’t try to take. And he can’t let you lose another thing, not when he’s sure the whole part of what remains of his heart, belongs to you.

an: hope you liked this. i am a whore for the moon and the stars.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 4

Source for pic

Trouble 4

Word Count: 4785

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: Chapter four and we're starting to see weird things happening more frequently...! I hope you're enjoying this story! I'm so sorry my updates aren't more frequent!

Masterlist

Nothing. There’s just… nothing there.

Yet you simply can't shake the uneasiness that has settled in your stomach. You know you're being watched. You feel it prickling your skin, making your breath hitch and your heart pound faster. 

Whatever - whoever - it is, it's close. What does it - they - want? 

“Hey there Troublemaker–”

“Shit, Zoro!” You don't even let him finish his catchphrase before jumping high in the air. He scared you shitless. 

“Whoa, calm down.” Zoro raises his hands defensively when he sees you jump out of your skin. “I just came over to see if you were all right.”

Pressing a hand against your chest, you will your heart to slow down, your eyes still scanning the trees for any movement or piercing gaze. 

“Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks.” You mutter, your lips pressed thinly together, a clammy feeling washing over you, leaving you feeling tainted. You hug yourself and force a smile, finally letting your eyes meet Zoro's. “Let's go back.”

You take a step forward, but Zoro's hand grasps your upper arm, his eye scrutinizing you from top to bottom. “You're acting weird, Trouble. What's going on?” Then he sets his sights on the trees, and you sigh. 

“It's probably nothing. I just feel… watched. It's strange.”

Zoro lets go of your arm, and you feel vulnerable, letting out an involuntary whine as a slight discomfort settles in while he takes a step towards the trees. 

“Hang back. I'll check it out.” You open your mouth to protest, but he's quick to enter the dense greenery, one hand patting his back before he curses, realising he didn't bring his gun to a picnic. 

After what feels like forever, Zoro emerges with a shrug. “There's nothing there, Trouble. Maybe it was some animal?”

Definitely not. 

“Yeah, maybe. Let's go back.” You still feel on edge, but since Zoro did a sweep of the area, you feel somewhat safer. 

When you get back, the crew is packing up as the sun sets on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the scene. You help out while Luffy, Barto, and Chopper slow things down with their antics. 

By the time you pack all your things and get to the parking lot, stars have already begun to dot the sky, and the view is magnificent. It takes a moment of distraction for Nami to start the car, lower the window, and call out. “Zoro will get you home safely, honey. Have fun!” 

Then she speeds out of the parking lot, leaving you and Zoro staring at her dwindling car with amused expressions. 

“She's hopeless.”

“She's not subtle at all.” Zoro adds with a dry chuckle. And when you stare at him, your stomach churns for a very different reason than the earlier unease. It's an eagerness you can barely contain. You feel something’s about to happen. You know it, Zoro knows it, it's just a matter of time. 

He opens the car door for you, and you step in with a small smile. “Thank you, Officer.” The smirk he graces you with lingers on his lips as he slides into his seat and starts the car. 

The ride to your house isn’t long, and the tension between you seems to stifle the air in the small car. But it’s not awkward. Instead, it’s thrilling. 

“How’s the job hunt going?”

Zoro asks to fill in the gaps of all the unsaid words between you.

“Oh, I haven’t told you?”

“You found something?” His eye flickers from the road to you for a moment before you shake your head.

“No, I’ve put a hold on it. My dad is going to the South Blue for a horse exhibit with his neighbour, and I need to take care of the chores and animals.”

“You'll be alone?” Now his head turns fully to you before he directs his eye back to the road. You shrug and smile.

“Nah, with Ace.”

The car jerks as Zoro suddenly presses the brakes, and you gasp, clutching the seatbelt strap. He coughs slightly, muttering something about thinking he saw a cat, before clearing his throat.

“Ace?”

“Yeah, he usually helps my dad with the chores, so he’ll help me when I need it.”

“Oh… Oh!” Zoro’s ears turn slightly red as he clears his throat again. “I thought… never mind!” You raise your brow and study his expression, but now he’s refusing to look away from the road. Did he think Ace was going to stay with you in your house? Was that it? “Still, you alone, doing farmhand chores? Recipe for disaster if I ever saw one.”

You scoff, raising your chin in defiance. “I’m a big girl, Officer Zoro, it may not look like it, but I can take care of myself.”

Zoro snorts, and you feel offended. “No, you can’t.”

“Hey!” 

“Paperwork on my desk before the week ends. I just know it.” He sighs, closing his eye for a second longer than needed. “It’s fine, no need to insist, I’ll check in on you to see if you’re alive at the end of each day. Even if it's just a text.”

The giggle that escapes your lips is completely involuntary. 

“I’ll be fine, you overprotective teddy bear.”

“Oi? What did you just call me?” You laugh again as he parks the car in front of your house. He’s so easy to rile up. 

“You need to stop trying to control all my wrongdoings, Zoro. I'm going to fall, I'm going to get hurt, I'm most definitely going to bruise from bumping into something sometime between now and tomorrow. It's life.” You say with another giggle as you exit the car. 

Though you don't actually mean it. Zoro worrying about each step you take and protecting you from the most inconspicuous things is very endearing, to say the least. 

Quite heart-swelling, to say the most. 

But no, not romantic as the girls mentioned at the picnic. You're not going to go there… are you? 

“No, Trouble, that's your life. And I'll say it again, I have no idea how you're still alive after all these years.” Zoro sighs as both of you climb the steps to your porch, the air growing more and more charged by the second. “If it's up to me, though,” he stops at the top and faces you, using his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Life won't bruise you too hard. I won’t allow it.”

Crap. 

That was romantic. Hella romantic. 

Shit. 

Nami and the girls were right. And, frankly, you're not opposed to it. Nor to the kiss that seems about to happen again as you can't seem to take your eyes off each other. 

Instead, you stumble on the step as you try to bring yourself closer to Zoro, and he shifts his stance to steady you. That's when his eyes dart to the floor, and he raises a brow. 

“What is that?” Zoro points to a gift box neatly tied with a silk ribbon. “Is that another gift? Like the ones you were talking about at the picnic?”

An involuntary sigh escapes your lips as yet another intimate moment between you vanishes into thin air. 

“Most likely.” You eye the box warily. Now that you know the gifts aren't from Zoro, they leave you feeling quite uneasy. Then, with a sigh, you move to open it, but Zoro beats you to it. 

He grabs the box and unties the ribbon, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper. Then he looks at you quizzically, turning the box upside down and shaking it theatrically. “It's empty.”

What? 

You’ve never received an empty box. No note, no gift. What could it mean? Who would even bother to leave an empty box by your doorstep? 

Zoro turns the box upright again, as if it could magically sprout a gift. But when it doesn't, he tosses it with a dramatic flip into the trash can at the bottom of the steps. 

“Keep updating me on these gifts, will you? If they start being too much, or seem threatening, or something like that…?”

Hands wrapping around your arms, you force a shaky smile. “Nothing of the sort so far. Just sweet gifts. They don't seem threatening, maybe the person is just shy? Afraid of rejection?”

Zoro doesn't seem too convinced. “Yeah, I don't buy it. And I don't like it one bit.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. “Jealous, are you, Officer?”

It takes an extra second for his scowl to twist into a smirk of his own. “Maybe.” And just when you think the moment is building back up, Shanks bursts through the door, his team’s scarf wrapped around his head like a bandana and a beer in his hand. By the sway of his body, he's already tipsy. Beckman is leaning against him, either to support Shanks or himself since, judging by his own sway, he's also drunk. 

“We won! Bug! We took the championship!”

You sigh, declaring time of death on your romantic goodnight kiss. Shanks is already wrapping Zoro in an unwanted one-armed hug and you can't stop a giggle from leaving your lips. 

“That's great, Dad. Now, please let Zoro go home.”

“Mr. S.” Zoro starts, though his tone is doubtful. “Did you, by chance, hear anyone coming to your porch?”

Shanks grins, letting go of Zoro, and smirks at you. “Only you two lovebirds. The heavy tension you’ve got going on is louder than a thunderstorm.” He gestures vaguely to the small space between both of you and you take a step back, biting your lower lip to hide a smirk. 

Then Shanks glues his mouth to Zoro's ear, who sighs and runs a hand over his face, already bracing for what's coming. 

“You should kiss her.” His laugh turns into a weird giggle, and you raise your brow, placing a hand on your hip and looking at Beckman like he's the one at fault. “Just don't tell her dad, he's a bit overprotective! Shhh!”��

Zoro grumbles something under his breath that greatly resembles, ‘I was trying to, but you interrupted…’ when Beckman grabs the scruff of Shanks’ shirt and pulls him inside. 

“All right, all right, leave the lovebirds alone. Let's grab another beer and watch the highlights!”

After a bit of protest, Shanks gets dragged inside. You sigh and place your hand on the handle, whatever prospects of romance building back up are quickly drowned by team chants and loud burps coming from inside the house, so Zoro waves a quick goodbye before returning to his car and you enter your house with a wide grin. 

It wasn't a bad day at all. It could've ended better, that's true, but the intent was there. And so is the weird fluttering in your stomach. Could this thing that's beginning between you and Zoro really blossom into something more? 

-*-

After a quick shower, you put on your pajamas and check your phone. You were only away from it for a little more than fifteen minutes, but it was enough for Zoro to reach out. 

Zoro: Just got home. How many more bruises have you gotten in all the time I was away? 

A giggle leaves your lips before you answer him. 

You: None whatsoever!  You: Damn.  You: Just bumped my shin climbing into bed. I blame you for this, you know? 

He's quick to answer, and you let your body fall back on the mattress, one hand still rubbing the sore shin. 

Zoro: Damn it, Trouble. Can't leave you alone for a full minute.  You: Maybe you shouldn't… 

Shit. Maybe that was too forward. 

Crap. It was definitely forward, seeing as the three little dots keep appearing and disappearing. Shit. Crap. Balls. 

Zoro: Maybe I won't. Stay safe until then, Trouble. 

Oh… Oh! 

He was definitely flirting back. A tiny squeal leaves your lips as your fingers hover over the keyboard. 

BANG! 

You gasp, the phone dropping with a muffled thud against the mattress as you get up, one hand on your chest, trying to steady your racing heart. 

What the hell was that? 

It sounded as if something crashed right into your window. With fear holding your body ransom, you take one shaky step towards the window. You reach out your hand, fingers trembling, before grasping the curtain and pulling to the side. Your first instinct is to look outside, but the dim light from the moon and stars isn't enough to reveal much. 

Until your eyes fall on the windowsill, and another gasp escapes your trembling lips. 

A bird. 

A mixed feeling of relief and sorrow fills the gaps between the uneven beats of your heart. You don't quite know what you expected, but it wasn't a dead bird. Though you feel sorry for the poor thing. 

Collecting an old t-shirt, you open the window and wrap it around the tiny thing. It's a robin, poor little creature. You can't help but feel sorry for the way its neck is twisted. It must've broken it when it flew against your window. 

Putting on slippers, you descend the steps to bury the bird outside, and can't help but smile at the two unconscious, snoring men on your couch. 

It takes a full fifteen minutes for you to dig a small hole and place the bird inside. Then, it takes another five minutes to wash your hands, place blankets over both men, and return to your room. 

But it's not until almost an hour later, when you're teetering on the edge of sleep and exhaustion, that your tired brain registers something important. 

Robins are morning birds. 

-*-

Come morning, the weird events from last night are stored in the dusty, barely visited basement of your mind. What lingers front and center is the way you and Zoro almost kissed again and how blatantly you flirted. 

Sunday rolls by lazily, and you and Zoro text some more, getting reacquainted on music, food, and movie tastes. There's more in common between both of you than you remembered. 

You find out he did create a Kendo club after you left school, and that he owns several awards for sword-wielding. He's quite good at it, apparently. When you ask if he's the best, he gets salty and says his Captain still holds that title. But not for long, he adds, cocksure, making you giggle. 

Your dad leaves Monday, and you won't admit to him that you're worried sick he's going to throw his back out and be half a world away from his doctor and from you. Instead, you plaster a fake, happy smile and ask Beckman to please take care of him. 

There's a gift waiting for you on the porch, and you're not quite sure if it was there when you left the house to walk your father to the car or not. 

Looking around, eyes darting towards every corner, every tree, every half-hidden nook and cranny, you will your heart to calm down. It's just gifts. Harmless gifts. 

The ribbon on this box seems more tattered and haphazardly tied up than the other ones you got, but maybe your admirer was in a rush? 

It's a teddy bear. 

And as you toss the box and its contents into the nearby trash can, you pretend not to have noticed that the teddy bear is missing one ear. You also pretend that the fact doesn't bother you. Nor does the clenching of your heart or the uneasiness in your stomach. 

They're just harmless gifts. 

Nothing else. 

You're safe. 

-*-

“What do you mean, a yacht?”

You shove a potato chip in your mouth and chew loudly as you go around the house, methodically closing up latches and locks, like you've been doing the past week. 

“Like a real one!” Nami says, exasperated. “Franky builds boats for a living, and he’s been working on his dream boat for a while: The Thousand Sunny. It’s finished now and he wants to throw a party to honour it.”

Ground floor check. You turn off the lights, and stop by the kitchen to fill your mug with water, and store the chips in the cabinet before climbing the steps of the eerily quiet house.

“I’m down! Sounds fun to me.”

“Right? Franky will be taking it to sea, too, and Usopp says he has new fireworks he wants to test. Sanji will cook the food, and the rest of the guests will bring booze!” She cheers on the other side of the line as you reach your room and close the curtains.

“The rest of the guests? I thought it would only be the usual gang…”

“Just a few more people, I think…” She says it so casually that you already know a few more people means at least twenty more people. A resigned sigh leaves your lips. It will still be fun.

“M’kay, thanks for the invite, Nami.” You yawn. “I’m going to get my beauty sleep now, talk tomorrow?”

Nami hums in agreement on the other side, knowing that you have to get up with the call of the rooster to get all your chores done. “Bye, love!”

As soon as the quietness envelops you - now that Nami’s cheery voice is gone - you feel your stomach heavy with dread. Spending the whole week alone in this huge house has brought you a feeling of apprehension and unease. 

The house seems larger and, at the same time, more stifling. The shadows seem menacing, and the hidden corners feel like traps. You have never felt this way from being alone before, not even when Ichiji left for business trips for days in a row - though you knew he left some of his bodyguards behind - so why are you so scared now?

The barn door creaking outside feels like the loudest sound in the world, and you freeze. You closed it. You know you latched it.

You tiptoe to the window again, hand hovering around the fabric before you lick your lips and, with a deep breath, draw the curtains back. 

The door is wide open.

What the hell?

You clutch the phone you still haven’t put down like it’s a lifeline, like it can keep you grounded as your eyes dart around the yard, using the dim light you left on the porch and the one on the barn as a guide, but there’s nothing out there.

Nothing but the big barn door swinging on its hinges.

And inside… what…? A shadow?

You open the window slowly, feeling your heart drumming against your chest, so hard you can almost bet it will tear a hole open in your sternum. Could it really be a shadow?

You lean further, holding your breath, counting your heartbeats to keep you grounded…

And then your phone rings.

You let out a yelp, sneaking your head back inside and dropping the phone on the floor, the quietness of the house disrupted by your loud ringtone. It takes a few shallow breaths and sitting on the floor before you can pick up the call.

“Hey, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

“Zo… Zoro!” You manage to shake out his name, still scared shitless, your hand clutching your shirt against your chest. 

“What’s wrong, Trouble?” His tone changes from playful to worried in a millisecond. 

“I… I…” You get up, your eyes immediately darting back to the barn. “I think there’s someone out there. The barn door, I’m sure I closed it and it’s open now and–...”

“I’ll be right there, don’t hang up.”

You nod against your phone, even though he can’t see you. Somehow, his words are already calming you, and the fact that he’s on his way over sends a jolt of warmth through you.

“I’m sorry, Zo. I didn’t want to trouble you, maybe it’s nothing, I can go down and–...”

“Stay where you are.” He grumbles, and you hear his car starting. “You’re not taking that risk. I’m on my way.”

As the minutes tick by and Zoro keeps talking to you, you start to feel silly. Maybe you did forget to latch the door. It happened that other time with Zoro, right? Though you’re also sure you locked it then…

It’s probably nothing.

You should go down.

“I’m going downstairs, Zoro. I’ll meet you there.” You say, and before he can protest, you hang up.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way out of the house, shivering once the crisp air surrounds you. Your phone rings again in your hand, but this time you don’t get scared before you pick up the call. “I’m fine! Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing.” You say to Zoro on the other side of the line.

“Trouble! I’m literally five minutes away. Don’t you dare move away from that fucking house.”

Shit, you managed to make him upset.

“Fine!” You say, yet your feet take you a step further. You’re alone in a farmhouse, you can’t call big, scary Zoro everytime you hear a loud creak or see a shadow. You’re an independent, self-sufficient woman.

You got this.

“You’re walking towards the barn, aren’t you?” His tone is more resigned than angry this time. “Wait for me, damn it!”

“I’m waiting!” You lie and take another step. You’re sure the shadow you saw was just one of the cows. It had to be.

“Lie to me one more time, Trouble…” The warning tone in his voice should tell you he’s not playing around, but you don’t listen. You actually feel braver than ever. What are you trying to prove? That you can take care of yourself?

Then why did you ask for Zoro’s help as soon as you heard him on the phone?

The barn is one step away. You reach out your hand to stop the swaying door, and the light above you flickers ominously. You can hear Zoro grumbling on the other side of the line, but as you take the phone away from your ear to turn on the flashlight, his words are inteligible. 

Besides, he’s surely cursing your stupidity.

He’s not wrong, though.

You take a cautious step inside and try to turn on the lights, but they don’t work. Is it a coincidence? Or something else entirely?

Moving with the help of the flashlight, you take more steps forward, your heart thumping loudly now. Maybe you really should wait for Zoro, since all the previous bravado you were feeling flew out the window when the lights didn’t turn on. 

You’re about to turn on your heel when the barn door shuts with a loud bang, and you gasp, dropping your phone in the process and losing the only source of light inside the barn. 

A scream stays lodged in your throat as you fall to your knees, hands tapping the straw scattered on the ground and searching for your device. The barn is stifling hot now, the air staler. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, and fear grips your bowels. You really should have waited for Zoro. 

You’re sure it’s just your mind playing tricks, but you can almost feel hot breath against the back of your neck. A small whimper leaves your lips as you shake your head, one hand furiously wiping the stray tears that somehow escaped your eyes without you even realising it. 

Deciding to come back for your phone later you start to crawl towards the door, the dim light from outside seeping through the cracks in the wood, serving as a small guide and a gentle comfort, but it doesn't quite serve the purpose of illuminating the dark. 

And then you feel something thread through your hair.

The scream that was lodged in your throat comes out loud and uncaring. And then the door bursts open, clarity inundating the small space as terror grips you.

“Trouble?” Zoro’s eye locks on you, his expression steely and determined as he takes two steps forward.

You don’t trust your voice enough to speak, but you fall on your butt, eyes looking around frantically for the source of what touched you. Because you’re sure something - or someone - touched you. 

Zoro’s flashlight illuminates the far corners, and you don’t see anything but cows and horses. 

There’s nothing else.

And then you feel it again. Another scream threatens to come out, but it quickly turns into a nervous laugh. 

It's a freaking cow licking your freaking hair.

“What the fuck is so fucking funny?” Zoro’s voice is clipped and gravelly. He’s pissed. “Didn’t I tell you to wait inside? When will you listen to me, Trouble?”

Tears spill from your eyes as relief floods you and adrenaline drains out of your system. The nervous laugh keeps making you lips tremble, and Zoro keeps admonishing you. 

“What if there really was someone here? You could’ve been in serious trouble! What if I didn’t make it in time? What if–...”

“Nothing happened, Zo, calm down!” You finally manage to find your voice again as you get up and thread your fingers through your wet hair, making a face and wiping your hand on your pants. 

“Calm down?” Zoro’s eye widens as he approaches you, his towering frame shadowing you as he aims an angry scowl your way. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m sorry.” You say truthfully, holding the intensity of his gaze with a slight shiver. “You’re right, I should’ve waited.”

His furrowed brow relaxes somewhat, and he sighs, a softer look crossing his features as he gives you a once-over to see if you’re really fine. “Yes, you should. What were you trying to prove, anyway?” Then he flashes his light one more time towards the cows who ‘moo’ softly at him. “The lights?”

“They’re out.” You flip the switch to prove your point. “And I guess I was trying to prove to myself that I don’t need you to show up everytime I see a shadow just because I can’t stand being alone.” You whisper, looking to the floor and finally locating your phone. 

“Trouble.” Zoro takes a step forward and lifts your chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. The harshness in his voice seeps away slowly as he gazes intently at you. “I don’t mind showing up anytime you need me.” He sighs, his fingers moving along your jawline and cupping your cheek. “Just don’t go risking your safety like that anymore, okay?”

This time when your heart thrums out of beat against your chest it’s not from fright, it’s something else entirely. 

So you just nod, eyes flicking to his lips inadvertently. 

His eye strays lower too, and you take a deep breath. Then the door creaks again, breaking the silence and the moment.

“I’ll give the barn a quick check, wait here.”

This time, you do as he tells you, but he comes back quickly, having found nothing at all. Zoro does a quick sweep of your house too, since you left the door open when you went on your one-woman mission to raid the barn. Afterwards, you offer him something to drink.

You both sit at your table, a hot tea in front of you, and Zoro runs a hand over his face, his frustration still not completely gone. 

“Don’t do that again. Do you know how worried I was? What if…” He sighs, realising you’ve had this conversation earlier and giving up on lecturing you anymore. “Just wait for me if there’s ever another time, got it?”

“Sorry…” The slow sips of the beverage are the only sounds surrounding you for a while before you disrupt the silence. “So, Franky’s yacht party, you going?”

“Hmm… I’ll try. I have a late shift that I can’t get out of. I’ll probably meet you all there.”

“But the Sunny is going to be at sea then!”

“Sunny?”

“Franky named it The Thousand Sunny, it’s shorter.” You collect the mugs and place them in the sink.

“I’ll swim.” Zoro states with a smirk before getting up and heading towards the door.

“You’re joking.”

“But am I?” He stares at you for a beat before opening the door and stepping outside. “As long as you want me, I’ll always be where you are.”

He doesn’t give you enough time to react to his words before he climbs down the steps and gets inside his car, rolling the window down. “Get inside and go get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow at the party.”

You nod and get inside, realising he’s waiting for you to be safely locked in before leaving. 

However stupid you might be feeling from calling him over a shadow - that turned out to be nothing - you can’t regret it. Not when it left you feeling like you’re on cloud nine.

Tags: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22

|Chapter 5|

[fzjp]

Thinking about something angsty for coalecroux and this one... is kind of a heavy oof

It's based/inspired by a post about alligator's life expectancy versus a genasi's and if i can remember that post id link it here (and if you know it please send it to me in my DMs or replies here thank you) (edit: post was found!!! thank you quillst!!!! It was you!!!!)

Mentions (more like the main topic tbh) of death and loss, alcoholism

So I've been thinking about either Gideon or Kremy dying first, after their adventure in the feywild, they paid off their debt to Mr Garou, open up Carnivale Lecroux again or living off Mr Rosloth's (is that how his name is spelled idk) reward money

Cuz if Kremy dies first, I feel like Gideon would drink his weight's worth in alcohol daily til he dies from alcohol poisoning and/or from his drunken stupor he dies from a fight

And I know this wouldn't work cuz of the spell's description and duration BUT WHAT IF

Kremy casts Suggestion on Gideon and tells him in his dying breath, as his dying wish to his business partner, partner-in-crime of a husband, "Gid, would you kindly live for me?"

And Gideon just... lives. For as long as Kremy's suggestion lets him... and then he reunites with Kremy

If Gideon dies first, Kremy would continue living. After all, The Good Baron promised him an afterlife...

ALTHOUGH, Kremy would be more closed off to other people, even the Krew. Forcing his smiles, faking his laughs, he can hide his feelings behind his mask right? Why would other people should know he's suffering inside? He's living his life for the sake of the contract...

If and when he were to face an opponent that would be his last, he'll go guns blazing, have a "try and kill me, i beg you to kill me, end me from my misery"

Hopefully, after death, he reunites with Gideon, Gideon waiting for him by the end of Baron's domain and they enter together

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

⋆⟡˚ ཐི⋆♱ 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 ♱⋆ཋྀ ˚⟡⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: billy the kid x fem witch reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re the towns witch but everyone thinks your evil and vile, billy believes every word they say until he actually meets you; aka halloween is your time of year and billy is all for it

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: fluff, implied sex, hate, witch!reader, outlaw billy, halloween but its the wild west and they have witches (Ooooo)

𝐚/𝐧: heres my lil take on witch reader and outlaw billy who are both ousted from society, ofc witch r more than billy. hope you enjoy!

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟-𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Everybody in town knew never, ever, to go up to the cottage just past the first few lines of trees of the forest.

The townsfolk would spook their children into shivering at night for fear of the witch who would cast a spell and curse them all. The mothers would make rotten smelling bread and give it to their children saying it was a gift from the witch. The children would gag and cry about the awful gift that was more of an evil warning.

Of course, none of this was true.

Although it was fact, most definitely not fiction, that you were a witch who indeed did live past the first lines of trees in the forest, that was only because some of your herbs and plants could only be grown in the dark. It was most definitely true that you could hex and curse but you’d never make rotten bread.

Who even claimed that witches made rotten bread?

“Mmmm baby, whatever is in that there oven smells heavenly.” Spoke the man laying naked on your bed. You laughed, pulling on a smoky robe. You run your fingers through your hair, your eyes turning stark black, purple haze swirling in the starry night of your eyes as you use your ‘evil magic’ to untangle your hair.

Billy turned, his midnight blue eyes piercing you back with his bullet-like gaze. You winked over your shoulder as he started to stand up, grabbing a pair of shorts. He trudged over to you, whisking your hair away as he kissed up your neck where a tattoo of a daffodil lay fully bloomed.

It was one of Billy’s favorite parts about you, the flower symbolizing so much to you. He knew how hard it was being a ‘witch’, being outed as a “worshiper of the devil.” He knew that your own dear mother was burned at the stake for fighting for what’s right. Billy knew that your father had taken and ran with you as far away as you could at six years old, hiding your powers away from society to protect you.

And you had hidden, for nearly ten years, you had run from everything and everyone. You fled from forest to forest, your father growing weaker and weaker. You had finally stopped running when you found the cottage, nursing your father back to health. But, your father didn’t make it, dying the first night from delirium, forgetting who you were, where you were, everything. He eventually remembered before going mad from grief of losing your mother. You vowed then and there to curse all love, after all, who could ever learn to love a witch as your father had?

Yet you held hope, the magically tattooed daffodil an ode to that hope. Hope that one day you could walk freely amongst the humans, you could love freely without the burden of consequence, that you could one day break your curse.

Billy had waltzed into your life blazing hot and hazily drunk. He had been punished by the townsfolk, being thrown into the forest for the “witch to have at him.” 

Which is when he met you. He hadn’t been afraid, raising his gun to you, his blue eyes piercing right through you. Billy had been surprised when he found out the “horrid witch” who had skin green as moss and a cackle as evil as the Devil was actually just an Angel no older than him. He had lowered his revolver, laughing out at the cruel irony of it all. 

Turns out, you weren’t the wicked one at all.

“I hope you do like it, after all, I’m a rotten witch whose rolls are most certainly revolting.” You purred, spinning in his arms to face him. He smiles lazily, a huff rolling from his lips.

“Well, it's a good thing that this outlaw ain’t any better than a witch baby. ‘Sides,” he lowers his voice, biting your ear playfully before whispering in your ear, his rough and broad hands holding your arms softly, “your pussy tastes too sweet for ya t’be rotten darlin’.”

You chuckle, your legs involuntarily squeezing shut at the memories of last night's heated dinner date.

He chuckles at your reaction, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Billy walks over to where his discarded clothes lay, pulling up his trousers, barely buttoning his dark blue blouse before bringing his trousers straps up and to rest on his broad shoulders. He stands next to you, pouring himself a cup of coffee as you check on the cinnamon rolls you had baked in the oven.

You bend over, rotating the tray. Billy grins from behind you, slapping your barely covered ass. You yelp, nearly falling forward into the oven. He quickly grabs your hips, pulling you to his lower region. You stand up, turning to face him before hitting his chest.

“Billy, how dare you?!! Are you trying to get me killed??” You flail your arms dramatically.

“Guess those stories ‘bout witches getting pushed into ovens were true then, weren’t they darlin’?”

“Of course they are, who wouldn’t die if you pushed ‘em into a very hot metal oven?”

He turns the question in his head, “Ya ain’t wrong there darling.”

You huff, turning away from him mixing the frosting for the rolls. Billy walks up behind you, running his palms up and down your sides. He kisses the side of your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder. He starts to hum a cowboy song, you assume, the soothing baritone of his voice relaxing your body further into submission. All for this man. 

A true Angel among men, you thought. 

You could, and would never, understand how the world could ever put Billy through all that it had with no remorse. And people still hated and feared him?

He was as sweet as sugar and as loyal as a priest, he was kind and loving, so loving. You never could understand just how he had so much heart to love you as much as he did. 

Billy just couldn’t help it. You were amazing, incredible, truly ethereally out of this world. He thought you were a star who had fallen down to Earth, bringing light and warmth everywhere you went. 

“Mmmm, baby, ‘s so good.” Billy moaned as the white cream coated his lips.

“Billy, ya got a lil something on your lips.” You smile.

He chuckles, licking his lips, savoring the creamy frosting of the fresh cinnamon rolls that you and Billy had been eating. The cool October air seeping into your room as you sat at -your small round dining table, eating the warm and sweet rolls with your special tea.

You take a bite, the fresh cinnamon-y roll, the sweet cream topping cool on your tongue. You look up, meeting Billy’s eyes. His gaze soft and warm, heating the cold plain within your chest.

“....Is there something on my face?” You ask timidly, rubbing your chin to check for any dirt or grime.

“You’re beautiful,” he softly utters, your name like a prayer on his lips. 

You smile, taking another bite of your roll. He smiles as your black cat, Nyx, crawls onto your lap, purring softly. Surprisingly, Nyx had liked Billy from your first meeting till now. Nyx strutted her sassy cute butt across the table, head raised high as she lay on the table right next to where Billy’s hand lay.

He chuckles as his hand goes to stroke the princess head, Nyx letting out content purrs as Billy laughs even more, the sound resonating in your chest.

You summon your camera to capture the moment, Billy sitting with your cat, petting her softly with the softest smile ever as the sunlight streamed through the room giving Billy a halo. You smile as Billy turns to you after the flash of the camera, his nose scrunched and eyebrows furrowed together as his stark blue eyes close in an attempt to relieve his eyes of the bright flash of light.

You laugh as he slowly squints his eyes open, acclimating his baby blue eyes to the brightness of the world all while Her Royal Majesty Nyx has sat there, eyes peacefully closed with Billy’s broad hands splayed in her back.

“What was that for darlin’?”

“Oh nothing, just wanted to have something to remember this moment by.”

He growls, standing up and stalking over to you. Billy attacks your neck with loving bites and kisses while lifting you away and onto your bed. “I can think of another way to help ya remember this mama.”

You laugh as he unhooks his trouser straps while tugging your robe open to the cool air while Nyx struts her stuff out of the window and into your fields as laughter and groans fill the air of your little cottage.

Billy lay on you, his head laying on your belly while your hand softly cards through his brunet curls.

“Baby?”

“Mhmmm Billy?”

He sits up, his broad frame towering over your bare form laying on the bed. “Ya wanna go ‘to town?”

You chuckle, hoisting yourself up, pressing kisses along his shoulder to his strong neck. “Darling, you really think I, of all people, could just stroll into town?”

He sighs, “ ‘s just that, it's Halloween t’night and I thought, well,” he looks away sheepishly, his eyes looking out the window where Nyx had climbed back into the cottage,” though ya’d wanna come with me since they’ll be plenty of other witches around. All the kids been dressing up as of late, thought it’d be the perfect time for ya to finally come see what the towns been like.”

You stare at him, blinking. How long has it been since you’ve seen the town? How much could that awful place have changed?

“Billy, as much as I love that idea, I don’t think it’ll be safe. Who knows what they’ll do as soon as they realize that I ain’t dressed up as a witch but actually am one?”

“Pretty mama, my baby, lovely,” he kisses your head before resting his forehead against yours, his calloused palm holding your face softly,” y’know I won’t let anything, an’ I mean anything, take ya away from me, right?”

“Yea, of course. Not that you need to protect me, I can do that myself. Been doing that myself.” Your eyes flash midnight, mesmerizing Billy.

“Baby, lemme help you, yeah?” His balmy hands reach up, rubbing your shoulders up and down as he pulls you to him. You wrap your arms around him, taking in the musk and honey of Billy, drowning everything out with his heat.

You mumble a small “okay,” satisfying Billy.

“And as much as I love ya naked darlin’, Imma need you to cover up for the rest of the townsfolk.”

You snicker, spalling his chest before standing to get ready. You grab the darkest dress you have, to enhance your witchy vibes, and grab a purse filled with coin just in case.

You and Billy walk through the trees, carefully entering the town’s outskirts where children had already begun to collect candy and participate in party games on folks’ lawns. You smile, wrapping an arm through Billy’s, holding onto him for security of mind and body.

Billy leads you to the center of the town where all the festivities lay. Smashing pumpkin contests (which Billy entered just for you winning 1st place) and apple bobbing contests where you dunked your head in water trying to get an apple twixt your teeth (you had frightened everyone there by using your magic to stay underwater for longer). There were even axe throwing and shooting contests. Needless to say, to make you happy, Billy had entered and won each contest, bringing you back a fruit or stuffed animal each time. 

You continued on through the town, a show all about witches, highly incorrect you told Billy, playing at the theater on your path. You had even watched the poor little girl, an accused witch, ‘burned at the stake’ by the townspeople in the play. It was certainly informative to say the least.

At least you knew to steer clear of fires for a bit.

Billy took you too all his favorite spots, the big apple tree in the apple orchard, the bakery owned by a woman as sweet as his own late mother, and even where he ranched and the barn, which was open as a petting zoo, where he would frequently work.

You laughed as everybody treated you as a normal human, not some satanic heretic. You smiled as Billy took you around town, reveling in the fresh air of humans. You nearly cried when it all came to an end. 

You and Billy ended up on the dock of the local lake where all the ‘young folk’ swam, your legs dangling together in the cool water.

“Thank you, Billy.”

“For what baby?”

You turn to him, his eyes as dark and starry as the night sky that blanketed the sky. “For everything, for making me feel alive. For making me feel seen and real. For taking me out today even though it was dangerous.” You pause, smiling up at the moon, thanking your mother and father for sending down this man, this Angel, to you. “Thank you for today Billy. I had lots of fun.”

He leans down, kissing you fervently on your velvety lips. “Course baby. I’d do anything for ya, I love you.”

You look up into his eyes, kissing him lightly. “I love you too Billy.”

[fatfuckingcatstuff]

FUCK ME DEAD

SniperTF2 x TeenMerc! Reader

((Year is set in the 2020s))

Tags: Brainrot slang, fluff, platonic relationship, reader consumes tiktok media brainrot and tries to infect sniper

"Fuck Me Dead" is an Australian slang for ffs so please don't misinterpret it as an NSFW fic.

NOT PROOFREAD

Ever since you got the job working as a mercenary for 2 old fucks fighting for a piece of land it's been pretty fun. When you were first offered a position it was equicoval. Why the fuck were they offering a minor a job in a battle-like field? Was this even a legal operation??? Nonetheless, you accepted the offer.

After a good few months of working with your team, you've managed to form a bond with most of them. More specifically, Sniper. The Australian raised New Zealander had become your best friend. Or at least to you. Despite being a introverted fuck when it came to people in general you had managed to get on his good side.

You've hung out with him, watched videos on the Internet together. Though he could never understand "what you kids mean these days", he liked spending time with you.

"Sniper." you called out from his door frame.

"Whaddya want you ankle biter." He replied, visibly cleaning his gun after the day's match.

"Do you have skibidi rizz."

He's stunned by your words and turns to look at you concerningly.

"Mate what? Skibidi rizz..?"

"You have a negative canthal tilt and poor features have you tried looksmsxxing or mewing?"

“What the bloody hell is a looksmaxxing???"

"You look like a true autumn lowkey. Wanna be in my OOTD for my GRWM where I show my new Stanley cup I just got?"

".. Wha-"

"Level 5 gyatt rizz LeBron James you are my sunshine my only sunshine tiktok rizz party she ride the dick like a carnival digital circus pomni rose toy edging mewing streak gooner cave is it acoustic? Tiktok shop Ohio sigma tshirt am I deer pretty or bunny pretty. "

"Sheila wai–"

"are you an alpha or a beta male. And swear it on skibidi."

At this point you would have already killed the poor soul because what the fuck were any of the words you just spat out at him. Did you cast a spell on him?? You.. you witch???

"Mate did you hit your head." He stares at you horrified and concerned for your mental state.

".... No."

"I think you should go see medic."

[megamindsecretlair]

A Taste of the Divine, Teaser

Pairing: Yakuza!True Form!Sukuna x Black!Fem!reader/ plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. Angst. Plot with filthy smut. Mentions of violence against women. Kidnapped reader, dark elements. Monster fuckers unite. Consensual but power imbalance.

Summary: Sukuna is the mysterious leader of the Itadori Clan. When he gets his hands dirty, striking against a rival clan, he runs across a woman held captive. He cannot strike her, so he takes her to his apartment to learn what spell she has over him.

Word Count: 892

A/N: Zooted hours will always get me in trouble. I blame (affectionate) @westside-rot for my brain rot. Chuz she showed me a fanart and now I need to exorcise this from my mind 😩

Taglist: @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @harmshake @umber-cinders @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi

Like he's the boss, obvs , but he's also a boogeyman in near future Japan, so high tech a bit with an old school flavor. He takes care of his enemies by eating them. He planned ahead for one of his enemies, but the enemy had the nerve to step into Sukuna's territory without a word ahead for permission. He follows this enemy to a normal house where he ambushed his enemy but notices a random woman already locked up, blindfold, etc. Sukuna is curious, first time in a while, so he spares the girl and brings her to his place.

Over the course of some weeks, he asks this girl who she is and she just keeps saying nobody. He's frustrated but for some reason, he doesn't want to kill her. A new one for him because on anyone else, he'd have lost his patience and killed them.

Also over the course of these weeks, he's drawn to her, to her stories, to the fact that she doesn't look at him like a monster. Not that she can see past the blindfold. But she's scared and yet brave enough to touch him, talk to him, demand nothing of him. Not even her freedom. She's too accepting. Too nice. Too sweet. And he wants to stamp that sweetness out. He wants to snuff it like the wick of a dying candle.

Every night he enters the room intending on ending the morbid curiosity. He cannot live like this. Not when he's trying to expand his empire. Become a king amongst peasants. He cannot be beholden to a nobody. And yet, every night he is stopped in his tracks by the sight of her shy but kind smile. The way her head tilts towards him like she's expecting him. Like she's...excited to see him.

And he finds himself revealing things about himself, about his life. And he allows her more freedom. He lets her bathe often, let's her get a little sun, feeds her better. He learned his lesson about leaving her hungry too long.

He wants to know everything about her. Every thought, every wish, every dream at night. He fantasizes about kissing her, to the point of distraction, to the point that he attends his meetings and can't hear anything over the sound of his heart, miles away, tucked into his apartment and she doesn't even know what he looks like. It's maddening. It's frustrating.

Does she think as he does? Does her heart beat faster when he's near and slow down while he is away? Like a string that somehow connected them both. He had to end it. He had to get rid of the problem.

Get rid of her and his nightmare could finally end. He would bow to no one, dream of no one, be consumed by no one. He rushed to his place, hellbent on carrying out this dastardly deed. He had to exorcise her from his psyche. Cleanse himself of this witch who surely cast a spell on him. She controlled his mind somehow, that's why his mind often turned to thoughts of her.

He entered her room. She popped up in fear and curiosity. Hell, he could smell her interest. Smell her blood too. He didn't know whether he wanted to eat her or eat her.

He pulls out his gun and brings it to her head. His finger is a whispers breath away from the trigger. She cried out, calm instead of scared. Hell, could she be more stupid? Why wasn't she angry? Why wasn't she crying or begging for her life? Why would she accept this? Who is she? What hell demon spawned her to burn him alive with?

All she does is smile at him and accept this. This cruel, cold ending. This inhumane, brutal end to a nobody. It should be fitting. It was more than she deserved. A final smile and a hand on his arm. He flexed his hand, watching her fingers dance across his skin with the movement.

It's okay, she told him. It's okay.

For the first time ever, Sukuna's hand shook and he lowered his arm. To kill you was like chopping off his own arm. He could do it, but he'd be hollow after. He placed his forehead against hers and asked her what spell she put on him.

And she answered with a soft voice, none. I wouldn't dare bespell a king.

No sooner had it left her lips did he kiss her. Giving in to the pounding of his chest and the burn in his throat to get to her.

Feel her, consume her. He ripped at her clothes and tossed her onto the bed. He fucked her, hard, punishing. The severe snap of his thighs against hers, pushing into her body with precision.

Stupid, pathetic girl. He could snap her in half and pick his teeth with her bones. And she was willingly taking him, welcoming him in her tight, dripping heat. And he'd never heard a finer symphony than the cries of her moans. He'd never tasted a finer meal than pressing his lips to hers and drinking her cries.

And afterward, when he was still around after, holding her, palm to palm, brown skin to his, he stared at the ceiling and finally understood what it was to feel fear.

Whewwwwww. Yeah ima need a series with this 😩🙌🏽The Secret Sukuna Files

[ourtalechara]

... thoughts? (Full idea under cut)

What if someone who knows how to use vocal synths like. Made a vocaloid version of Hamilton. Assign each member of the cast a character that sings for them. It'd probably be a community project if it happened, because that's a big undertaking, but it would also be more fun as a community thing. I don't really know how to use these programs, (I have tried to make Teto say things, and technically I have succeeded in making her say things) BUT I can brainstorm casting ideas with my limited knowledge of fanon Vocaloid personalities!

As indicated by the picture above Hatsune Miku would probably take the role of Hamilton. Her being the most popular Vocaloid makes her a prime candidate for title character. Also I just like the image above with Miku's silhouette on the star with her name.

Idk who Burr would be. Flower maybe? Off the top of my head. Is there someone who it would make sense to oppose Miku in the way that Burr does? An anti-miku? Neru? Nah, I've got better plans for Neru...

You can't spell Laurens without L en. You can spell Philip without it, but that doesn't matter, he's going to be playing that role anyway. It just feels kinda natural for me, as he's pretty young and boyish, which fits Philip, and I feel it fits Laurens too. There's no Len's-relationship-to-Miku-mirrors-Laurens-relationship-to-Hamilton to this or anything, I'm pretty sure that's the case for most of these.

Lafayette is Teto this is a fact. They're both so silly and they like baguettes they're the baguette bois I need this so bad someone give me a Teto cover of guns and ships and I will love you please I feel this in my soul.

Also, I like the idea of Teto in the second act wearing a flashy red coat and debating with Miku in the cabinet. She's perfect for this role.

Mulligan/Madison? Uh. Idk. Again. Flower? Again? Maybe Fukase? I will probably form a stronger opinion on this/borrow someone else's opinion later.

The Schuyler Sisters!

I'd say MEIKO has good strong eldest sister energy fit for Angelica. Also they're both red.

For Eliza, my first instinct is to say Luka, although there's also a voice in my head saying Gumi, and there's also probably someone outside of my head who has another idea that might be better. ?

Rin has big "and Peggy" vibes.

For Washington I want to say KAITO or Guackpo, like, a tall, imposing man. KAITO would be perfect if it weren't for the fact that in most fan works I've seen, KAITO's pretty goofy, and Washington really isn't. I think that that's probably just bias though, he's not always like that. He could make a great Washington. Idk much about Guackpo but it could probably fit. He's a samurai. I don't know if that has anything to do with anything, but maybe it could.

Philip Schuyler as Neru. I initially thought of this as a joke, as Schuyler doesn't speak a word himself, and Neru has no official voicebank (I personally headcanon her as mute), but Neru as his second act counterpart, James Reynolds, could be really interesting? Neru hates Miku so much that she decides to extort her for money and ruin her career? It feels very in character for Neru to do some of this stuff in a way, it just feels right I guess.

So that's. Most of the main characters. Or all of them. Unless I'm forgetting someone. I have no ideas for side characters other than the Neru ideas. I feel like the utau default voice whose name I don't know off the top of my head should be in there somewhere. Maybe. Maybe the one with the big blue thing on her head. The young one. In positive dance time. Idk there's lots of Vocaloids and lots of characters (but there's more Vocaloids) and I need to end this post now goodbye.

[episodes-ff]

Line of Fire

**I listened to this song and immediately thought of these two. If it doesn’t play on here go listen first to set the mood then read**

Armando

Ever since our conversation about the future, Dee has been more adventurous in the bedroom. Now the sex has always been amazing but it’s like a spark lit from within her because now she wants to try more things, and who am I to say no to my princess? “Fuckkkkk, baby.” I groaned biting my lip intensely as she sucked on my neck and massaged my manhood under the sheets. “Mmmm, so big and strong for me.” She purred in my ear as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. “B-babygirl.” “Sí, papi?” She cooed in Spanish as I slowly lost it. “P-Please can I, ohhh fuck! Can I c-c-cum?” “Mmmm, not just yet.” She thought speeding up her strokes before removing her hand as I fought the urge to bend her over and punish her for playing so much. “W-when can I cum?” “Soon, baby, just enjoy the ride.” She whispered placing kisses on my torso and gripping my throat. Staring up at me with a devilish smirk, she winked at me before taking me into her mouth and sucking feverishly while choking me. “Ohhhhhhh shit!” I whimpered biting my knuckles as we tried not to wake AJ in the next room.

Sucking harder and deeper, I slipped more and more under her spell as she commenced to taking my soul. Feeling my release on the horizon, I weaved my hand into her luscious hair and began face fucking her. Taking me all in like a good girl, I lost my control more and more under her magnificent skills. “Fuck, baby, I’m bout to- ohhhhhhhh my godddd!” I panted as I shot my hot load down her throat. Swallowing it all, she wiped her mouth as I stared lovingly at the mess we made. “You look so fucking pretty, mi hermosa.” I simpered pulling her up to me and kissing her deeply. Wrapping my arms around her, I caressed her soft frame and admired all her sexy curves. “Mmmm, you’re just trying to get out of going to work.” She giggled softly pecking my lips as I squeezed and smacked her juicy ass. “Fuck, I don’t wanna go.” I pouted as she giggled and cooed. “Awww my baby. But you have to go. Who knows what adventures you might get into today?” “That’s the point. Only thing I’m tryna shoot today is my load.” I chuckled even though I wasn’t joking. I just wanted to be inside my woman expressing my love and care for her. “There’s always tonight, Daddy. Now get up, you’re gonna be late.” She smiled before crushing my dreams and walking her sexy ass into the bathroom.

Walking into headquarters, I said my daily greetings to the AMMO squad as I prepared a coffee to get my morning started. Having a seat, I placed my gun and holster on my desk before starting on my unfinished files and paperwork. “Hey, Armando? Who’s this new guy that’s supposed to be coming in today?” Dorn asked curiously from his area. “What new guy?” “You didn’t hear? Your dad and Rita were discussing some military transfer to come in. I didn’t catch his name but they say he’s a beast in the field.” “Interesting.” I chimed taking a sip and casting my gaze towards the front door as it opened. Watching Marcus come in first with three boxes of donuts, I scoffed before my focus turned to my father, Rita and who I’m assuming was the guy behind all the gossip.

“Good morning, squad! We have some exciting news for you all!” Rita started before passing the torch to Mike. “As some of you have probably heard, we have a new member coming to the team. Guys, this is Terry Richmond; he will be joining our tactical team and he will be helping shape our offensive skills when we’re in the field. Would you like to give us a few words about yourself, Terry?” “Nice to meet you guys. I am a former Marine. While on tour, I headed up M.C.M.A.P, that’s the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program.” “Wait, you’re kinda like a ninja, right?” Rafe chimed in stupidly. “You could say that.” He smirked in return as the room nodded in appreciation. “I can’t wait to see what I’m working with.” He added gazing upon the room before meeting eyes with me. “Aight, meeting adjourned.”

Terry

Getting settled in to my new position, I unpacked my personal items before setting up a couple pictures; one of me and my family as children, another of my beautiful wife, Anaya and our baby girl. Right on cue, my phone vibrated signaling a text from my blushing bride.

TeeBaby🌸💖💍: I hope you’re getting settled in and making some new connections, baby❤️ I’m so proud of you Big Daddy😘😘😘😘 I can’t wait for you to get home🫦👅

Biting my lip and thanking God for what a lucky man I was, I quickly replied back before hearing my name. “Hey, man, we about to go over some things real quick for today.” Marcus informed me as I nodded and headed out to the main floor.

“Ok crew, for today’s mission, we will be running surveillance on a drug operation on the coast.” Mike explained as we nodded in understanding. “Now this is supposed to be a non lethal mission, you guys. Do I make myself clear?” Rita asked as we cased our eyes toward Mike and Marcus. “What?!” “See how they be doing us, man?! Straight racial! That’s racial right there!” Marcus exclaimed as we shared a laugh. “Are we clear you guys?” “Yea we copy, Rita.” “Good, we need this to go as smoothly as possible. The strip club incident was a nightmare. No offense, Armando.” “None taken.” He nodded. “Ok, we’ll be sending in Armando and Terry on this one.” “C’mon, man. I’m prefect for this job.” Rafe argued back. “You’re too much of a pretty boy, Raf.” Kelly joked while he flipped her off. “Anywhoooo, you two will be joining the crew of the main boss, Deuce. I have his files right here for you so study up. Especially you, Armando.” She continued passing the folders to us to study on. “Dorn, you and Rafe will be on surveillance and tactical while Kelly, you will be playing the role of worker.” “Greaaaat.” “Deuce specializes in drug operations, prostitution, and weapon smuggling. This is a big case but we need to move smart.” Mike coached further before dismissing the meeting.

**A FEW HOURS LATER**

Waiting for the go ahead to enter, I mentally prepared myself for today’s outcome. Placing a quick call to my lady, I gave her my usual “I love you’s” and farewells before saying a silent prayer for a safe day. The only thing I hate about my line of duty is the possibility of not coming home to Anaya and our family. I hate even thinking about that shit so I just try my best to stay positive and lock in so I can do my job and go home to my happy place. “Your wife?” I heard before connecting the voice to Armando as he cleaned his gun. “Yeaaaaa, we’ve been married going on 4 years.” I smiled as I pulled out my phone to show him a picture. “That’s wassup, man.” “What about you? Family at home?” “Yea, besides Mike there’s my babygirl and our baby boy.” He cheesed showing off pictures of his girl and their son.

“Awesome, man. So Mike’s like what? Your uncle or something?” “My father.” He answered as I looked in confusion. “No offense, but ain’t you Mexican?” I asked earning a smooth chuckle. “Yea, my mother… she uh, she was Hispanic. I just found out Mike was my biological father a couple years ago. Then a little after that I found out about my son.” “Damn, that’s crazy. Well at least they’re in your life now.” Nodding, he smirked as he sat deep in thought. “Very true. That’s all about to change soon.” “What you mean?” Reaching into the dashboard of the truck, he pulled out a box containing a huge pink diamond ring. “Well I’ll be damned. Congratulations, man!” “Graciás. I lost her once before, I don’t wanna do that again.” He smiled admiring the rock. “That’s wonderful. When you plan on popping the big question?” “Tonight, so let’s make sure this shit goes off without a hitch.” “That’s for damn sure.” I conceded as we finally got the green light from the rest of the team.

**THAT NIGHT**

Walking into my humble abode, I sighed removing my backpack and vest before disarming my gun and securing it safely in it’s case. “Hey, my love.” My beauty smiled greeting me at the door with a loving hug and deep kiss. “Mmmmm, hey baby.” I cheesed holding her. “Soooo, how was it? Your first dayyyy.” She cheered making me chuckle. “It was really good. I think I’m gonna enjoy this position.” “Aww, baby, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you.” She cooed bringing my lips to hers in a soft, endearing embrace as I coasted my hands up her backside. “Thank you, gorgeous. But enough about me. How was your day?” I pondered before lifting her in my arms and carrying her bridal style upstairs.

Aight nie! Y’all enjoy🫶🏾

Tags: @violetmuses @believeinthefireflies95 @brisunique @kaylaahisthebestest- @madxlov3 @armandosbabymama @casualsludgeshoetoad @mauvecherie-writes @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @kumkaniudaku

[fairylibe]

where i’m meant to be.

1312 words. fluff. features: elbert greetia × gn! reader, alfons sylvatica, roger barel, victor (minor).

꒰ summary ꒱ elbert returns to crown castle after a week-long mission on a cruise, and all he wants is to be with you.

“the cruise is a round trip, but once you board, you will be on for the next week.”

elbert quietly listened to victor list the details of the mission he, alfons, and roger were assigned to go to, as though he were reading through a list of bullet points on a document.

“your mission is to confirm the illicit drug activities that have been reported there, and pass judgment as necessary.” with that, victor gave the three men before him a smile that was genuine, and yet somehow elusive in nature. “may you give into the darkness of your wicked hearts.”

when they exited the room, alfons let out a sigh, his lips curling into a small, wry smile. “it would seem you and i have a penchant for getting missions out in the sea.”

elbert closed his eyes, opting not to say much in response.

roger, seeing elbert’s solemn expression and the way he stayed silent, narrowed his eyes. “by the looks, you’ve got less than pleasant experiences on a ship.”

“…it’s fine. it’s just my first experience on a ship was…” elbert paused, searching for the right word to use.

before he could pin down such a word, though, alfons finished his statement. “it was so hapless, all we can do is laugh heartily when we think back on it. enough of that, though, we must prepare for this lovely cruise trip.”

“lovely, huh…”

elbert closed his eyes, ruminating on that single word alfons had uttered in sarcastic passing.

the trip would have been more “lovely,” even when they were boarding the cruise for a mission, if (y/n) was there by his side.

on the cruise, the full moon, serenely still in the sky, only observed the crimson happenings below.

“w-who are you guys?!”

when roger opened the door (by kicking it down, as “knocking wouldn’t have gotten them to open the door like that”) to a certain room hidden in the vip sector, 

alfons followed roger inside, releasing a dramatic sigh. “must you make such a violent show? i was hardly aware you did not know something very handy called a doorknob exists.”

“haha, well, politeness isn’t exactly in my dictionary when we’re dealing with bastards like these.” his glasses seemed to gleam slightly as he turned toward the group, who had all stood up from their seats by now, frozen on the spot with some pointing guns toward the crown members’ general direction, but fully prepared to book it. “besides, if you called that violent, god knows what you’d call the scene that’s about to unfold here.”

“i can only pray this doesn’t turn into a bloody mess, but more times than not, prayers are only empty words.”

when roger handled the right side and alfons the left, elbert swiftly navigated through the chaos of the crowd, pinning his ocean-blue eyes on the target — a man in an eyepatch and a scar across his cheek.

amid the chaos, he was sneaking away toward what elbert presumed was the exit.

“don’t run away.” elbert’s voice was soft, yet deep and firm at the same time.

the man jumped and turned around before he stood there, his one visible eye widening, as though enraptured at seeing something new and refreshing for the first time. it was an expression elbert detested, and yet had unfortunately grown accustomed to from his time living in the greetia manor.

please… look at me with any other eyes but those.

finally, as though the effects of a spell elbert had unconsciously casted was ebbing away, the man turned around once again to run.

“only those with no brain would stay here of their own will!”

he closed his eyes, murmured a small “i see…” and then stepped forward himself, his toes touching the man’s shadow.

only when screams and cries broke out from the room did the haunting silence fall.

a week had at last passed, and elbert was very much looking forward to return back to crown castle… of course, he couldn’t say he was the most fond of being out in the sea in general (although he favored the sight of it), and not only that…

“…to think a large whale had come out of the water, soaking elbie from the top of his head to the tips of his toes! the woe, indeed.” alfons made a dramatic show of crying.

“you got soaked from head to toe, too, al,” elbert pointed out, a small smile on his face.

“that is very true — i must applaud your proficient deduction skills.”

“you two better take a shower,” roger said, his voice laced with worry, “unless you’re looking to get sick.”

“i would very much not mind getting sick; would that not mean less physical labor?”

more than the stress of the mission, though, there was one person he so dearly missed. someone he needed to see.

right this moment.

“…i will be retiring to my room.” elbert nodded his head as a parting gesture before he turned on his heels.

there, when he opened the door, he saw (y/n) lying in a fetal position on his bed, their eyes closed and chest moving up and down rhythmically; they were fast asleep. elbert slowly approached the bed, as though he were walking toward a treasure.

“(y/n)…” his voice came out in an almost hoarse whisper. it felt as though he hadn’t said their name in years, so he repeated it over and over again, like a broken record. “(y/n), (y/n), (y/n)…”

he wanted to engrave the sound of their name on his lips within him, and he wanted to whisper it over and over.

seeing them sound asleep like this, they looked just like a statue of a deity, and drawn to them, he leaned in to plant a kiss on their forehead, their skin feeling warm against his lips.

“mn…”

it was then they stirred, their closed eyes twitching, but seemingly not awake yet.

“…i have returned, (y/n).”

his voice was soft as he watched their eyes flutter open, the color still cloudy from lethargy.

“lord elbert…?”

how he loved the way their lips sounded his name out in a drowsy whisper.

(y/n) slowly sat up, rubbing their eyes. the entire time, elbert was drawn to their slow movements, his deep ocean blue eyes reflecting them, and only them.

“i missed you,” elbert said, “a week was too long… much too long.”

even a day is too long.

(y/n) slowly reached out toward elbert’s cheek, their fingertips hesitant as they brushed against his porcelain skin. it was as though they were checking to see if he was real.

but then their eyes widened.

“wh—you’re soaking wet!”

“yes… it happened during the mission.”

“are you not cold? i can bring a towel.”

elbert shook his head.

“i want you,” he stated, his voice seeming to deepen a notch, “just you.”

(y/n)’s cheeks seemed to darken, and elbert couldn’t help but smile fondly at that.

“i-if that is enough, then…”

(y/n) wrapped their arms around elbert, pulling him into their chest. being filled with the warmth of the embrace, he closed his eyes, burying his face in their chest, taking in their scent, the shape of their body... everything.

until i drown in you.

(y/n)’s fingers made their way to elbert’s hair, combing through his wet, blond locks.

it was silent, but it was a comforting silence.

“…welcome home, lord elbert.”

to hear their whisper was like a dream — one he never wanted to end. if only the night could stay eternal, the moon stuck at its peak in the dark sky that was spotted with flickering crystals.

“mn.” elbert smiled, albeit unbeknownst to (y/n), “i’m back, (y/n).”

back home, in the place he was meant to be.

fin.

꒰ tag list . ꒱ @drachonia @weepinglycoris @letter-from-afar @candiedcoffeedrops @.comment to be added or removed!

꒰ dedication . ꒱ @aquagirl1978 @pistachiofiasco

[costelloschoice]

Mizu x Cowgirl! reader headcanons -Mizu x fem!reader -hi so I totally don't have a self insert that is a cowgirl and want to share my ideas about this LMAO -but seriously, I love this idea and idc if a cowboy wouldn't be here during this time period. We're here to have fun -comments and reblogs are appreciated :](pls I love readin comments and interacting with yall)

Sfw:

Okay so....wow

You are a completely different life form to Mizu

Your clothes? Crazy.

Your cowgirl hat will be the first thing she would notice, cause what type of that???

Leather pants with chaps on top

damn bro? who dressed you?

Your accent is also strange, why do you talk like that?

Ofc she will see you as a threat at first cause who are you and where did you even come from...plus that revolver in your side holster ain't helping

But once you proved yourself to her you don't mean harm, you're allowed to hang- you would score more brownie points with her

Mizu would def be intrigued by your backstory and why you're here in Japan

Late night talks by the fire

Even sneaking off to show her star gazing and small stories to share about the stars

Play guitar? Show off to her

Sing her songs and little bops you've learned or made on your own

Would die if you wrote one about her

You tame horses like it's nothing and its impressive to her

impressed more in you can ride without a saddle

Your lasso?

See wants to see you use it

has some thoughts of you tying up your enemies while fighting...

Once you guys develop a romantic relationship, she'll be excited but nervous

Excited cause you're great and accept her, but you guys are from two different cultures and lives

Will it work out?

Ofc it will...cause I say so

Will try on your cowgirl hat and do finger guns, even do impressions on you

Hasn't smiled this much in so long, it's like you casted a spell of some sort

Let her ride your horse with her

You have a fun side but also your serious side

Impressed when she sees you FINALLY use a sword like she taught your

speaking of that

she will force you to let her train you to sword fight instead of always relying on that damn revolver

She is impressed you can fight, but just not sword fight

Will hug and praise you in private about it later

"You should've seen yourself...You did so well, so beautiful wielding the sword,"

Will be willing to try your culture's food, even if she doesn't like it, she will appreciate it

When you get mad, and your accent gets thicker...sorry she can't keep up with what you're saying

But!!!

She loves to see you defend her, even if you're really outspoken

Specially with Taigen? Yeah, even though she can fight her own battles

Her favorite line? When you yelled at Akemi for crying too loud during the tea house situation

"Stop cryin' before I give you somethin' to cry about, girl.."

idk she loved see a spoiled girl being put in her place

but she knows you mean well

You were different but a good difference in her life <3

Nsfw:

going back to that damn lasso

wants you to tie her up, she's seen you do it and trusts you fully

would want to learn from you, for sexual and non-sexual reasons

LOVES to ride your strap

and yes

you make her follow the "hat rule"

hates it

but in the moment, she doesn't care too much, and will wear it

when you ride her? You wearin' it

now she sees why you love it

Your accent with dirty talk? Makes her weak in the knees

especially when your whisper in her ear

Your soft yet rough nature makes the sex life 10x better to her

You tell her something one night as a joke

"Save a horse, ride a cowgirl"

and she did

and loved it cause you made sure the ride was rough and wild

making love after star gazing? Yes pls

By the fire? Mhmm

Your soft voice with after care as well? Makes her so giddy and helps put her to sleep fast <3

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders Viewers' Choice #30 B: Sodom's Beast/Draco

great news everyone! life stopped kicking my ass quite as hard, so we’re back and better than ever! or at least, more employed than ever. still, that means Grailfinders is back on the menu, and to celebrate we’re solving that little tie we left off with by making both of them!

next on the chopping block is Sodom’s Beast a.k.a. Draco, the nero that never was, and never could be. I really don’t get why people thought making Maxwell’s Demon would be hard, I swear like half the roster explicitly can’t exist in a standard fate timeline, what makes him special?

anyways, gripes aside, she’s a Rune Knight Fighter to sneak in a rapid shift in perspective during her ascensions, as well as a Shadow Sorcerer to make dragons pop out of every which where while also making her wildly hard to whittle down.

check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Species and Background

I really wanted to make draco a tiefling for the horns, but we have to account for both forms of draco so that severely limits our options with going full 2024, and you never go full 2024. so with that, we’re going with Custom Lineage. this way, you get +2 Charisma to continue to exist no matter what the universe says, as well as Darkvision to clown on those pathetic humans, and the Crusher feat for +1 Strength as well as the ability to push any creature you hit with bludgeoning damage with no saves needed, and if you deal critical bludgeoning damage, everyone can pile on and get advantage on their attacks against the poor son-of-a-gun until your next turn.

Draco doesn’t do melee too often in her animations, but when she does she’s either using a giant flaming magichand or she’s a 7’ tall dommy mommy, so either way throwing her weight around is justified.

and of course, we’re using the variant Noble background for History and Intimidation proficiency.

Ability Scores

in order for draco to exist at all, her Charisma has to be pretty high, so let’s start there. after that, grab some Strength- you might not use melee often in FGO, but D&D’s another beast altogether. also we need it for multiclassing. after that is Constitution. you don’t die easy, that’s kind of why you’re here.

I mean that’s why everyone’s here, but you know what I mean.

your Dexterity is barely positive if you’re using the standard array, you’re either blasting people with magic or you’re wearing armor, either way we don’t care about getting hit too much. this means your Intelligence is a bit low- just because you probably had access to greater learning doesn’t mean you had to use it- and we’re dumping Wisdom. Nero’s wisdom was never high, and you are a walking impossibility, which can’t be good for your common sense.

Class Levels

1. Fighter 1: as I said earlier we need that sweet, sweet platemail, which means we need to start here. as a fighter you get proficiency in Strength and Constitution saves, as well as Animal Handling and Athletics. you might be a terrifying hellbeast now, but you’re still nero. I’m sure you’re even better at “handling” lions now.

first level fighters also get a Fighting Style, and while your sword is great you use it one-handed, so you get the Dueling style for +2 damage to all attacks made with a single one-handed weapon. also your Second Wind lets you heal yourself as a bonus action.

2. Fighter 2: second level fighters get an Action Surge once per short rest, letting you take two actions in one turn with no restrictions. yes, this is one of the few options in the game to cast two leveled spells in one turn, don’t let it go to your head.

3. Fighter 3: at third level you can finally become a Rune Knight, giving us one of the two options available for your golden grail ability. yeah, it turns out there’s very few ways to pretend to help your enemies while actually sabotaging them, that’s probably a little cerebral for WotC. I am of course, talking about Rune Carving. every long rest you can carve a rune into a weapon, armor, shield, jewelry, or other hand-held object. while holding or wearing those objects, you and only you can get a cool bonus, but you can also invoke the rune once per short rest for an extra special bonus regardless of where the rune is. so this is all a roundabout way of saying you can add say, a Fire rune to someone’s armor, feed them a story about how it doubles your proficiency with tools while holding it, and then when you fight them you can invoke it to stick them in chains, which is the closest we could come to stunning them like the actual skill.

yes, it’s all very tortured, but at least you can also use the Cloud rune to get advantage on all sleight of hand and deception checks, and redirect peoples’ attacks so they hit their allies, corrupting them for all of five seconds with grail mud.

the bigger (literally) reason we’re here is for Giant’s Might, which lets you grow to large as a bonus action. the rules might say you take up a 10’x10’x10’ cube now, but that’s just what being 6’1” is like. you need a lot of legroom. you also get advantage on strength checks and saves, and you deal an extra d6 once per turn when you hit with a weapon attack. you can reach third ascension proficiency times a day.

4. Fighter 4: fourth level fighters get their very first Ability Score Improvement, and we’re getting a twofer today thanks to rounding up your Strength and Charisma. more hitting, more spells, what’s not to love?

5. Fighter 5: for our final fighter level, you can fling a flurry of fisticuffs at your foes thanks to Extra Attack. it’s an extra attack, just like the title says. you may notice doubling down is a theme of this build.

6. Sorcerer 1: bouncing over to sorcerer nets you some Spells, which you cast using your Charisma. you’ve got your filler cantrips like True Strike and Blade Ward, as well as your actually useful stuff like Control Flames and Green-Flame Blade. we’re going for something of a diet paladin build this go-around, all the classic smites with none of the holiness.

but we also need some dragonfire, which is why we’re picking up Burning Hands as well, plus Mage Armor for your lower ascensions.

but that’s not all! Shadow magic sorcerers also get Eyes of the Dark, an extra-strength darkvision that comes with a free copy of Darkness in two more levels. you can cast this one with just sorcery points if you want to see through it.

you also get Strength of the Grave, letting you make a charisma save to avoid reaching 0 HP once per day, unless you drop to a critical hit or radiant damage. I wouldn’t worry overmuch about holy knights though, we’ll have… other ways of dealing with them.

7. Sorcerer 2: second level sorcerers get a Font of Magic, which is just an extra spell slot right now but we can use the points for other stuff later. also you can cast Absorb Elements now, because aside from your fire rune this is the only way to get fire on your sword for a bit.

8. Sorcerer 3: third level sorcerers get to use their sorcerer points for fun stuff like Extended and Empowered spells. the former doubles the duration of the spells and the latter lets you reroll some of the damage dice to stoke your flames even higher!

that will really help your accuracy with spells like Crown of Madness, which makes a cool crown for an enemy that also forces them to attack a random nearby creature each turn. checks and balances, y’know.

9. Sorcerer 4: fourth level sorcerers also get an ASI, and Durable is the only halfway decent constitution bonus feat left that doesn’t require another feat first, so now your constitution is higher and you roll slightly better with your hit dice- essentially if you roll below your constitution score, you can act as though you rolled that 2 instead. which isn’t great, but sorcerer hit dice are teeny, so it’ll get some use.

you can also cast Message for the chaldea-standard communicator, and you get Flame Blade! this makes a one-handed sword that probably doesn’t count for your dueling bonus but it’s stronger than a greatsword and it’s fire!

10. Sorcerer 5: at fifth level you get Magical Guidance, letting you spend sorcery points to re-roll a failed skill check. it’s not quite regular nero’s imperial privilege, but it can be helpful. and with the advent of third level spells, you get the one actual rigged present you can give an enemy, Haste! it doubles the target’s movement speed, adds extra AC, gives them advantage on dexterity saves, and they get an extra turn to boot!

obviously it would be a lot more directly useful on your party, but when you end the spell the affected person loses a turn. you can stop concentrating on a spell whenever you want.

11. Sorcerer 6: at level six, shadow sorcerers can summon a Hound of Ill Omen, a mini-dire wolf, a.k.a. our very first dragon! it can also knock people around and it gets advantage when attacking things with friends around, it also relentlessly targets a single person, passing through objects in a beeline to them, until they’re dead!

you can’t kool-aid man your way through walls just yet, but you can use Ashardalon’s Stride to keep up, and deal damage at the same time.

12. Sorcerer 7: seventh level sorcerers get fourth level spells like Banishment. if your target fails their charisma save you can slap them back to whatever heaven they came from, and if you keep concentration for a full minute they have to stay there.

13. Sorcerer 8: use your next ASI to become an Elemental Adept, letting your fire-based spells ignore resistances, and you can bump any 1 rolled up to a 2. if we’re going all-in on one element, it had better be hot.

you also get a more permanent solution to your holy people problem with Gate Seal, to prevent those sorts of summons in a 30’ cube for a full day. screw gods, deliver until nero that which is nero’s.

14. Sorcerer 9: ninth level sorcerers get fifth level spells, so we can finally summon an actual dragon. or at least we can Summon Draconic Spirit. for up to an hour, you can make a dragon that’ll fight on your side, but like most modern summoning spells it’s very undertuned. it has less HP than you do, for one. still, a dragon is a dragon!

15. Sorcerer 10: tenth level sorcerers get another kind of metamagic, like Heightened. this forces a target to reroll their save against your spell, which given your biggest get-out-of-divine-punishment-free card is a save or suck spell, that will be seeing a lot of use.

you can also cast Friends partly because I was running out of cantrip ideas, but ignore that because you also get Bigby’s Hand! Whether it’s baby draco’s big slapper or the mouth of a dragon, you can reflavor this baby in plenty of ways, so have fun and go wild.

16. Sorcerer 11: eleventh level sorcerers get sixth level spells, and to be honest I’m sick of trying to copy draco’s skills or bio stuff, let’s get some damage and some animations. Sunbeam is a giant freakin’ laser that can blind enemies, and you can keep shooting lasers out for up to a minute after casting.

17. Sorcerer 12: with our last ASI, you can get the Gift of the Chromatic Dragon for some diet smites, adding a d4 of fire damage to your sword for a minute once a day. you can also react to give yourself resistance to an elemental damage type proficiency times a day.

18. Sorcerer 13: we’re also getting to our final spells, starting with our seventh level spell Draconic Transformation. for a minute after casting, you get especially beastly, gaining blindsight, a breath weapon, and wings. it’s not as fast as teleportation, but it’s a lot more flexible.

19. Sorcerer 14: but we’re not done just yet! we still get one more shadow goody, Shadow Walk. as a bonus action you can teleport from one shadow to another, because walking is for peasants.

20. Sorcerer 15: at our final level, you get your truly final spell, Sunburst. it sucks that at the very end they swap out fire for radiant, but this is still a massive fireball, and I won’t say no to a massive fireball.

Pros & Cons:

Pros:

with access to plate mail, a decent amount of HP, and plenty of resistances, you are pretty tough for a gish. the winner is whoever survives the fight, so survivability is never a bad addition to a build.

with long-term damage bonuses from dueling, giant’s might, chromatic gifts, and so on, you have plenty of consistent damage. with action surge and high-level damage spells, you also have some burst damage. and since you can do both, you have plenty of flexibility when it comes to how you fight. some times slow and steady wins the race, sometimes you have to beat someone down before they escape with a macguffin, and you can help with both.

with flight, teleportation, and boosted speed, you can get around easily and always be in an advantageous position. and with crusher, that position is usually “next to a cliff”. you can play merry hell with enemy positioning, and just being around you is a stage hazard.

Cons:

fire. about a tenth of the enemies in D&D are straight-up immune to fire, so even with elemental adept there’s a decent chance you’ll have almost zero magical damage in some fights. even without direct damage you have some options though…

unfortunately your options are save or suck spells, which are very powerful when they work, which is why a good chunk of the game is dedicated to making sure they don’t. banishment and crown of madness can change the course of a fight if they hit, but that’s a big if.

you have a little bit of everything, but you excel at nothing. you have no capped stats, your HP is good but not great, you have some control spells but not a lot of concentration, and you have damage spells but they’re all one type. but at least you’ll always have something to do, unlike some people.

[miss-madness67]

Mistakes (Jack Kline)

The mistakes that brought you closer to him.

The first mistake you made was to accept working with the Winchester brothers. You should have never broken your habit of working alone. The second mistake you made was turning your back on that witch bitch. She sent your way a curse that was powerful enough to knock you off your feet. The third mistake you made was opening your eyes after you fainted. You should have known better than to believe the spell was purely physical. So when you stared up into the blue eyes of the Nephilim, you know you’re fucked, and you don’t care.

“God, you are beautiful.” You emphasize each word, your gaze remains locked, not caring about the rest of the world. Jack looks positively puzzled by your statement, but it is not him who speaks.

“You must’ve hit your head harder than we thought.” Dean’s voice comes from your right, and it’s only then that you realize you’re no longer in the witch’s hut where the battle went down. Instead, you’re back at the Winchesters’ motel room.

“What?” You wonder out loud, your eyes shifting to Dean for a second, before looking at Jack again. “It’s not my head hurting, but my heart.” Your following words are dramatic, “Jack, I’m sorry I didn’t notice before. You are the most beautiful Nephilim I have ever seen.” If heart eyes were a thing of reality, you’re pretty sure you would have them now.

“Thank you?” Says Jack, and although he put space between you to move further back, your grin doesn’t falter.

Sam murmurs your name softly, “are you sure you’re ok?” He inspects back and forth between you and Jack. Maybe it’s the way you’re staring at the Nephilim, or maybe the fact that a witch did throw a spell at you, realization quickly dawns on his face. “A love spell?” He chuckles, “I was worried about that bright red light she cast on you, but it’s just a love spell.”

For the first time since you woke up, you pay attention to Sam. “Love spell? What are you talking about?”

It’s the eldest brother who answers this time. “Right, the witch put a love curse on you and that’s why you’re looking at Jack as if you wanna take a bite out of him.” The smirk on his face is all too know-it-all as if he had solved the mystery by himself.

“Curse?” your voice is low, threatening, all directed at Dean. “You think my love for Jack is a curse?” You stand from the bed, being mindful of pushing Jack back gently. Fortunately for Dean, your gun is far away from your reach. “I might have met Jack just a handful of times, but my feelings for him have grown stronger by the second.” Your next words are for Jack, “There’s a part of me that has known you my whole life, Jack. Can’t you feel it too?”  Your smile is all too bright as you place a hand on the Nephilim’s chest, right above his heart.

As it turned out, your confession only further convinced the siblings that you had been hit with a love spell. They decided that the only answer was to kill the witch -who got away earlier- for the curse to lift. Of course, with your hazed thoughts, you were no use. So, to prevent you from doing anything reckless to stop them, they all agreed to leave you in the motel with Jack.

Leaving you alone with Jack was both a good and a bad idea. It prevented you from screwing up in the field, but it also gave you what -who- you desired most: Jack. “Don’t worry,” you tell him as you sit across from him on the small table. He has been tense ever since the brothers left. “Even if they kill the witch, my love for you will remain the same.” Jack smiles awkwardly across from you. “You don’t believe me?” You challenge.

“I- you don’t really know me.” He whispers softly, but still, there’s a blush on his cheeks that spurs you on.

“And I told you that doesn’t matter.” You grin at him. “I’ll prove it to you!” You stand up from your chair and walk his way with determination.

Instantly, he jumps from his chair. “Wow, what are you doing?”

You continue walking his way until his back collides with the wall. “I’m proving to you that our feelings are real.” You place your hands on his chest once again, the crazy beating of his heart brings a smile to your face. “If you didn’t feel at least something, I’m sure you would control yourself better.” Despite his lack of encouragement, Jack doesn’t push you away. “I mean, you’re Nephilim, you could overpower me easily.”

Jack seems to be considering his options, and for a moment, you believe that he might actually push you away. Instead, he grabs your hands to hold them in his. “I think you’re very attractive, and I would love to get to know you… but maybe we should wait until the witch is dead, don’t you think?”

Rationally, you should accept what Jack is suggesting. You should step away and give the boy some space. It’s safe to say that you’re not very rational right now. With an angelic grin adorning your face, you pull Jack by the hands and closer to you, your faces only inches away. He is too stunned to do anything when you close the distance between the two of you.

Your lips touch his experimentally, first. The contact is almost delicate, timid, and innocent. Nothing too passionate, unlike the words you uttered before. Perhaps you’re afraid he’ll run away. Once you’re sure that he won’t, your body relaxes. Your hands let go of his and travel all the way to the nape of his neck. The Nephilim’s hands fall by the sides of his body. He doesn’t know what to do with them. It is then that you start to move your mouth on his. Jack’s follows your rhythm insecurely, almost as if it were his first kiss. He sighs and doesn’t step away, your chests pressed together, molding perfectly. You melt into the feeling of him, but you don’t dare to push further. You want to eat him whole and more, just like Dean said. But Jack is too sweet for that, so you control yourself. What you have right now is too good to be true. It is definitely worth pretending you are hexed by a witch. The last mistake you made, was falling in love with Jack Kline for real.

[plantyberry]

Part 10: Chapter 2-2, or, 'I cast: Summon soulmate!'

I have no excuse for what comes next, other than "I am very distractible your honor".

Cuckoo points

When watching the TV with Adrian (after Lorelei appears) -My spidey senses are tingling. +1 Cuckoo

When the barrier goes up: -I burst out singing the infamous Doom Song. +1 Cuckoo

Walking through the forest: -I just keep a watchful eye out for any potential lurking yeti. +1 Cuckoo

Baby's first spell: -"IÃ! IÃ Cthulhu fhtagn! Ph'nglui mglw'nafh cthulhu r'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!" +1 Cuckoo -I know what I must do. And that means beginning to dance the Macarena. +1 Cuckoo --I wonder if pocket snakes and pocket spiders can get along well together? +1 Cuckoo

If you STILL didn't get your cursed mark healed and you have a gun, throw it at the hellhound. +1 Cuckoo

If you are an Imposter, after the suspicious billboard appears: -"I thought I just saw a mutant wolf-bear-shark/zombie standing by the side of the road!" +1 Cuckoo

Upon meeting Percy, if you are his soulmate: -Oh my god, it's my soul mate! +1 Cuckoo

Before the introductions: -This is in preparation for the lunatic asylum, obviously. +1 Cuckoo

Percy's 20 Questions: -How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? +1 Cuckoo

The chess game (Must know SOMETHING about Arthurial lore) -A fine tradition just so long as a chess set doesn't go zooming around the room +1 Cuckoo

Rock Paper Scissors contest: -Never mind, all this. I begin dancing the Tango de la Muerte. +1 Cuckoo

Final round of the Rock Paper Scissors against Merlin: -I begin imagining a naked Homer Simpson seductively dancing around while singing "Meow, meow, meow!" +1 Cuckoo

The Chess: -I flick my marble and knock several of my opponents' pieces out of their peg holes. +1 Cuckoo

How to Soulmate Percy T. Longspear

I noticed several people were asking, so now you shall receive!

You need: Cuckoo over 30 And Corruption under 0 Will rating over 7 a Hero score over 0 Sweet over 100 or two-faced(Sweet) Purity over 3

A rather hefty list when ou think about it, but easier to think about when breaking it down.

Cuckoo Score >= 30

The cuckoo score is what my entire guide is about, but there are ways to determine how high yours is during the game:

After the dream sequence, if cuckoo > 30: "Hello, can you hear me?" During the mysterious quotes.

When casting the spell to detect a harbinger, if cuckoo>30: A moment of startlement and someone reaches forth." There you are "And with that, it vanishes.

(In other words, Percy reaches out to you through the Malkavian Network Cuckoo Sensor)

If either of those appear for you in-game, you're golden.

Hero > 0

The hero score is a tally of your 'heroic' actions. You gain 1 point when you WILLINGLY rescue your clubmate and another when you try protecting Adriand from the hellhound (must pass the fear check)

Purity >=3

Purity is the easiest: Be a general heroic do-gooder. Don't steal, don't swear, ever (seriously, swearing too much actually tanks your purity), and don't get mindcontrolled. In 2-2, when confronted to the choice about swearing, picking the first option (As usual my mind remains pure and free of any swear words that might fit this exact situation.) already gives you +2. If you went to the rescue during Club? Gain +1. If you tried protecting Adrian from the hellhound? Another +1 and enough to put you in the clear.

Warning: Picking Serial Killer will give you a grand total of -1000 purity, therefore locking you out of soulmate status automatically

Sweet >= 100 or two-faced(Sweet)

Sweet is self-explanatory and I'm not high enough on sugar to even think about making a Sweet Guide. Pick the general 'nice' options and it should be easy.

Will >=7

The Big One, the options to gain some Will aren't that common, sooooo, I guess… SneakyWillPointsGuideUpToMeetingPercyGO! (Ignoring the mind control, demon mark shenanigans, and the will loss mitigations though (they're not net positives after all))

An impromptu Will points guide!

Prologue:

Wake Up: +1 Will

In the Apartment:

Childhood (Amnesia): will +1 After the TV turns itself on, keep turning it off until you get the Sysiphus achievement: will +1 Hobby (Criminal): will +1 BUT Also gives +1 Corruption Phone (Juke): will +1 Try to exorcise the TV: will +1

Adrian Convo:

Be stubborn about your outfit choices (dresses, tux, Spandex…). One example is the infamous Tange de la Muerte episode (complete with Keikaku achievement). will +1 If you're a security guard, refuse to run away and tell Adrian what happened in the Parking Lot: will +1 Talk about intrusive thoughts and give him a rundown of the ones you've had: will +1 Ask about the apocalypse and when asked about why, reply with "Meta Knowledge": will +1 BUT Also gives +1 Corruption

Polo Club:

Deny foreshadowing 7 times. will +1 Talent(Lucid dreamer) will +1 If you fell off your horse: I somewhat painfully rise to my feet under my own power. will +1 During the match, ignore everything and "I ignore everything else and keep my eyes riveted to the lurching void that shambles ever closer." will +1 (your vice must NOT be Greed) Successfully rescue Pippa: will +1

Fencing Club:

On the way to the club, keep your eyes on the prize: will +1 Keep procrastinating and avoid changing/delay 4 times: will +1 (If your vice is Sloth, gain +1 Vice level which is… Ominous.) In the Stalls, when told to come out and play: -Scream bloody murder for Adrian, then refuse to move: will +1 -Pull out your weapon at the ready: will +1 Talent(Lucid dreamer) will +1 Before the match: I gravely inform the audience that only masked eyes are allowed to behold my full splendor. will +1 (Need Cuckoo >4) During the sword match, before the sword breaks: I concentrate fully on the fencing bout I'm currently engaged in. will +1 After the match, try changing in the Changing rooms with Brenda: will +1

Fencing failure (Paramedic): Immediately start applying pressure on Zain (Don't go for the station): -I just focus on my work right in front of me. Complexion pale. No stridor or wheezing. Was it just the sight of all the blood that caused him to lose consciousness? will +1

Sword Club Bad end (Paramedic) -Still I plod on. This is why I'm a paramedic. will +1

As far as secrets go, being a serial killer gives you will +1 while lying about your amnesia gives you will +3

The Time Bubble:

If Fear checked against hellhound pass: -I pull out my weapon from its bag. It's better than nothing. will +1 -I protectively step in front of Adrian, much to his great consternation. will +1

When arriving to your building, take the stairs. will +1 STOICALLY plod your way up the stairs. will +1 Ignore Adrian's advice: will +1 In front of your apartment: Never mind going into my apartment. Let's stay in the corridor. will +1 Inside your apartment: I REFUSE TO GO TO SLEEP! will +1

If you failed the check and the Hydra grabs you: -I tear my weapon free. will +1 -I desperately cling on to anything within reach. will +1

If successfully escaped they Hydra: -I calmly open the door and inform the new visitor/s about a potential monster infestation. will +1

Look through the peephole, then open the door to slam it in their face again. will +1 (This WILL give you -10 Sweet, so not the best if you're aiming for Percy)

If Merlin ends up having to blow up your door: I just pull forth my handy weapon and wave it menacingly at the interloper. will +1 (-5 Sweet on that one. Once again, to avoid)

Refuse healing: will +1

Merlin's infodump and preparing to leave:

If turned into a duck: -I'm a duck. I've got wings now. I can fly. I know what I must do. To infinity and beyond! will +1

Categorically refuse to join the adventure: will +1(And increases Denial)

Don't take anything with you on this quest: will +1

Don't take a full inventory with you on this quest: will +1

Leaving the house: Dance in the enevator, then go for the Tango de la Muerte for the Coup the Grâce. will +1

When thinking back about the apartment: My thoughts are my own alone. will +1

Dream sequence: (Must be Lucid Dreamer)

Speaking with Merlin: "Merlin… say my name." will +1 Fighting with Lancelot: This is a dicey game to play, but even so… I'll push my luck as a dreamer here! will +1 When adventuring with Arthur: This is the memory of a dream that I now walk. And so I'll force the knowledge of where the fae awaits into my very mind and take action at that. will +1 At the end of the dream, turn around and catch the hand. will +1

In the RV

Ignore Merlin's warning and pick up the phone anyway. will +1 (Corrupt +1)

In the Parking lot:

If Kidnapped: Try to escape (need will>7) will +1 Follow Merlin (need will>7) will +1 -Keep trying to find him. will +1 --Look up. will +1 --Protect your neck. will +1 --- No really… what had Merlin truly been doing out here? will +1

In the shop:

Talking with Adrian about that 'Benoni' Surname: Married. "It makes the most sense" will +1 If you smoke and Adrian lost your lighter: redirect him towards one of those multi-use utility lighters. will +1