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hunny-beann · 1 year ago

Note

I am literally having the worst day ever, do you think you could write some insanely fluffy Dream for me? I'm talking tooth rotting levels of fluff here.

Rest Now, Wife, Mine

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

Note: Hi anon! Thanks a ton for the adorable request, I had a lot of fun with it and really hope it helps make your day feel a bit better <3

Synopsis: Morpheus' wife finds their bed far too lonely without him in it, and seeks out his presence to remedy this so she may finally succumb to slumber for the evening.

Thankfully, he is all too happy to oblige.

Warnings: None! Just pure and unbridled fluff :)

Word Count: 1,298

Her steps are silent and her pace slow as she approaches the familiar throne room, sensing even from outside of its walls that it is as close to empty as it is going to get for the evening.

That said, as close to empty as possible for the throne room of an Endless such as Dream was not nearly as empty as one might think, with it being a rarity that he not be found there.

She fights back a shiver as she steps across the threshold, her bare feet suddenly far colder than before, and her majority uncovered shoulders beginning to undergo horripilation at the seemingly inexplicable shift in temperature.

That said, being easy to explain was not a rule that the Dreaming followed, so this was nothing new, and certainly nothing unexpected.

Though, the sudden voice that split the once heavy silence in twain on the other hand, was.

"And what could possibly have you awake at such an hour, dear wife?"

The voice asked quietly, laced with both amusement and even a twinge of concern that had the wife in question smiling softly in spite of her best efforts to not appear excited at the mere sound of her love's voice.

Oh, but she had never been that strong, had she?

He had her wrapped around his finger just as he did the entire realm that he ruled, though he notably reserved the one with the ring for her and her alone.

She padded up toward his throne quietly, not willing to answer his question until she was close enough that her voice might not reverberate so loudly off of the palace walls.

Some words, she had decided long ago, were for her husband and her husband alone.

Upon her eager approach, the Lord of Dreams could not help but raise one of the corners of his mouth at the mere sight of her, holding his hand out at her nearness to guide her to stand before his crossed legs as he reached gently to take her other in his own as well, making a mental note of how chilled her extremities felt due to the cool night air of his throne room.

He watched as she slackened slightly at his familiar touch, her body always so happy to find him near in a way never ceased to have his heart all but melting at her feet.

What a disastrous little thing she was, truly.

He could never love another.

As her form relaxed at the feeling of his hands on hers, so loving in spite of the power that they held, she could not help but yawn softly, eyes growing teary as her ease allowed the weight of the day to truly set in.

Her dearest Dream Lord smirked up at her, his brow raised knowingly and his eyes twinkling as he watched her fight off the eternally tempting wiles of sleep.

What a sweet little thing, so helpless in her battles against her own biology that it was entirely too amusing to ignore, and always far too entertaining to neglect to bear witness to.

"You are tired, my dear."

The Lord of Dreams stated matter of factly, tugging his beloved closer using his soft grip on her hands so he could properly brush some of her hair behind her ear, a gesture which caused her eyelids to flutter closed briefly before they snapped open once more, her fight against herself not yet over in her eyes (though Dream could see clearly in the way that she swayed on her own two feet that there was already an obvious victor).

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head,

"You need to rest, sweet stardust. Let me bring you back to the bedroom."

He spoke gently, rising to guide her back to their soft and familiar bed only to halt when he heard her reply.

"No, I don't want to go back, you're just going to leave once you think I'm tired enough not to follow."

The Dream Lord faltered upon hearing this, raising a questioning brow in response before lowering himself down upon his throne once more, though this time he pulled his wife right along with him, sitting her on his lap in order to get a better look at her exhausted expression.

He frowned.

"Have you been staying awake on purpose, my love? Lying in wait for me as you promised you would not do?"

She shook her head, but he could see the way that the blood rushed into her cheeks as she tried to explain, embarrassed to admit the things that she had to in order to quell his worries of any intentional harm having been done.

"No, of course not, I just..."

The Lord of Dreams hummed and brought one hand to her back, rubbing up and down along her spine and feeling her lean against him unintentionally in response, her bones heavy and all too prepared to sink into whatever comfort they could find.

"You just what, dearest?"

He urged, causing his lover to nod blearily in response, slowly coming back to reality again.

"I just find that sometimes I cannot bear to sleep alone, that the bed feels far too wide and empty without you in it."

Dream fought back a slight smile upon hearing this, feeling more than a little bit proud to know that his wife could rely upon him enough to truly need him so (though he was notably unhappy to hear that this was causing her any amount of unnecessary strife).

"And is tonight one of those nights, beloved?"

He asked, watching as she nodded, her head lolling slightly upon her neck as her overworked muscles struggled to remain in control over her all too tired body and mind.

"Poor thing,"

Dream all but purred in response, adjusting his love upon his lap until she was leaning against him, breaths warm on his neck and body seeming to grow heavier by the second as the feeling of his familiar closeness drove her into a type of ease that was felt only at a lover's closeness.

"That will certainly have to be remedied, won't it?"

He murmured against her ear, feeling her shiver in response, nuzzling closer with a nod as he gathered his coat that had been hanging on the back of the dais behind him with just one hand, draping it over her body and pressing a soft kiss against her head as he felt her begin to drift off into a much needed and far too well deserved slumber.

"Rest now, wife, mine."

He said softly, feeling his dearest love smile gently against his skin at his familiar words and the use of his favorite (and almost sickeningly sweet) nickname for her,

"I will see to it that no one interrupts you as you do."

If she had been more awake, perhaps the woman would have rolled her eyes or even offered a sarcastic retort in response to her husband's dramatics, but instead she simply nudged herself closer, pressing a gentle kiss against the pale flesh of his neck before she drifted off for the very first time that night, feeling truly safe in the arms of her most adoring love.

And when morning arrived, and the throne room became far less uninhabited, the two of them made for quite a sight, indeed.

After all, who would have thought that the Lord of Dreams might choose to sleep simply to live life as his dear wife did, his cheek pressed gently against her head and his arms wrapped around her as slumber found them both, pulling them closer together, ever still, in the very same way that they belonged now, and always would for the remainder of eternity, and perhaps even beyond that.

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yourejinx · 1 year ago

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Late Nights

Azriel x F.Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, +18, minors dni. Oral, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v. A bit of fluff? I think that's it.

Author's note: I wanted to try something different, this is my first time writing content like this so please be gentle but also PLEASE FEEDBACK.

Word count: 4k

It was the fourth night in a row that you were deprived from sleep, cursed with listening Cass and Nesta fuck like rabbits in the room next to yours. In all honesty, you loved your friends and were absolutely thrilled they were enjoying and exploring the extent of their relationship, they deserved it after everything they went through. You just wished they had a little consideration for your poor ears and sleeping schedule.

You had been working your ass off the past few weeks, Rhys had you and Az going around the courts every other day, plus you've been dealing with Eris, since you seemed to be the only member in the Inner Circle that the Autumn heir tolerated just fine. So you had your plate full, and wished for a little peace and quiet at your own home. But your friends had other plans.

Nesta let out a particularly loud moan that you clearly heard through the too thin wall. It made you grimace and you decided you had enough. Huffing, you tossed the sheets off your body, grabbed the shirt you had stolen from the shadowsinger years ago and opened the door, putting on the clothing while you made your way down the corridor. If you were awake, then Azriel had to be too, he didn't miss a thing happening in this house.

You didn't bother knocking on his door, you were way past that line with him. Azriel was your best friend, your confident, the person who you most trusted in the entire world, and vice versa. You were too comfortable with each other to bother with politeness. You flung open the door to his bedroom, making your way inside and slamming the door behind you dramatically. The room was dark except for the dim fae light hanging on his bedside table, Azriel had put down the book he was reading to stare at you amusedly.

"Good evening to you too." He uttered playfully.

You didn't reply, just scowled, walked up to the other side and plopped down face first on the bed beside him. He chuckled.

"Finding it hard to sleep?" He asked, setting the book aside.

"They are insufferable." You mumbled around the sheets. They smelled like him, an instant comfort for your tired mind. "Agh! You can hear them from here too! How are you not bothered?!?" You lift your head from his pillows to look at him exasperatedly.

Azriel smiled somewhat apprehensive at you. "I'm kind of used to it by now." He shrugged.

You narrowed your eyes at him, smirking. "Kinky."

He rolled his eyes feigning annoyance. "You have no idea, sweetheart." His voice was a deep purr as he smirked back at you.

You lifted one eyebrow in amusement. There was this recurrent thing between you two, where you usually teased and flirted with each other but never dared to actually do something about it. It was just for fun right? You were friends who just liked messing around as a joke. Always dancing the line between friends and something more, it was a dangerous game for sure, but you had to admit you loved the thrill of it.

“Is that so? Oh please, do enlighten me then.” You shot back, lying more comfortably on his bed. Arms behind your head, eyes fixed on him.

Hazel gaze traveled all the way down to the now exposed skin of your upper thighs, your movement had caused the shirt – his shirt– to ridden up a little, revealing more of your legs and the underline of a pair of lacy black panties. His pulse spiked slightly at the sight. You didn’t seem to notice, he averted his eyes before you could catch him shamelessly staring at you.

There was a glint in your eyes when he caught your stare again, a slight flush to your cheeks, but he didn’t back off.

“Curious now, are we?” He tilted his head, resting his cheek on his fist to properly look at you.

“Ah, don’t flatter yourself, pretty boy. You brought it up, are you backing out?”

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, a playful spark dancing in his golden eyes, when—

“Fuck, Ness!” Cassian’s growl reached both your ears as clear as day. There was a beat of silence after that where you just stared at each other stunned, then you broke in a fit of laughter.

“Seriously Az, I don’t know how you endure it, if I have to listen to them one more night I’m gonna lose my shit. I haven’t slept in days,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “and neither have you, it seems.” you pointed out, poking open one eye to stare at him. Azriel had laid back facing you, wings tucked behind his back, shoulders involuntarily curving inwards, a sign of tiredness. You noted the dark circles under his eyes.

“I look that shitty, huh?” he smiled tiredly.

“Never.” You stated matter-of-factly. “You’re always pretty.”

It was his turn to blush then, heat rapidly crawling to his face and neck. He could handle your flirting, your teasing, but he didn’t know how to react when you blatantly called him pretty. It just sounded so…sincere, coming from you. It made his heart flutter in his chest. It was no secret that he found you attractive, he thought he made that clear, but there was more to that, wasn’t there? He didn’t just think you were hot, he thought you were beautiful, smart, and kind, and it freaked the hell out of him to acknowledge all those things because that would mean that he wanted more. More than being your friend, but it terrified him to ruin your friendship. If you wanted him in the same way, you would’ve said something by now, right? You’ve known each other for years.

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered, breath fanning across his face. He hadn’t noticed how close you were. He could feel the heat radiating from your body.

“I’m thinking that we should sleep.” He answered, but made no move whatsoever. You smiled at him and nodded, making to reach the faelight to turn it off. You angled your body half above him and stretched to the bedside table, hair barely grazing the hot skin of his torso. Gods, you were practically straddling him, his mind taking him to all sorts of indecent scenarios. Your breasts were just a breadths away from his mouth, he could make out the perked nipples under the shirt. He loved seeing you in his clothes, but right now he wanted nothing more than to rip the fabric out of you. Azriel swallowed dryly.

What was his fucking problem? It wasn’t like you hadn’t shared a bed before, he blamed his friend’s heated session down the hall. He had to admit it had gotten him a bit railed up, especially with you on his bed, smelling like him. It was hard to ignore the growing want in his veins.

“Goodnight, Az.” You said, pulling back a little to look at him through half lidded eyes, even in the dark. Was it possible you were feeling the same? or was it just tiredness in your features?

“Goodnight, angel.” He whispered back. If you leaned in any closer, he swears he’d kiss you, consequences be damned. But you slid right back onto your side, back facing him.

Azriel lets out a quiet, frustrating sigh, reaching an arm out to wrap around your waist pulling you close. More moaning can be heard outside his bedroom, all the way to Cassian’s room. He feels slightly jealous.

Suddenly you snorted, “We’ll sleep better if we get past the nghs, ohh, right there Cass!” you moaned, imitating Nesta. Azriel inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the way your little whimpering had shot straight to his dick. And the bite of jealousy he felt at hearing Cassian’s name falling so sinfully from your lips.

He scented the slight change in your scent though, a pinch of sweet arousal that got him mouth-watering. It had gotten to your head too, the display of passion from your friends a few bedrooms away. Azriel debated whether it was wise to do something right now, to taste the waters maybe. But you rolled onto your back again, facing the ceiling and letting out a frustrated groan.

“Someone has to teach them though, make them uncomfortably listen for once. Maybe I’ll go to Rita’s tomorrow, choose a random male and bring him home. Beat them at their own game.”

“No.” Azriel growled. You turned your head to the side, looking at him and were met with the dark, lustful haze in his eyes. You felt your core pulse in response. Fuck, why was he so hot?

“What do you mean"no "?" You asked, feeling your tongue paper dry in your mouth.

“Why wait until tomorrow, if you can beat them tonight?”

The offer hung there, unspoken, for a few heartbeats. You felt your face grow hot, felt liquid fire pooling at your belly at the mere suggestion. He hadn’t even touched you and yet he got you all hot and bothered with a few words. You licked your lips, staring at him, shirtless, hair tousled over the pillow, shadows dancing dangerously over his shoulder. As if expecting your answer. He was a sight for sore eyes. It had to be illegal to be this beautiful.

“I’m game if you are, sweetheart.” There it was, the deep purr again that had you clenching your legs together. He noticed the shift of course, smirking smugly.

“Haha, very funny.” you said, huffing.

“I’m not playing.” He pulled you closer, pressing you against his front. You gasped, feeling the not so subtle bulge in his sweatpants, rubbing against the side of your thigh.

“Is this why you kept me at an arm's length tonight?” you chuckled, but he could hear the breathlessness in your voice. “So I wouldn't find out they got you all worked up?”

“No, this isn’t their doing, angel. It's all yours.” He dared a hand down your waist, past your hips, to ghost over the skin under the hem of your shirt. You shuddered. “Tell me to stop and I will. It's okay.”

He lifted the fabric ever so slightly, inching closer to the waistband of your underwear.

You turned fully to him, chests pressed together, breasts dragging against the firm muscle with every breath.

“Fuck it, let’s show them.” You breathed into his mouth before crashing your lips together in a searing kiss.

Azriel groaned low against your mouth, grip tighter bringing your hips flushed together, and kissed you back with fervor. Your hands found purchase in the dark locks at the back of his neck, tugging gently and urging him impossibly closer. He pushed you onto your back, knees parting on their own accord to accommodate him between your legs. It was all so hot and messy. Like you both have been waiting for this for a very long time, it made you throb with need. The thought of him wanting you as much as you wanted him.

You rolled your hips onto him, desperate for any sort of friction, moaning loudly when the clothed tip of his cock catched on your clit deliciously. Azriel took his chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch and taste of you, kissing you deeply, desperately. He wanted more, he wanted everything. A wave of arousal licked down his spine, your lips were sweet and addictive, he wondered — needed to know— if other parts of you tasted as sweet.

He kissed your jaw, your neck, biting and licking his way down to your collarbones. His right hand came to fondle with the generous swell of your breast over the shirt, pinching at the perked nub. The smell of your arousal hit him at a full force, Azriel felt like a youngling in heat rutting his cock at your core. Fuck, he couldn't help himself, he was so enamoured with the sounds he was getting out of you.

“Take this off,” he ordered, tugging at your shirt. “If I do it I may rip the damn thing off of you, and I love seeing you in my shirt.”

You obeyed without a second thought, too lost in the feeling of him already. He invaded all your senses, his touch sending your skin on fire, his scent sparkling pleasure bubbling in your insides. The rich tone of his voice had you feeling all tingly and sensitive. Gods, you wanted him everywhere.

With the offensive clothing now discarded, Azriel wasted no time dipping his head down and latching his mouth to one of your nipples, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth around the nub. His hand came to play with your other breast, giving it the same attention, switching between your tits. You arched your back into him, whining in pleasure.

He let go of your chest, looking down to admire you, all spread out for him. Nipples hard and shiny with his spit, breathing unevenly, underwear drenched with arousal, all because of him. He felt his cock throb within the confines of his sweats. Fuck, you looked so pretty like this, he had to taste you. Azriel looked up at your face, your glazed over eyes and swollen lips, and kissed you hard. Scarred fingers found the flimsy material of your panties, pushing them aside and dragging two digits along your soaked folds; you both moaned at the feeling. He rubbed tight circles around your clit, then ran a finger through your slit, smearing your juices everywhere. Your breathing quickened and he bit down your lip before kissing his way to your heat. Azriel looked at you from between your legs, pupils blown with lust, smirking wickedly. He hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged the material painfully slow down your legs, snarling softly at the sight of your dripping pussy.

“Beautiful,” he moaned. “So damn beautiful.” His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe out your center. It almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your hips bucking off the bed to get closer to his face. He chuckled darkly. “Eager, angel?”

“Az please, stop teasing,” you whined prettily, eyes locking with his.

At this point you didn’t care if your friends could hear or not, you wanted Azriel’s mouth on you, his fingers, his cock. You wanted to feel all of him.

“Whatever my sweet angel wants,” he blew some air into your cunt, making you shiver in anticipation. Azriel dive in, devouring you like a male starved, like he might die if he didn’t get to taste you. He all but full on made out with your pussy, dragging his tongue along your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking sharply. He groaned at your taste, the reverberations causing your eyes to roll back into your head, hips jerking up. He wrapped one arm around your hips to keep you pin to the bed and switched between harsh sucks and flicking the wet muscle around the nub. The pleasure was all too much and not enough at the same time, you moaned his name aloud and tugged at the strands of his hair again.

Azriel’s free hand reached down to spread your folds, soaking his digits in your arousal before proding one finger at your entrance, and pushing inside. Your walls immediately clenched around him, making you both growl in pleasure.

“Fuck, sweetheart, so tight. Already clenching on me,” he moaned, teeth grazing your clit. You could feel the pressure building in your lower belly, walls clamping down on his finger when he added a second one. You cried out, desperately trying to ride his face. Azriel pumped his fingers inside of you faster, curling his digits to reach that sweet spot that had you seeing stars behind your lids. Words were beginning to fail you, mumbling incoherently about how close you were. “You wanna cum? C’mon angel, give it to me, cum all over my face and fingers.”

His words had an immediate effect on you, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure overpowered you and you let go, cumming hard on his fingers, moaning his name for all the house to hear. Azriel kept thrusting his fingers into your hole, guiding you through your orgasm and licking every last drop you had to offer. He watched you closely, eyes shut in pleasure, soft pants leaving your plush lips as you came down from your high. Only then he pulled his hand away, mesmerized by you. He crawled up your body, coming face to face with you.

“Hey,” he whispered, smiling.

“Hey,” you replied, face flushed and smiling satisfied. You reached your hand to push away the dark strands that had fallen into his face, cupping his cheek in your palm. He looked absolutely gorgeous, hair disheveled from your tugging, lips bruised and shiny with your juices, gaze clouded with lust and something else. More intense even, more deep.

You dragged your thumb over his bottom lip and he sucked it into his mouth, you almost whined again. Breaths coming in short. You brought his face to yours, kissing him with such devotion you couldn't hold back any longer. Azriel shuddered, leisurely kissing you back, you could taste yourself on his tongue. Moaning softly, you ranked your nails down his body, from his pecs, to the hard planes of his abdomen, all the way to his cock, palming him through the fabric. He hissed when you slid your fingers past the waistband of his pants, gripping him in your hand. His hips buckled. He was big, and warm and sticky with pre-cum. You made to put his sweatpants down but he stopped you before you could take it any further.

“Fuck baby, are you sure?” he asked, looking intently at you. A swirl of emotions passed through his eyes, it made your heart flutter in your chest. “We don't have to, unless that's what you want. I think we made our point clear.” He laughed breathlessly.

“It is what I want Az. I want you, I need you. Please.” You watched him with pleading eyes, full of trust and… He didn't dare acknowledge that emotion yet, not unless you spoke it out loud. Although his heart still gave a flip. Pulse picking up.

He helped you pull his pants down, and kicked them out of his legs. His cock sprung free, slapping against his abs, tip swollen and dripping. You flashed him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen you wear, dragging your eyes shamelessly through his body. It gave him a little bit of an ego boost.

“You're so pretty Az. So so pretty,” you murmured, eyes half lidded already devouring him.

There it was again, you calling him pretty. He didn't know what to do with himself so he leaned in to capture your mouth in a scorching kiss. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him flush against you, both hissing when the tip of his proud cock bumped against your clit.

You broke the kiss to slide your mouth along his jaw, down his neck, peppering his sun-kissed skin in love bites. Marking him as yours. Azriel groaned and thrust his hips forward, sliding through your folds, coating his length in your arousal. He repeated the action a couple of times before aligning himself with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, your wetness and the remnants of your orgasm making it easy to slide all the way in. Your walls hugged him tightly as he bottomed out, stilling, to give you time to adjust to his size. Azriel let out a moan so hot and sinful it made a new wave of arousal wash over you.

He felt on cloud nine, his head falling to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and letting it intoxicate him. He could’ve cum right then and there, buried to the hilt in your heat. But he wanted it to last, taking his time to savor the feeling of you wrapped around him so perfectly. He had no doubt in his lust filled mind that you were made for him. You were his and only his.

You rolled your hips at last, running your fingers down his sides urging him to move. That was all it took for him to pull out to the tip and slam his hips hard into yours, Azriel set a slow, sensual pace, intended in making you feel every last inch of him. You welcomed the stretch with a wanton moan, feeling the veins with every delicious drag of his cock against your walls.

“Gods, Azriel, more!” you whined. “I can take it.”

“I swear you're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He panted. Pulling out he gripped your hips tightly and turned you onto your stomach, ass up in the air. He thrust in harsher, making you cry out in pleasure. All signs of restraint gone.

Azriel picked up speed, angling his hips just fine so that he could reach even deeper inside you. He quickly found the spot that had you gripping him tight, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Abusing your hole, hitting your g spot every single time, mercilessly. He had you in a state of pure bliss, bringing one arm to wrap around your middle, reaching between your legs to play with your clit. You were so close, already too sensitive from your previous orgasm. Squirming around in his embrace, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts.

“Fuuck! Don't stop,” you managed out, fisting at the sheets for support.

“I won't,” he grunted, the swollen head of his cock kissing your cervix. “You're mine, do you understand me? Mine. No other male gets to touch you.”

“Yes, yes I'm yours,” you panted, desperately wanting to please him.

“Good girl.”

He was relentless, hips slapping with a force that had the headboard smashing against the wall. He knew you were about to cum, could feel his own orgasm sneaking up on him. Azriel went impossibly faster, pulling sobs out of you. You clamped down on him after one particular sharp thrust and your high barreled through you without previous warning. You screamed, white hot pleasure blinding you. Cum gushed out of you, making a mess of your thighs and his. He held your trembling body up, pressed to him as he fucked you through your orgasm, thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. His wings flared proud behind him and he felt the tight knot in his gut snap. Azriel came with a growl of your name, hips coming to a stop. Your body falling limp atop the bed.

Slowly pulling out of you, he watched astonished at the mess you made, both of your juices dripping down your legs. When his breathing became even again, Azriel leaned in to press a kiss to your spine, making you shudder.

“You okay, angel?” He asked, scarred fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face.

You smiled tiredly at him, content. “I feel amazing.”

He chuckled and laid back next to you, pulling you to lay on his chest. You pressed a kiss over his heart, arms resting on his stomach, still catching your breath. No one spoke for a while, enjoying the aftermath of your actions. There was no room for worry, not with Azriel. Not ever.

He traced iddle circles on your skin, loving how well you fit next to him.

“Az?” You called softly to him, he hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you hear that?”

He stilled, straining his hearing. Muffled moans could be heard down the hall and the distinct sound of a headboard smashing hard against the wall. You laughed in unison.

“I think we may have spurred them on,” he said amusedly, voice hoarse.

“I've never been more glad to have left my room than right now” you chuckled.

“You and I both, angel.” He added, squeezing your ass.

You turned to him, placing a kiss to the outline of his jaw. Silently admiring the hickies you left on his neck.

“How does a second round sound?” You purred.

He smirked, cock already hardening. “Absolutely delightful.”

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #azriel fanfic #azriel #acotar series #acotar smut #azriel smut #cassian smut

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angel-eyes05 · 9 months ago

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What's In A Name

pairing: roronoa zoro x fem!reader

summary: as a master thief, you pride yourself on never getting caught. that is until you're caught by the straw hats as you try stealing from their ship. unable to turn you in to the authorities just yet, they'll have to make due with storing you on the going merry in the meantime. but, your time in confinement has allowed you to get particularly close to a certain swordsman. how close the two of you get is to be decided though.

warnings/info: nsfw mdni, oral sex (fem receiving), alcohol consumption, drunk/tipsy sex, face riding, my own sex headcanons for zoro are VERY clear here lmao ,takes place in between jaya and skypiea (please pretend theres more time at sea in between those arcs cause this will not work otherwise OK THANKS), this is for the pre-time skip zoro girlies (he's 19 pre-time skip dont come for me), no use of y/n, the first half of this is just cute shenanigans between reader and the straw hats. its a lot of character building stuff but i like it.

word count: 6.3k

notes: HI GUYS IM BACK IVE MADE MY RETURN I FOUND SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT!!!! and its the longest fic ive ever written too god damn what a comeback lmao. ok so i started watching one piece and im head over heels in love with this man...but i'm only up to water 7 rn so i only know how to properly write for pre-time skip zoro so thats how this is gonna go. i was looking for zoro/one piece fics to read but theyre literally all established relationship ones which aren't my cup of tea so im doing it myself lmao. also i didnt proofread i got too lazy sorry if some stuff doesnt make sense sorry sorry sorry but im a simple lazy tired girlie lmao enjoy!!

dividers by: @cafekitsune

You didn’t know any of their names.

You had been aboard the Going Merry for about three weeks now, and you still hadn’t learned anyone’s names. Granted, your reason for being there wasn’t to make friends anyway. That wasn’t particularly easy to do, being tied up in some storage closet and all.

Being one of the few residents who actually lived on Jaya had allowed you to pick up a skill or two when it came to stealing. Pirates with big bounties and even bigger treasures left their ships unattended at the docks, leaving you with some perfect quick heists from time to time. Some steals were easier than others. As much as you believed in your talents, most of the time your ability to get out unscathed was based purely on the luck of the draw. It wasn’t an easy life, many recent nights leaving you with more injuries than berries and gold pieces, but it was all you knew having lived here for so long.

After having taken a break from heists for a bit, you finally laid your eyes on a ship worth stealing from. A pirate ship with a goat out in front and seemingly orange trees next to the helm. Most of the ships at the dock had been there for a while, leaving the pirates on board used to your tricks already. Being low on cash was another factor. So, after a bit of planning, you made your way onto the ship.

Earlier, you had found that one of the windows to a cabin had been left open, so you decided to make your entrance through there. You gathered your things and dove into the crystal blue water by the dock. Once you made it to the back of the ship, you took your rope, with your own handmade grappling hook at the end, and swung it to hook on the window sill. Luckily for you, it stuck the landing on the first try. You smirked to yourself and used the hook as leverage to climb up onto the ship. Unfortunately, this seemed to be the ship’s bathroom. Not super ideal. You’d have to venture more out into the ship. But with this came the risk of getting caught. Given your dire circumstances though, it was a risk you were willing to take.

With an attempt to make as little creak as possible, you slightly opened the door into the rest of the interior. Coast was clear so far. Suddenly, a shake rattled throughout the interior. You tumbled onto the floor, pushing open a door due to your unbalance. What the fuck was that, you thought to yourself. It quickly became no matter though, when you noticed the door had opened up to a room with a treasure chest tucked away in the back. Jackpot. You slyly made your way into the room and shut the door behind you.

The room was neatly kept, with bookshelves, a couch, two sleeping hammocks, and a desk with navigation tools on it. There was even a bar. Though temptation pursued at you, you had to stay on task. While making your way over to the chest, you heard different creaks vibrating across the walls of the ship. You prayed to yourself that it was just the wood’s reaction to the waves. As you had predicted, the chest was locked, so you searched your bag for anything that could key the lock.

Time became of the essence quickly as the thuds and creaks on the ship grew louder and louder. Finally, the lock to the chest made a perfect click, as the chest unlocked. You lifted the roof of the chest to find a sight for sore eyes: jewels and gold galore. This was it, you were set. You were so in awe with the vision before you, that you had failed to notice the woman standing behind you. The image you saw in one of the emeralds was a tall figure, with jet-black hair just below her shoulders, and dazzling blue eyes. “Looking for something?” the woman questioned, almost sarcastically. You seemed to have forgotten rule number one of thieving. Remember to lock the door behind you.

Quick on your feet, you whip around to throw a punch in her face, but her reflexes seem to be quicker than yours by the way she catches your fist. You then attempt to kick out her legs. The image you see next shakes you to your core. A hand, seeming to appear out of thin air, attaches itself to your calf. The hand then slowly raises your fear-frozen body into the air, dangling you upside down like a party toy. You attempt to throw more hits at her, all seeming to be in vain though. You kick and scream, like a child throwing a tantrum, in an attempt to get out. The woman looks out into the hallway and signals over another one of her companions. Fuck, this is turning sour fast. Before you can make out any other features of the man, besides his cartoonishly long nose, he uses his slingshot to pelt a rock towards your forehead. Your vision goes black as the rest of the pirates rush into the room.

The rough fibers of the rope tying your wrists together were the first thing you felt as you woke up. This was quickly followed by the underlying nausea from the waves rocking the boat, reminding you why you preferred to stay on land. You attempted to stand up, but your dizziness and the rope tying you to the floor weren’t letting you get very far. Suddenly, the door to whatever room you were in swung open, and the group of 7 pirates living on board entered the room. You slinked yourself along the back wall, attempting to disappear into your skin. You weren’t sure what felt worse: The fear of what they were going to do to you, or the embarrassment that you had been doing this for so long and still got caught.

Nope, definitely the embarrassment.

The man, no boy was a better word to describe him, standing in the middle of them attempted to speak to you before a woman with short orange hair cut him off. “If you think we’re gonna let you get off easily just because we’re also pirates, you’d be sorely mistaken!” she spoke, fiery anger lacing her words. The tall woman from earlier put her hand on her shoulder, calming her down, and walked out towards you. You tried to scoot away as much as you could as she crouched down to your level.

“Listen, we want this to be over as much as you do. We would love nothing more than to get you off our ship and drop you off at the nearest island. But unfortunately for us, that would mean having to find a group of marines to hand you over to, who we aren’t the best of friends with right now. And we can’t drop you back off at Jaya since we’re too far by this point. So, for now, we’ll just have to keep you tied down here if that works out with you.” You began to speak before the woman cut you off. “You don’t have much of a choice in the matter by the way.”

She stood back up and began to exit the room, the other pirates following her except for two. The boy with the straw hat and another man, with striking green hair and three swords lying in a holster on his belt. The boy looked somberly at you as if he was against this whole idea. But the green-haired one just stared at you. As uncomfortable as it made you feel, you couldn’t help staring back into his piercingly soft eyes. “Come on, let’s go,” the green-haired man said to the boy, finally breaking eye contact and turning his back to leave. The boy followed him shortly after. As he closed the door, you had nothing left to focus on except for the itchiness of the rope, the empty stuffiness surrounding the storage room, and your worsening seasickness.

The following weeks had the same routine. Each of the pirates on board took individual shifts watching you during the day when they were just out at sea. The strange reindeer creature would watch you when they were out on islands. The first shift was taken by the tall black-haired woman. She would come in at the break of dawn to make sure you didn’t find some way to escape at night. You two would sit in silence for a little more than two hours, asking and answering some questions before switching spots with the blonde one. His company was strange, with him hitting on you at random points in your conversations, but he always brought you breakfast in the morning. As much as he made you uncomfortable sometimes, you couldn’t deny that his cooking was the best you’d had in years. He’d even let you take a hit off his cigarettes if you ever asked, so his visits had its perks.

The next shift was taken by the orange-haired one. The first thing she would always do when walking into the room was ask you how creepy the blonde one was. The answer varied on the day. Once she warmed up to you, she would bring you tangerines from the trees out on the deck. As the days passed, she eventually explained that the treasure you attempted to steal belonged to her, which you begrudgingly apologized for. On some level, you felt bad. These seemed to be small-time pirates, just trying to get by like you were. The more you learned about each of them, the worse you felt about your actions towards them.

Around lunchtime, the long-nosed one would bring you your meal, cooked again by the blonde man. This member would go into detail about his next invention he was working on in his workshop. You admired his passion and energy towards his craft. His rants and rambles were normally interrupted by the reindeer creature coming in for his shift, causing intense, yet entertaining, arguments to break out between the two of them. The reindeer was the sweetest of all the crew members, always checking in on your health and helping you with your seasickness. He would talk about his home and his experiences there. You developed a pity for the creature. His presence was calming, and you felt as if you could let your guard down around him. That would change as soon as the straw hat boy would come bouncing into the room, scaring both you and the animal. You would soon come to learn the energetic boy was the captain of the ship, which shocked you. But you soon came to understand why. His crew had a massive respect for him, even if he was the root of half their problems.

Being on the ship, you got extremely close to all the pirates. Even the tall woman from before seemed to respect you in some way. You enjoyed all of their company. There was something strange about them though. One morning early in your stay on the ship, you could’ve sworn you’d heard the tall woman say something to the rest of the crew.

“Whatever you do, don’t tell her your name. Your name is your biggest secret.”

You didn’t know any of their names. You had thought you heard some of them speak it to each other in passing conversations, but not enough to remember who was who. You had bonded with them, but if someone put a gun to your head and told you to name your prison guard pirates, you’d be dead in seconds.

Except for one.

Zoro seemed to be his name. He would come in for the last shift. His presence didn’t frighten you, but it slightly intimidated you. His habit of carrying his swords everywhere he went wasn’t helping. He was silent his entire shift, normally dosing off halfway through after spending around an hour sharpening his swords You didn’t even attempt to make conversation with him. You found out his name when the captain would yell for him to get back to his sleeping quarters. “Zoro! Your shift’s done, you can sleep for real now!” he shouted across the hall the first time it happened. Zoro almost bounced up from his sleep and gave you one look before bolting out of the room to catch up to the captain. You could hear the echoes of their bickering from down the hall as you giggled to yourself. At least he didn’t seem to always be that stern.

It seemed crazy to you. His name was the only one you knew, yet you knew the least about him. He had hardly said 5 sentences to you in the three weeks you had been on the boat. His stoicism was one of the things that drew you into him though. Something about his demeanor, how intensely he would sharpen his swords, how his worries seemed to melt away the minute he escaped into a slumber, and how alive he seemed when he was with his crew. It was enticing. You wanted to know more. You attempted asking him questions about himself, but the most you would get were one to two-word answers. The most you got from him was when your seasickness finally got to you, causing you to puke up the dinner the blonde one made for you. “Woah, are you okay?” he asked concernedly, shooting up from his seat. When your only response was a cough and more puke, he ran out of the room to go get the reindeer. One thing he failed to do was close the door behind him.

You speculated your options. You had no idea where you were. You could be out in the middle of the ocean. Or you could be right about to dock at land. If you managed to scrape yourself about the ever-loosening rope and sneak out, you’d be free. You’d never have to worry about these pirates again.

At this point though, did you want to?

You took too long to decide, the reindeer rushing into the room with his medical kit, the blonde one short behind him. As the reindeer gave you a dose of medicine and cleaned up your mess and the blonde one held your hand and consoled you, your attention stayed by the doorframe. Zoro leaned against the wood, watching the work from afar. What shocked you most of all was his face. For a man who seemed so disinterested in you and your existence, his brows were furrowed, his cheeks had a light pink stain on them, and a slight frown invaded his face. He was concerned. Maybe even a little nervous. But why? He’d never shown any sort of emotion towards you before other than sleepiness. Once the reindeer and the blonde one left, he continued with his shift. You noticed something though. He sat closer to you than he normally did.

You couldn’t tell, but you were blushing the rest of his shift.

Once he left, you sat in silence, thoughts racing through your mind, until you finally fell asleep.

You noticed a change in his behavior in the next few days. When you would ask him a question, he would respond now. And with more than just a “yes” or “no” too. He had more energy around you and wouldn’t spend his whole shift asleep. He would even let out a chuckle now and then. You didn’t know what you had done differently to get him like this, but you liked him like this. He was sweeter than he let on.

Something had changed in you too though. On the occasions, you would catch yourself looking over his appearance. The more you observed, the more you realized how handsome he was. His clear, warm skin, his hypnotic eyes, his striking hair. You caught his appearance giving you butterflies when he would walk into your storage room. Your heart skipping a beat when he would give you even the smallest smile. You would stare even more when he would nap during his shift. Noticing certain things. The way his breath would hitch sometimes. How he always slept with his mouth open and would wake himself up sometimes with his dry mouth coughs. How his chest rose and fell with his soft breaths. How fighting with a sword in his mouth probably made his tongue stronger than other men you’ve met. You felt weird about it sometimes. Almost like some freakish stalker. But you would feel better about yourself whenever you would catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye.

As time went on, the crew began to give you some more freedom. The tall woman began leaving some of her archeology books in the storage room to keep you entertained. The orange-haired one would show you all her marked-up maps. The long-nosed one would even let you out of the rope to test his inventions from time to time. With the door locked of course. And then, the big display came. One day, during everyone’s shift, they told you their names. The blonde one was Sanji. The orange-haired one was Nami. The reindeer was Chopper. The long-nosed one was Usopp. Their captain was Luffy. And the tall woman, who initiated your imprisonment, was Robin. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you. With each passing shift, you grew more excited for the next. To learn the next pirate’s name, and with that, their story. Until the last shift of the day came. And you realized.

You already knew his name.

“My name’s Zoro,” he said quietly. “I know,” you replied, bluntly.

Something felt different about this shift. You didn’t feel the same excitement you normally felt when seeing him. Without your connection to him before, his being the only name you knew, something about him just didn’t excite you as much. Now he noticed your behavior change. “You okay?” he inquired. “Mhm,” you responded in monotony. The rest of his time there was spent in silence.

You felt bad about what you were doing. This wasn’t his fault. Yet you were acting like this. It was almost as if the two of you swapped places. He was now the one trying to dig information out of you. And you gave him nothing more than blank faces and empty words. You wished you could figure out why you were acting like this, but you had no clue.

Today though, the crew was going to take an extra step towards including you. Throughout your time on the Going Merry, you had only left your little storage room prison a few times. To go to the bathroom and visit the kitchen on special occasions. But you hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. After proving to the crew you had changed, they planned a little surprise for you.

Robin woke you up earlier than usual. “Is everything ok?” you asked, still half asleep. Robin just smiled at you. “Come on, get up.” You looked at her confused, as she walked over to your restraints, untying you from the hook keeping the rope down. She took you by your restraints and walked you out to the room. The mix of drowsiness and confusion left you slightly panicked as you realized she was walking you out to the deck. She opened the door to a still-dark morning.

The rest of the Straw Hats were sitting out on the deck, just conversing and eating an extra early breakfast, courtesy of Sanji. They all turned to you once you and Robin walked out. “What’s going on,” you asked, still very confused. “On Thursdays, we all like to get up early and sit out and watch the sunrise. And we were talking about it, and we felt like you should join us this time,” Nami smiled. She stood up and pranced over to you, mouth slightly agape and speechless, and took you over to sit in between her and Zoro. You turned to Zoro, overwhelmed with emotions.

It had been so long since you felt a part of a community of people. You never exactly fit in with the ruthless bands of pirates coming and going on Jaya. Finally feeling connected to people, especially after you wronged them so horribly, brought you happiness you hadn’t felt in ages.

A singular “I-” was all you could manage to get out, a tear trickling down your cheek. “Just enjoy it. They’ll be at each other’s throats again in a minute,” he joked, getting a soft laugh out of you. He smiled gently, brushing the tear off your cheek. His finger lingered there longer than expected. You blushed. The butterflies were back and you caught yourself staring again.

“What’s that supposed to mean!” Nami interrupted. “Well, it’s true!” Zoro retorted, leaning over you to yell at Nami. The two began arguing as you noticed the sun starting to peak out over the horizon. “Shut up you two, you’re gonna make her miss it!” Usopp and Luffy yelled. They stopped bickering once they also noticed the sky begin to turn orange.

The pinks and oranges mixed together in a beautiful watercolor painting as the sun reflected its image on the ocean. The soft waves bobbed the ship up and down in a calming hypnotic motion, almost putting you back to sleep. The beauty of it all was so serene. Against popular opinion, you always preferred sunrises to sunsets. The representation of a new day beginning. It gave you hope in your most dire situations.

You lifted your head back to see the colors slowly spreading to the rest of the sky. Everyone to your right was in the same headspace you were like they were in some sort of trance. They were all cuddling against each other, Robin holding Chopper in her lap, Luffy and Usopp mimicking each other’s smiles, and Nami resting her head on Sanji’s shoulder. They all seemed so close to each other. Like a little family. Connected. You turned to Zoro to see if he was doing the same as the others, but all you found was his eyes softly gazing into yours, and his hand slowly inching towards yours. The minute he snapped out of it, he sharply turned his head and hand away and cleared his throat. You couldn't help but laugh at his schoolboy behavior. With your ego controlling your actions, you took his hand and slowly intertwined his fingers with yours. You could see a smile float onto his face out of the corner of your eye. You did the same.

The rest of the day was spent out on the deck. The feeling of the sun on your skin for the first time in weeks was euphoric. All you wanted to do was soak it all in. The Straw Hats must have been in a good mood today, because, with some extra convincing, you got them to finally take off your shackles. You spent most of the day sunbathing out on the deck with Nami. She had let you borrow one of your bikinis. You two were slightly different sizes though, so the suit was a little tight on you. You didn’t mind very much. You were just happy to be out of the same clothes you had worn for 3 weeks. Sanji didn’t mind either, ogling both you and Nami and basically worshipping the two of you. “It’s ok, he’ll get over it in a few hours,” Nami consoled. You circled the deck a few times to see if Zoro was anywhere in sight, but you couldn’t seem to find him. He probably went inside to nap away from the heat. Part of you wanted him to get the rest he deserved. The other really wanted him to see you in your outfit.

The day really took a turn when Usopp brought out the liquor from the kitchen. “I was saving that asshole!” Sanji yelled. “Oh come on, this is a special occasion!” Usopp pleaded. With some more convincing, Sanji finally gave in. You and the crew got increasingly drunk throughout the evening, Zoro eventually coming out from wherever he was napping to join the party. You all had even decided to jump into the ocean and swim around for a little bit. All except for Chopper, very sober and very nervous for any incoming sea monsters. He had managed to get you all back onto the ship with some very convincing pleading.

You and Zoro caught each other catching glimpses of one another throughout the rest of the day. Zoro admiring your figure in the swimsuit, and you ogling at the way his damp shirt hugged at his muscles. One by one, as day grew into night, crew members began to pass out on the deck, deciding to sleep outside for the night. You and the other members who wanted to go back into the cabin, Zoro and Robin, made your way back down into the ship. “Make sure you tie her back up. No hard feelings but we can’t be too careful.” Even slightly tipsy, she was still her stern old self. “Yeah whatever whatever, goodnight to you too,” Zoro drunkenly pushed off. You giggled and blushed as he took your hand and led you down the stairs into the cabin. Robin sighed to herself as she watched the two of you scamper off.

You felt your heartbeat get increasingly faster as he led you to your room. For some reason, the air in the hallway got thicker as you got closer. You blamed it on your tipsiness. But your heart slowly sank as you got to the door, realizing you had to say goodbye to Zoro for the day. He opened the door and stumbled into your room, leading you in behind him. He closed the door behind him, hesitating for a moment before going to wrap the rope back around your wrists.

He seems distressed for some reason, breathing heavily and avoiding eye contact. You look down at your hands, as he so gently maneuvers the rope around them. The butterflies begin to well up in your stomach again, the alcohol fueling their ferocity. His hands. So calloused yet so gentle. You can smell the remnants of sake exuding from Zoro’s heavy breaths. You looked back up at him. Were you two always standing this close together? You the butterflies keep rising and rising. You don’t know what to do with yourself. You’re not sure if you should run, kiss him, punch him, but you have to do something before you implode. Until. He stops.

The rope undoes itself in his hands as he freezes. His hands are shaking, his breath is heavy, and his eyes avoid yours like the plague. You were just getting antsy but Zoro seemed in distress. “Hey?” you ask, lowering your hands and dropping the rope to the floor. “Zoro?” You take your hand under his chin and lift his eyes to yours. You might throw up at any second. His eyes are so softly intense.

He brushed his thumb against your cheek, sending chills down your spine. You both want the same thing. Both of you are just too scared to take the chance. “It’s ok. You’re okay,” you reassure him, placing your hand over his heart. His heart, which happens to be underneath his bare chest, him having taken off his wet shirt earlier. His breathing slows, and his eyes move down ever so smoothly from your eyes to your plump lips. You catch yourself doing the same to him, and you inching closer to him. “You’re fine.” Closer. “We’re gonna be…fine.” Your lips barely brush each other. The gentleness of the kiss is calming though, as you notice Zoro’s breath slowing.

You brush again. And again. And again. Lips touching a little more with each meet. Until they fully interlock. The two of you melt into each other as Zoro wanders your back into a wall for support. Your kisses are structured, made to get the most out of each meeting. You’re both ravenous for each other, but you know if you go at each other like mad dogs, you won’t get what you want. So you both take your time getting to know the feeling of the other person’s mouth. You slip a moan out as Zoro’s tongue seeps between your lips. His kisses get slightly more sloppy as he runs his hands down your body. He feels the underneath of your breasts, the curves of your waist and hips, and finds a nice resting place under your ass. Your hands roam his cheeks and jaw, making their way to tug slightly on his moss-colored hair.

“Needed this,” Zoro whispers in between kisses. “Needed you so badly. But I didn’t know how.” He separates his lips from yours and plants kisses and hickeys along your jaw and neck. “I was always just too nervous for some reason. You make me so nervous.” His hands find their way into your bikini bottom and fondle your asscheeks, getting a low moan out of you. The alcohol must’ve given him a confidence boost. “Good to see you found your footing now,” you whisper in his ear. He chuckles, the butterflies speeding up in your stomach.

The two of you stay here for a little bit. Hell, you could stay like this for hours. Just soaking each other in. Feeling his warmth brought a fire into your soul. You could tell Zoro was getting a little antsy though, one of his hands moving from your back to your front, beginning to slowly circle your clit. The other hand went to your bikini, untying the back and letting it fall to the floor as his mouth moved to your breast. Waves of pleasure crashed through your body as you let him do his work. “God, you sure this is your first time?” you moaned out. He removed his mouth from your nipple to talk. “Never said it was, sweetheart. You just assumed it.” “Well from the loner vibe you got going on mixed with being on this ship 24/7, you can’t blame me for thinking that.” “Well the loner vibe worked on you, so who’s to say it hasn’t worked on others?” he smirked. You laughed to yourself as he got down on his knees.

Zoro slipped off your bikini bottom, completing the set on the floor. He kissed your v-line with the same softness he treated your lips to. He sat back on his knees for a moment to catch his breath, looking up at you, as if to ask for permission. You held your hand out to his cheek and rubbed it with your thumb. His eyes closed as he placed his hand over yours, as if you would ever take it away from him. God now this was a sight you could get used to. He was so infatuated with you it made your heart ache. He was right here at your disposal, yet you wanted more of him. So you bent down and gave him a sloppy forehead kiss. Once you were back up, he decided to go in.

Like most things he does, he started slow and controlled. He kissed and sucked on your inner thighs. Once his hand finally left your clit, you knew he was ready. He kissed your cunt, using his tongue to lick up your wetness. You could pass out right now if you had less self-control. Whimpers and moans left your lips, your hips naturally starting to grind against his nose, relieving the ache in your clit. You let him know what felt good by the tugs and yanks you put in his hair. He was a natural. Your guess about his tongue earlier was right too. “You taste so good, just as I imagined,” Zoro breathed onto your lips. You could tell he was starting to lose his composure with the way he continued to bury his face into your pussy. Your cunt naturally tightened around his tongue as he tasted you. Your hips began to buck into his face as your grinding pace increased, the butterflies turning into a white heat you felt getting stronger and stronger. Your bud was becoming more swollen by the second. Your grip on his hair tightened to make up for your failing knees.

You wouldn’t be able to take much more. Zoro wouldn’t either, his hand making its way into his pants to relieve his own bulge. His pace got faster to match your grinds. The smack of your lips against his tongue, mixed with both of your moans, was pornographically loud. Suddenly, the situation of Robin or another crew member hearing became an apparent one to you. That worry quickly left your mind once one of Zoro’s hands made its way to fondle your nipple. If he asked you to follow him anywhere right now, you might just do it if it meant this every other night. You felt he knew your body better than you did. “So pretty. So good for me. You make this so easy,” Zoro groaned between licks. “Zoro god fuck me please!” Your final whimper sent you over the edge as you wailed and came all over his perfect face. He licked up your juices as he finished his own job as well. Your knees finally gave out as you fell on top of him, into his arms.

He brought you down gently, straddling you on his lap as you wrapped your arms around him. He traced his cum soaked hand across your back and kissed your nape. You were more exhausted than expected, almost passing out in the crook of his neck. Even now, he was so gentle with you. “You did so good, darling,” he praised, kissing your earlobe. “Want…more…want you…inside me,” you managed to get out. He just laughed and pushed you up to look at you. “If you took me right now, I don’t think you’d wake up tomorrow morning. Look at you, you can barely keep your eyes open, sweetheart,” he teased. You pouted. “Oh, you feel that proud of yourself?” your drunkenness fueling your frustration. “No no no, sweetheart,” he chuckled. Once your frown didn’t change, he stopped laughing and pressed a kiss deep into your forehead. “I’m sorry. What I meant was, if I fucked you with everything I have left right now, which is the only way I would want to do it, this floor would leave us with sore backs for weeks.” You stayed frowning. “I want to fuck you right, the way you deserve. And I can’t do it for you right now.” You pouted more at him. He smiled up at you and leaned in closer to your ear. “If you trust me, I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You’ll be walking funny for weeks.” God, you almost came again just now. You didn’t notice how much your jaw dropped until Zoro laughed at you. You couldn’t help but laugh back in tune with his infectious laughter.

He kissed you with a fever behind his lips, then scanned the room around the two of you. “What’s wrong?” you drowsily asked. The exhaustion from you coming, the sleepiness brought by the alcohol, and how late it was getting was starting to overpower you. Zoro didn’t respond. He just grabbed your swimsuit and helped you put it back on, tightened your legs around his hips, and hoisted you up as he stood. You decided to ask questions once you had a clearer idea of what was happening. He opened the door and walked with you down the hallway, passing the girl’s quarters and into the men’s room. He checked inside quickly before bringing you in and signaling you to bring your legs down. You confusedly followed him to his bed as he groaned, rubbed his back, and sat down on the edge of the bunk. “Wanna explain to me what you’re doing?” you asked, slightly more awake. “If you think I’m just gonna leave you to sleep alone, tied up, on that dirty floor after what we just did, then you must think I’m a really shitty guy,” Zoro quipped before getting under the covers and trying to pull you down. You put some resistance towards him though.

“B-but Zoro, I’m not supposed to be in here.”

“I know.”

“If someone catches me in here we’re both fucked.”

“They won’t catch you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ll wake up before Robin starts her shift.”

“Are you sure, I mean I just don’t kn-.”

“Hey.”

You stop your nervous rabbling and look at him as he sits back up. “Do you want to go back and sleep on the cold, dirty, hard floor?” You really didn’t. “No.” “Then stay here with me.” “But what if-.” “Do you trust me?”

You sure hope you did after all of that. His kind eyes reassured you in the darkness surrounding the two of you. You took a deep breath and nodded. “Do you trust me?” he asked again. “I trust you, Zoro,” you confirmed. He smiled kindly at you. “You’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.” He steadied you by placing his hands on your hips, running his hands along your waist, and pressing his lips into your tummy. You loved the way he looked at you. Like you were his whole world. It was comforting.

He took your hand and helped you into bed. You bundled yourself under the covers and wrapped yourself around his frame. He kissed your temples one more time before slipping into sleep, his light snores hypnotizing you into a slumber of your own.

The last thing you remember before dozing off was the feeling of his hands on your waist.

Everything you wanted was right here. In front of you. Straight out of a dream. Your only fear was that it would be gone once you woke up.

a/n: THIS TOOK FOREVER GOOD LORD. anyways thanks for being here for my comeback era lol. my upload schedule is NOT going to be consistent this is just a little splurge i wanted to write lol. thank you for reading i really appreciate it (i also really appreciate engagement lol please like repost comment etc im greedy). i love one piece and i love zoro. once i meet law expect all hell to break loose im gonna write so much fanfiction about him its concerning hes so fine im so excited. anyways lol thanks love you bye.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa #one piece zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #x reader #zoro x reader

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shamachan · 3 months ago

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Sick rainy morning.

Tamarack × gn! Reader sketch.

it was heavily raining outside, raindrops falling on windows of the room where you are make a dull sound. yesterday was exactly the same stormy day, and you had the misfortune of getting caught in the rain and soaking wet, so this way you got ill.

you were trying to fall sleep, the TV was quietly making some noise in the background while you were lying on the couch. your tired eyes were looking somewhere at the ceiling.

you think that this morning wasn't quite pleasant for you.

already half asleep, you heard a knock on the door. you were groggy, and someone is distracting you from sleeping... expecting that it was most likely your mother, you waited for a couple more minutes.

the rhythmic knock on the door is repeated one more time, and now you have a feeling that you need to get up and open the door. instead of finding your mom on the porch of the house, you see your friendly neighbour shooting a shy wave at you. Tamarack was holding a plastic bag in her hand, and with the other hand adjusting an unruly strand of her pretty hair.

you froze, looking at her in pure shock. you don't know why, but you didn't expect at all that Tama would want to visit you.

Tammy sighed quietly, smiling kindly. "hey." she's now talking in a more gentle tone as she notice your messy appearance. "I heard you were sick, so I thought I'd pop by and get you some stuff to help." She paused for a few seconds, looking away awkwardly. "...if you don't mind me, of course."

you exhaled, smiling weakly. you still felt sick from the weakness that seemed to have consumed your entire body but Tamarack presence definitely made it easier. Tamarack made your life much easier overall. how could you mind her? "It's okay, I'm happy to see you here. come on in." your voice was a little hoarse so you had to cough a little. this, surprisingly, caused a quiet, melodious laugh from Tammy while she was walking in. this giggle of hers made you blush slightly, while panicking a little. "why laughing?" you asked her, feeling slightly confused. "um, sorry, it's nothing, just..." she already take off her top layer of clothing, now slightly nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "nice to see you so homey for the first time in a long while. i think you look really nice." now you were both chuckling. now you were united but the same, soothing feeling. the feeling of peace between you and her.

now it seems like this rainy sick morning could still be fixed.

——————————

an important message! ! !

I was not sure I can manage social media properly because of my frequent disappearances. I took it too seriously and demandingly, so I think I got burnout because of my writing here.

so i decided, from now on i will most likely mix my writing with off-topic and my other hobbies.

thank you for understanding! ,')

ps I would love to get some piece of an advice on how I can start writing better!

#olnf #our life #our life now and forever #tamarack baumann #our life tamarack #tamarack x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #illness #headcanons

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tu-sugar-mami · 2 years ago

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Hi! I'm wondering if you can write how Alcina would react if she found her dobbelgänger? Someone who looks Identical to her and it would probably be one of her maidens. People probably gossip about it too. I want to see Y/N's reaction to it too so like maybe they are together and they see a maiden pass by who looks exactly like Alcina. Lipstick and everything.

(I didn't see any other requests like this so I said why not request this one cause the idea is so interesting)

-Milkie

Hii!! Thank you so much for sending this 🥰 This sounds interesting, yes! I don't think I've read anything like it before and it's an honour you thought of me for this ✨✨✨ sorry it took me so long, I got carried away and then didn't know how to finish it 😅 although, I don't really know of this is what you had in mind but I went a bit angsty there. Hope you like it! 💖💖

Words: 1800

Tags: angst, a bit of humour, implied feelings, sad stuff, kinds good ending?

_________________________________________

Being Lady Dimitrescu's personal maid is no easy job, especially since the responsibility of bringing her every wish and/or demand could become slightly complicated. There's only so much you can do with your short legs scurrying around in such a grand castle.

Despite being almost always busy, you do find some time to enjoy a cup or two of that sweet tea you love so much, and love it even more when you share it with your Lady.

Climbing up the stairs you somehow manage to balance a tray with the needed assortment of ceramics with a teapot full of very hot water on one hand and a quite heavy stack of important documents on the other. Your focus is split between not dropping the platter and reading the stack of papers in your hands trying to find the listing error in the first page (a job usually reserved for one of the daughters) and you find yourself so enthralled by the task that it's only when you reach the hallway that your focus is interrupted by an approaching figure.

Without raising your gaze from the documents, the corner of your eye catches a glimpse of a familiar face. A smile blossoms in your lips at the passing woman, but confusion settles in you. You're sure the Lady is in her study at this time of the day, but you pay it no mind, surely she has a reason to leave her sacred workspace.

Turning to the left, you ask for a miracle to help you open the door while your hands are occupied. Luckily, being crafty and resourceful was a requirement in the job description, and with a push of your elbow onto the doorknob you enter the Lady's office.

"Oh, there you are. I need those papers transcribed here."

The voice brings you to a halt as your brain catches on. Wait, didn't the Lady just pass by you at the hall? No, surely you're mistaken…

Quickly turning towards the hall, half of your body peeking out of the still open door, your eyes inspect the now empty hallway in search of an explanation.

Now that you recall it, the woman in the hallway was strangely at eye level, unlike your Lady, so perhaps she was only a maid you just didn't see correctly.

Well, it's been some stressful days lately, and you suppose your mind is tired.

Deciding to think nothing of it, you pour the Lady some tea and prepare yourself for the upcoming ache in your hands (the typewriter makes the job easier, but doesn't mean it's less tedious).

It's around late afternoon when you and The Lady find yourselves strolling through the halls in an attempt to dissipate the headache that the stress has caused on the Matriarch. It's also around that late afternoon that you stumble upon her…

A few moments pass by before you do a double take and your hand shoots towards your Lady's skirt in order to stop her from walking away.

Alcina isn't thrilled, and if it was any other maid she would have already have them paid for their transgression, but as it's almost a custom now, she only rolls her eyes and turns to see what has you so busy that you can't even speak to properly ask her to sto–

As soon as Alcina turns she sees the reason. She sees her.

An exact copy of the great Lady Dimitrescu is busy dusting one of the giant flower pots in the hall.

She is identical, in every way but the height and skin. How did you not notice her before? You're pretty sure you would have seen the close resemblance right away, unless… The daughters are always the ones in charge of 'welcoming' the new batches of maids that come in every month or so, and knowing them, they don't dwell in appearances unless they find one of the morsels to be especially interesting. Perhaps that's why such a sight slipped right by you.

You wouldn't believe it if the maid wasn't standing right in front of you.

She had the same high cheekbones and soft jaw as your Lady, that much is evident, but what catches your attention the most is her eyes. That unique and familiar gaze that brings you comfort and reassurance is present in the maid. She looks younger than the Lady for quite a few years, although you wouldn't be able to pinpoint exactly how many apart. Still, the resemblance is unique, more like a copy rather than an offspring. It seems impossible and yet…

You look to your left in a quick movement, ready to go back and forward only wanting to compare and see for yourself that your mind isn't playing tricks on you, but you stop as soon as you notice your Lady's face.

Alcina's expression is a shocked one, more than you've ever seen her bear before, but you notice something else within that stare. Her eyes become slightly teary, but despite your efforts you can't decipher what the meaning of the unshed tears is.

And of course, you can't possibly know the turmoil that brews inside her.

Right in front of Alcina stands the woman she once was, or more like the one she could have been. A version of her without her humanity stripped away, without the marks of betrayal and hurt, without the lines of experimentations and pain. In front of Alcina stands the woman she once saw in the mirror, like a cruel joke, in all her human fragility and ignorance. Almost as if the universe had one last way to mess with her and mock her.

Within Alcina aches the desire to touch, to feel, to have a close glimpse of what she was before, and yet the unspoken fear of the mirage before her disappearing keeps her hand grounded, and with it her body stays unmoving.

The Lady hears, among other drowning sounds, the judging whispers surrounding you three in the hall. Words from the maids that have huddled up at the corner, watching with harpy eyes the scene unfolding in their unwelcome presence.

For the first time in years, perhaps decades, Alcina Dimitrescu is at a loss of words. She would have never thought that an image of herself would make her feel so vulnerable, so threatened. And perhaps also for the first time, the powerful Matriarch feels…powerless.

Until your touch on her gloved hand brings her back from her stupor, that is, effectively stopping her from spiraling any further. Your hand, tiny in comparison to hers, is the anchor she needs right now.

Alcina turns to you, and what she finds in your eyes as you look up at her is nothing but pure adoration, as if you have already decided that she is perfect just as she is right now. Almost as if you've just chosen her out of the other more humane and better versions of herself in front of you and the ones to ever exist. The love and affection that had been so obvious to her before but you always put effort in keeping hidden is now shining through, unstopped and undimmed, and Alcina's unbeating heart for a moment feels full of life again.

With your hand now in her gentle grasp, she feels like she can breathe again, and with the newfound strength she dares to invite the maid for a chat over tea.

When the moon is already starting to show her presence above in the skies, after some surprisingly nice talk, something across the coffee table catches Alcina's attention.

Alcina only needs to see the mischievous grin on your lips once to feel another incoming headache. You've been her maid for five years already for goodness' sake, she already knows exactly what you're thinking…

…

…..

The Lady doesn't know how you managed to convince her to do this, but she's waiting with you hidden behind a stone pillar just after summoning her daughters 'urgently'.

It's not long before three buzzing swarms approach, but instead of her mother waiting they find a woman facing away from them sitting on their mother's usual chair.

Daniela confusedly sniffs the air, and she finds that her mom's perfume comes from the same direction as the woman, but she can also smell the blood pumping and a heart beating.

"Who are you?" The youngest asks with her hand already reaching for her sickle.

"Ah, my daughters! I didn't see you there, lovelies." The maid greets with a higher pitch voice, before turning to the girls. You have to give her some credit, it would be impossible for you to not laugh if you were in her place. "Come here my girls, mama has missed you."

"Mother!?" Bela and Cassandra ask in unison. Her eyes are wide and they're switching their gaze from the woman to each other.

Behind the pillar you watch the scene unfold, and your Lady's hand soon covers your mouth to prevent you from letting out a chuckle, although when you look up you can see an amused smile on her lips.

"What happened?" Daniela asks, gesturing wildly at the woman's body. "You look, good? Less tired maybe, a little tiny bit uh…less um… like this?" She raises her hand above her head and shakes her hand slightly.

"Holy Mother Miranda, is that really you Mama?" Cassandra asks, slowly approaching the maid.

Alcina lets out a silent chuckle and with a stealth you didn't know her capable of, sneaks behind Daniela, the closest daughter.

"She is most certainly not, darling."

Not unlike a cat, Daniela screams and jumps almost two meters before dissipating in a cloud of flies, before reforming next to Cassandra, her hand pleases over her chest, and if her heart could still beat it would be frantically hammering against her ribcage.

"Holy sh-"

"Daniela, language!" Bela nudges her sister with her shoulder.

Your laugh resonates in the room, and Alcina briefly looks at you, her eyes as soft as her smile, before returning to the girls.

"I can't believe they really fell for it." You walk towards the maid and put a relaxed hand on her shoulder. "Sorry we made you do this, let's go get some lemonade girl, you look a bit pale."

After you leave with the maid in tow, Alcina takes her rightful seat and pours herself a cup of wine.

"How come no one bothered to let me know of this guest? I should hope next time you do take time to greet every new maid properly, girls."

"We will, Mother." Bela says, taking a step forward from her sisters.

"I know you will." Alcina says gesturing away with her hand, and after her beloved daughters leave, she's left again to ponder about how just much she fucked up by accepting Miranda's gift…

_________________________________________

You can find the rest of my stories in AO3 as Lenchisus

You're welcome to leave your request!! 💖✨

If you love my work you can support me on Kofi

https://ko-fi.com/lenchisus

#request #ask #my fic #re8 #alcina dimitrescu angst #alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x female reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village

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daengtokki · 3 months ago

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Your story is like the first one I’ve been so deeply captivated by when it comes to serial killer shit, like I can’t explain it. Sure I’ve read yandares and silly ghost face skz story’s, but this one made me feel…disgusted? Like I’ve never had a fictional story about skz make me feel so grossed out. I don’t want you to take it as a negative thing, and if you do i apologize 🩷

I’ve read sooooo many fics through three years and I was a little bit skeptical when I first read the “serial killer! Seungmin” but I’m glad I kept reading cause I’m so excited for the next part.

What I meant by the “it grossed me out” part, is the scene where he killed the man? I don’t know why but I dead ass almost threw up, might be cause I’m sick and the only thing I’ve been consuming are medications. But holy fuck dude, I had to step away😭

Also!! I got so, frustrated? And confused? When she DIDNT LEAVE THE COUNTRY!? A MAN JUST KILLED YOU FOR LIKE TWO MINUTES AND YOURE OVER HERE KISSING HIS LIPS AND WHAT NOT.

But I think that’s what makes a story good! The minute a fic I’m reading is making me feel some kind of emotions, better bet I’m reading until the fkn end.

Anyway, pardon my rant, and again I really hope you don’t take it as offensive, but if you do I’d totally get it tbh.

Stay safe and healthy! Lots of love🩷🌺

Sorry I took so long responding, but I really had to gather my thoughts for this one. Apologies for it being so long and for me basically taking an opportunity to unload.

All of the "negative" parts popped out because I was so tired and out of it. And I was like “oh no please don’t hate please don’t hate the story” 😭 ㅋㅋ ㅋ I'm out of it today, too, so hopefully I type this up properly.

But I don’t take your comments negatively! My job as a writer is to make you feel all of the emotions my characters are dealing with.

So thank you for taking the time to write all of this out! Seriously. I'm a little floored anyone (this goes for everyone who has sent a message or left a long comment about the fic) has been reading thoughtfully enough to catch everything l've been putting into the story. We’ll be getting more into readers fucked up head very soon, since you mentioned that!

I’m glad these not so pretty parts have gotten a reaction out of you, because I’ll take that as me writing the scenes well! That’s very important to me as a writer, and as someone who has always taken writing seriously. I love writing simple fanfic that you guys can lose yourself in, because that’s why I picked up ff again after stopping for many years. And because of Seungmin, ofc. But this is also why I was very nervous about posting DEITY even though I’ve been wanting to do serial killer!Seungmin for months now. I knew it couldn’t be simple, but I had no idea it would already be this long halfway through (almost 50k words). After writing the intro and getting into the first part, I decided to just write an entire novel. I already had the plot in my head.

I don’t see many stories like this on tumblr, but I also don’t read much (I’m not exaggerating when I say all of my free time is spent writing) so putting something darker out there that wasn’t just oneshot smut was a little scary. I’m aware that’s what get most of the attention on here (short stuff, ott smut, ~imagines, etc) and why even though I have readers like you, I don’t have much in the way of likes and reblogs. It does get discouraging, but I’m pushed forward when I think about all of you reading each part.

So ANYWAY. Sorry this got so long. Thank you so much for your reblogs and your comments on those reblogs. It’s so important to me and the other writers on tumblr.

And thank you Seungmin for being my muse. I wouldn’t be writing every day again without you making me so delusional.

Again, sorry if this is too much and none of it makes sense. I took too much of one of my meds today and I’m very dizzy and lethargic from it.

#answered #babrieeee #kim seungmin fanfic #DEITY ksm

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countlessrealities · 6 months ago

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[OOC] I had this thought buzzing around my brain all week, so I'm putting it down in hope that it'll leave me alone 🙄 The important part is the one ABOVE the cut, you can ignore the stuff under it.

Small reminder that if, at any point, you decide that you're no longer interested in interacting with me, you can freely do so! Absolutely NO hard feelings.

I just ask you to softblock or block me, so if we have threads I'll know not to answer to any thread / interaction we have ongoing.

I really wanted to put that out there bc I've been feeling very off around here lately. Being tired all the time surely doesn't help me being objective, but it's not something I can help.

I feel like I made the mistake of wearing myself too thin in the last couple of months. I followed a lot of new people because they are amazing RPers and I really want to write with them, but...I also have an extremely demanding job that takes up most of my time and energy, both mental and physical. Perks of working int he health system, you're constantly on the verge of a burnout if you do your job properly.

Many of the people I follow like quick replies and constant interactions, which are things that I can almost never provide. Plus, there are a lot of other folks who write my same muses and it's starting to make me feel self-conscious because they are better with replies consistency and their portrayals are probably better than my own too =.="

Anyway, long story short, I feel like I'm the lame, unnecessary mutual and writing partner for plenty of people and my paranoia tells me that they are keeping me around out of politeness / bc they don't want to cause drama. If that's the case, I wish they didn't and just softblock me. I don't want to be a bother on anyone's dash.

#[ ooc :: mun scotty on comm ]#negativity tw #[[ not BIG NEG but just to be sure ]]#[[ just a gloomy rant under the cut ]]#;; mobile #[[ anyway time to go back to work ]]

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avissapiens · 1 year ago

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Jockbull Summer Final Week Set A (1/1/24-7/1/24)

Model Used is Tsonghan Wu

Here we are bros. I decided to end it early since I accidentally started the Jockbull summer in like the last month of Spring. So we’ll call this a season. 8 weeks and then onto the next. Additionally, interest largely seem’s to have waned and I wanna focus on giving some more stuff that’ll keep your attention rather than flooding your dashboards lol. These will be my last set of diary write ups. And then next week I'll have a retrospective detailing how things went and what I'm likely to keep

I’ll be straight and real with yall. This was probably the worst week yet lol. Mentally i just wasn’t here. Lots of stress and strain. I do have a new workout structure, that includes AMRAP pushups near the end. Diamond push ups that really tire you out by the time you finish all your other training, but its not quite the same or for the same purpose. I tried to sort my time table so that Pushups were combined with the times i wanted to work on my PT cert early in the day. But that has yet to really work out.

Keeping with the smite idea from previous weeks I managed to go on a 3 game win-streak. Total ez streak, possibly because my Elo was reset from not playing in such a long time. But dunking is still dunking and you still get the mental endorphin rush from winning. Only thing that broke the streak is that my Duos partner (yet another Muscle brained Gym bro that i’ve known for years) had to dip mid game. Tragic.

Since this is the last week and its even I didn’t throw anything out. But I am going to have one final push to get some of the last chunks of shitty oversized clothing out of my life. Gonna make an attempt to throw out 4 more pieces of clothing and then the lot will be going to the charity/thrift shop.

I’m good enough at this. I’ll use it more often. And I am 100% going to do that Bro voice file at some point in the future.

There is an episode of Baki where the main character is lying in bed with his girlfriend horny as hell, and they are about to fuck when Baki’s father, Strongest man in the world Yujiro, appears out of the darkness to cheerlead them fucking. And more than cheerlead. This man encourages the most relentless rauchy unending stream of fucking bitches from his 18 year old son. Literally morning noon and night boning down. It sounded like a passage from Alpha breeder. Unbelievable. Why doesn’t this show have more fanart?

A kind of gymbro failure story which makes me sound like a bit of a douche but i also don’t care.

I’m pretty regularly one of the bigger guys in the gym at any given time. Not always. And that’s not really a compliment to me and more of a dunk on the kind of establishment that my gym is. So this one dude has kinda latched onto me as his story for hope cause of all the weight i lost and how much i’ve grown. I think he’s convinced i’m going to give him the secret formula and not just tell him “Just keep training and eat properly.” He came up to me this week and asked if he could come and workout with me another day. Gave some spiel about needing someone to motivate him and keep him going. He’s another immigrant too. So I commiserate with that and I told him sure, even tho i don’t particularly like training push with other people. But then on the day he was supposed to come at the time we had set up he just…didn’t show. Which makes sense. I tried telling him, motivation should be internal. Consistency comes from discipline. But he didn’t want to hear it. And so the outcome made sense. I wasn’t super broken up about it, Just meant i got to train push on my own in peace and quiet.

#jockbull summer #jock #bull #jbs

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rubykgrant · 2 years ago

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(Here is my fantasy-adventure love story I have been working on! I'm just sharing the beginning right now, but I may post more later. I started writing this by accident, not expecting to at all, and somehow managed to make something that was surprisingly descriptive, and I even had fun creating it~ This involves a character getting an injury, nothing too gory, but there is a small wound and mentions of blood without being graphic. Just a heads-up! Fairly long, so be ready for that. I hope anybody who reads enjoys it~)

When I was still very little, and feeling especially unhappy, I left my home without telling my family.

I had no destination in mind, mostly because everybody knew my usual hiding places, and I didn’t want to be found. Not right away. I wanted to be alone for a while. Really alone, not just surrounded by people who were ignoring me. By myself somewhere quiet, able to think my own thoughts, enjoy my own company, and not cringe each time I heard somebody shout. All the shouting was giving me a headache that didn’t really end, it would just lessen then intensify, throughout the day.

I wanted to hide, but not stuck in some dark and cramped little corner, and that meant leaving home and going somewhere else.

I also wanted to make my family come look for me, to actually worry about me. That was selfish, I know, but I was young and upset. I was also filled up with another feeling, one I couldn’t find the words to describe at that age. I was somehow bored and hopeless, tired from all the constant fighting. Everybody in my family had their own problems, but took out their frustrations on each other, then sulked without finding a resolution. Nobody was trying to actually talk or fix anything.

Being the youngest, my problems didn’t seem as important to my parents and older siblings. I was pushed aside, sometimes literally, and had no way to properly voice what was wrong. It was like something in my heart or in my head felt broken. This was depression, I know that word now. Yes, even young children can be depressed. That feeling doesn’t care how old you are, it happens when it happens. I don’t think my family would have believed me if I tried to explain it to them back then, and even without knowing that word, I knew that I had asked for help before, asked for a little more kindness, and it was refused. I had also asked why my parents and my siblings were fighting so much, a true explanation for what seemed to be causing all this anger and anxiety, but I was not important enough to be answered.

To be clear, my family didn’t hate me. That’s the worst part, I know they loved me, and I loved them, but the love didn’t do anything to stop all the hurt. It would have been easier if they just hated me, but even then, I probably would still love them when I was little. You can’t help that, when you’re young.

Because of the painful feelings and the love that didn’t help, I reached a breaking point. When you are as young as me at that time, every decision feels like a very important life choice. Something that will change you forever. Obviously, as we grow older, we usually get some perspective. The decision I made to leave home that day was just the immature action of a child who wanted some breathing room, and later some attention. It still wound up changing me forever. I suppose that proves life is unpredictable.

While I was still oblivious to the things that were out there, waiting to happen, I thought my only options were throwing a loud tantrum or leaving.

So I left, and went farther away than I ever had before. I decided to try and go in a mostly straight line, so I could find my way back if nobody came looking before dark. I thought myself very smart for this.

I left behind all the familiar sights near my home, and at first, it was fun to feel like I was exploring a new area. I was on an adventure, which distracted me from my unhappiness. I intentionally broke several rules about wandering into places that were off-limits. I found a hill, one that rose up and turned into high cliffs. Normally, I wasn’t allowed to even think about going up that high. So naturally, I did. I should have stopped when I could no longer even recognize the shapes of rocks and mountains around me, but I was excited, and determined, and enjoying this sense of rebellious freedom.

I still could have gotten home alright, eventually. Then I got hurt.

I felt something sharp snag my arm as I moved around a cluster of rocks. For a short moment, I thought perhaps a small creature had stung or bit me, but that wasn’t it. There was something sharp and metal hidden in all the plant growth here, and it had caught my arm, above the elbow. It wasn’t very painful at first, but as I turned to see what happened, the sharp little metal thing twisted, dug in deeper, and suddenly my arm was on fire with pain.

I panicked, tried to jerk away, and that made it worse. The metal thing was, in fact, a barbed hook. Longer than the first finger of my hand, curved in a way that intentionally made it perfect for not letting go of anything it snagged. It also had a tangle of more metal connected to it, but these bits were thin and interlocked, like a chain that acted as a wire. This all snagged me as well, pinching and cutting me everywhere.

I didn’t know what this was. I had never seen a trap or a snare like this before. I just knew that it hurt, horribly. I also knew that it was making me bleed, and that turned the panic into terror. My stomach felt like a tight, cold knot. I finally figured out that I should stop struggling, or it would just get worse. I wasn’t able to rest in any position that was comfortable, no matter what I tried there would always be some part of me that pulled against the metal. After crying and then catching my breath, a new fear hit me.

A predator could smell my blood. I was so far from all my safe places, who knows what might be lurking out here. It started to get dark, and I did the only thing I could think of.

I started crying out for help. I screamed so loud it made my throat ache. Even if my family couldn’t hear me, there had to be somebody, somewhere. I hoped.

As it got darker, I panicked again, now knowing that I was too far from where anybody lived. I also realized that nobody lived here because it was unsafe, and it was unsafe because of things like the hook in my arm. Suddenly I was very aware of how small I was, and what a vast world I was in. I felt surrounded by emptiness… but it was a deceitful emptiness, because dangerous things were hiding everywhere. So much was unseen and unknown.

It’s a pretty humiliating feeling when life just seems to prove every thought you ever had wrong. I thought I could take care of myself for a few hours alone, I thought I could leave my home and easily find my way back, and I thought it would serve my family right to finally be concerned about me. Life had literally added insult to injury. The hook in my arm hurt, and even though nobody else was there, I was mildly embarrassed underneath all the fear. Insult to injury.

In my childish imagination, I pictured my family coming along, seeing me like this, and telling me it was my own fault, this was what I deserved for going off on my own, exploring unsafe places. I deserved to be hurt and trapped, shame on me.

In truth, they would be mad for making them worry, but they would have helped me, taken me home, and tended to me. Kindness didn’t come easy to my family lately, but the love was there. They weren’t coming, though. I was too far away, too high up. They must be worried about me by now, and probably looking in all the wrong places. Why would they even imagine I would ever come here?

Eventually it was completely dark, true night, and I started to think I would be extremely lucky to see tomorrow. I wouldn’t be able to sleep or relax while I was here. A big predator could eat me. Small predators could start picking me apart, and I wouldn’t be able to stop them. I might just keep bleeding until I died. Even if none of that happened, if I wasn’t able to get free, I would starve. My whole body hurt, I was terrified, and hungry.

The depression I couldn’t name seemed like a beautiful dream compared to this.

In the darkness, I reached out, feeling my way to the other end of the wire so I could try and detach it from the rocks and plants. Even if the hook was still stuck, I might be able to go home and bring the mean little thing along, if the wire wasn’t holding me back. It was agony to move, and my fingers were almost numb from pain and cold. When I finally found the other end, I realized the wire was connected to something large and round. Like a boulder, but perfectly smooth, it was made to be this way, and made to connect to the wire with the hook. It was also metal, and much heavier than me. Bigger than me, too. I couldn’t lift it, or get the wire loose, or free myself from the hook.

At some point, early that miserable night, a miracle occurred. I had no other way to think of it at the time. Later, I still consider it a miraculous event, even with all I’ve learned.

Somewhere up above me in the darkness, I got the sense that something was moving. Shortly after, it wasn’t entirely dark anymore. There was a strange source of light. At first it was a soft and distant glow, but different than anything I had seen before. It got brighter and bigger, before seeming to burst, shooting in all directions. The burst of light made a sound, and I heard it echo, sharp and powerful. The light was part of something, some shape I could see against the furious shine the light turned into. I heard a deep rumble from that shape, and then a crashing noise. A short distance away, something was moving downward, hitting other mountains, crushing the rocks. I couldn’t see it properly, but from that sound, I knew it was huge. The lights didn’t follow it down here. The thing groaned as it fell into the rocks, almost like a wounded animal, but it didn’t act like anything that had ever been alive. Just a big, heavy thing, like the metal ball, but it was falling apart.

I could feel the force of that thing falling slowly pass over me, aftershocks coming in waves, and with it a smell drifted over. I couldn’t recognize it, but it was unpleasant. It left a bad taste in my mouth. As the huge thing settled in the rubble it made, the glowing lights above changed. They seemed to quiver and flicker. As I looked up in wonder and shock, I saw a new shape moving. This thing was most definitely alive.

I had heard stories about strange things that live somewhere in another world, high above. They can sometimes look similar to us, but are completely different creatures. They are mysterious, and often very dangerous. They can abduct us, steal us away from our homes, never to be seen again.

The stories are mostly told to frighten little children like me into behaving, so we don’t wander far from home, or follow the towering cliffs too high up. I had done all that, just to get away from my family. Now that this was happening around me, I also remembered stories about these creatures making cruel weapons to kill us. Things like metal hooks and wires.

I was so high up on the rocks, the lights were shining down on me. Whatever was up there could easily see me if it cared to look.

After a moment, it did. The creature paused, hovering up there in place, and seemed to dip lower, rising back up, and pausing again. It was watching me. It was curious. I froze.

Another loud noise, another burst of light, another large object falling down, a little farther away. More rocks rumbling in the dark. The creature moved on, maybe deciding I wasn’t worth the trouble.

Then it returned, rushing down toward me. It moved with an intense purpose, as if it suddenly decided it had to hurry. I had no idea what to do, and even if I thought of something, it was impossible to actually do anything. I was still trapped. I was hungry and tired, no chance to escape or defend myself. I could only watch this creature get closer.

Soon, it was right in front of my face, and I was struck with an intense sense of familiarity that I never expected. The creature truly was similar to me, at least from the waist up. A head with a face, eyes, nose, and mouth. Arms with hands, and fingers. Still, very different. Clearly not meant to live in the same world as myself. The creature also seemed to be just as shocked to see me as I was to see it. Eyes wide and uncertain, but also amazed. Surely, this familiar appearance was a trick to lure in victims. Why else would something so alien almost mirror myself?

After a few moments of looking at me with disbelief, it moved away, rising upward again. I barely had time to wonder if it would move on, when it returned, even more urgent than before, and this time reached out to touch my wounded arm. I flinched, but couldn’t really do more. I felt the fingers, warm and gentle. Not directly doing anything yet. I realized, it wanted me to know it was trying to help. The eyes were pleading, no cruelty at all in the expression. In fact, it was worried more about my reaction. It didn’t want me to struggle and fight, making the wound worse. I held my arm up a bit, and braced myself.

It dug out the hook, able to maneuver the barb in a way I wouldn’t have thought of. It hurt, but then the pain eased, and I was so relieved I cried again. Then it helped unwind the wire from my body, doing some kind of trick by bringing the little links close together, moving them so they fell loosely away. This particular creature might not have set this trap, but it knew what it was and how it worked. Once I was free, the creature shot itself upward, pushing off the rock where the metal ball still sat. I thought about trying to find my way home in the dark, but with everything that had happened, the large objects that were now in my way, I wasn’t sure it would be possible. My “go in a straight line” plan wasn’t an option anymore.

I was also curious. You’d think I would have learned my lesson about exploring the unknown, but I had just experienced something that was utterly unusual and fantastic. It was impossible to resist trying to find out more. I didn’t think I would ever have another chance like this. The fact that the creature had just saved my life also intrigued me. It wasn’t an evil monster at all.

I followed it.

I caught up quickly, despite its head-start, and also despite my own injuries. I was built for swimming, after all.

Some of my fins were a little torn, but not in danger of getting shredded as I moved through the water. The wire had scrapped my skin and my scales, but thankfully none had been ripped off. The worst was the cut on my arm from the hook, but I covered it with my other hand, and could swim just fine without moving my arms. I wasn’t as big and strong as my older siblings, but I was a powerful swimmer for my age. Now that nothing had me trapped, I could work my shoulders, arch my back, and roll all that movement down through my tail, building momentum. Up, and up, and up…

We both broke through the surface of the water at the same time, and I heard the creature let out a high-pitched noise. It couldn’t breathe in the ocean, like me. That’s why it had been hesitant to dive down, and in such a rush to get me free. These beings didn’t just live in the surface world because it was their territory, it was the only place they could survive. I could breathe air, I knew that almost as an instinct, but also from experience.

When we weren’t out swimming through the ocean, we lived in caves with air pockets under the water. The ones that became out main homes were all naturally formed, but long ago our ancestors carved them out to make tunnels that helped the water flow through different caverns. Somewhere from the cracks in the ceiling, air from the surface would rush down. Somewhere below, from cracks in the floor, bubble filtered up. There was always air and water in our caves… but some tunnels didn’t wave the flows for water. Occasionally, me and my siblings would pull ourselves up to crawl across the rocks, trying to see who could go the farthest into these tunnels as a dare.

Nobody had ever gone very far, and we never knew if these tunnels lead anywhere. Partially because we would all eventually lose our nerve, but also because our parents would catch us, then scold us. If we wandered too far away from our pools and paths, and got stuck somewhere with no water, we might die. That wasn’t just an over exaggeration to frighten us into behaving. Being too dry never felt good… it was also an instinct, understanding that without access to the water, we would die.

Without air, this creature would die.

I remembered some of the old stories, about how our kind would have to pull these creatures from the world above deep in the water. Down so far that they would never be able to swim back to the surface, even if they got free. In the stories, this was called “drowning”. It was the only way to stop them from pulling us up, where we would meet all forms of terrible torture and evenual death, like being denied water until we became dried husks. At this description, I always imagined left behind shells when certain creatures molted, but shaped like one of us.

This creature had risked it’s life to swim down and save me. Now, instead of pulling me up, I had come willingly. I wondered again if this might be a devious trick somehow.

The creature turned to look at me, the sounds it made grew quieter, more even. Catching its breath. I hadn’t been sure before, because even though the creature was small, size doesn’t always matter. Now I thought for certain, this must be another child. Perhaps my age. I looked back, my face resting closer to the waves. My nose was still below the water, but the creature kept its chin up. With the urgency gone, I could tell it was was amazed to see that I had followed.

I watched as the creature moved their arms around to stay in place, and also… I wasn’t sure what to call it. The creature didn’t have a tail, like me. Instead, two limbs below the waist, and these limbs bent almost like the arms. It had another set of hands on the ends, but they were longer, and the fingers were stubby. This was how it moved through the water, using these two limbs. I wished somebody else was here, to see the creature. Somebody who would be better at understanding how it looked, how it worked.

The creature turned, looking around, and then swam toward the top of a cluster of mountains. Above the water, I could finally see what they turned into. It was a little like some areas of seafloor where I played, with small hills, and plants growing around. These plants were much different than what I was used to. It all looked more sturdy, somehow. Nothing flowed continuously up here. The air moved, though. Not quite like the water, but I was surprised to feel it moving at all. The air pockets in my home never felt like this. Those were contained. Up here, it was like the whole world was breathing.

As the creature swam toward a hill that rose out of the sea, I continued to follow, and we both wound up sitting in the sand, side by side. Waves rolled up around us, then went away, then came back. I had never seen water do this in my life. I had always been within it, feeling it around me completely. Even in our caves with the air pockets. The times I’d been able to see a clear view of the waves above me, at a distance, it had been in open water. Nothing for them to crash into or wash over.

It had a rhythm, a pattern, but occasionally it shifted and changed, the water pulling away for a longer stretch of time, and a rather big wave following, then finding the rhythm again. Bubbles turned into foam at the edges of it. Seeing the way the ocean, my whole entire world, moved up here was fascinating.

Out across the water, I saw the flickering lights. They were dying out now, whatever they were. I could see clouds rising from each one. The smell I noticed below the water was up here as well, and even worse. We had sources of heat in my world, and this smell was like when something touched that heat for too long. Burning.

I looked at the creature again, and found they had been looking at me as well. We looked at each other for a long time. Still getting used to the fact that we both existed, and also resting. We were very tired.

They were better at sitting up out of the water than I was, but that made sense. I noticed the creature had a scratch on one side of their head, above the left eye. They were hurt, too. The creature was almost entirely covered in some kind of clothing. We have clothes too, usually just worn for special events, or simply because we like them. Having clothes all the time gets heavy and slows us down when we swim. It must not be a problem for creatures up here, except right now, because those clothes were wet.

As we sat there and looked at each other, the moon began to rise in the sky. I knew the moon, even from a distance deep below the water. It was also connected to some instinct. The moon was part of the water, part of me, part of everything that lived in the sea. Tonight, the moon was round, bright, and pale. As if it wanted us to get to know each other better, the moonlight shined down on us.

Now I could see more details and differences between me and the creature. They had a slightly slender face, while mine was a little more round, but my chin came to a tiny point, and theirs ended in a small squared jaw. The features they had were defined, but not harsh. Graceful is the word I would have used, if I’d known it. Their hair was very long, made of thick curls. My hair fell around my neck, barely touching my shoulders, just a bit wavy.

This creature might not be at home in the water, but I could tell they had strong muscles in their arms. This strength seemed somehow fragile, though. Maybe that was because I could see another child there beside me, and sensed that no matter how strong a child is, it is terribly easy for us to be broken.

Eventually, the creature reached out a hand, and I touched it again. The fingers were still gentle. Nails shorter than mine, but more little rough areas of callous on the palms. Their face had a reassuring expression. They didn’t want to frighten me, even now, and I greatly appreciated that. They looked at my arm, not bleeding as much anymore. The creature carefully pushed the torn parts of my flesh together, attempting to close the wound. I didn’t know how to explain that wouldn’t work, as soon as they let go it would open again, but then I heard a ripping noise.

With their free hand, the creature was pulling off a shred of clothing. They already seemed to be torn and tattered in a few places. Once they had a section they considered to be the right size, the creature wrapped the fabric around my arm, tying it in a way that kept the wound closed, but still loose enough that it wasn’t uncomfortable. My other scratches weren’t as severe, thankfully. The creature still wanted to check me over, just in case. I have to admit, I was no longer worried about this creature trying to trick me in some way.

As they fussed over me, I was suddenly filled with a funny feeling of delight. I had been saved by a being from another world! They had gone to great trouble to help me, and were still concerned with my safety. Just as I didn’t have the words to describe depression, I didn’t have the words for how I felt right there. Many years later, I would learn the word “enchanting”. I had gone from feeling neglected, to desperate and forlorn, to incredibly lucky all within a single day.

What made me so special, to find myself in this moment? Still no answer for that, but maybe that’s alright. You never know when something special will happen. It doesn’t matter how old you are, either. Life does whatever it wants.

I was also falling in love with this creature, just a little bit. Perhaps not seriously, considering I was very young, and we had only just met, after all. Still, it was a very big feeling, and I had never felt anything quite like it before. They had rescued me, and were now caring for me with genuine kindness. How could I not fall in love?

When the creature was satisfied I was alright, they settled down again, sitting closer this time. As I watched them look out across the water, a new expression of utter despair filled their face. It occurred to me that the creature was alone, just like I was. Had they also left their home, and now couldn’t return? I thought about the objects that sunk into the sea. I’ve never been that close to anything like it before, but I’ve seen strange things made of metal and other material come down from the surface before. Some are very old, but others more recent. Stories told the creatures from this upper world make large structures for themselves that float on water. Some of them have loud, dangerous blades that slice through anything that touches them. That must have been what sunk before.

Now the creature had no way to move through the water without trying to swim, which wasn’t an easy task for them. We were also pretty far away from other cliffs and hills that reached above the ocean, so I doubted their home was nearby. The creature might have also lost their entire family when those objects sunk. Everything went down, deep into the water. They drowned. I was safe, but what about this creature? Who would find them? Who would help them?

I wished I could. I wanted to.

I tried to say that, telling them “I don’t know who you are, or what happened to you, but you saved me. Thank you for that. Do you know where your home is? Please, tell me how to help you,”

The creature’s attention was back on me, curious and confused. They made new noises, and it was clear we had different languages. We couldn’t understand each other with words, but… I thought about how they had communicated wanting to help me with their face and movements. I tried to do that.

I clasped one of their hands with my own, and brought it over to touch my injured arm, then pressed the hand to my chest, while smiling.

You helped me. Thank you.

They smiled back, and seeing the joy in that smile, I fell a little more in love. Yes, foolish and childish, but forgive me. I was foolish and a child.

I moved our hands toward the creature, until it touched their chest. My other hand, with the arm that had been bandaged, reached out to touch the same spot on their arm, above the elbow. They had no injury there, but I hoped I was clear.

I want to help you now.

The creature made a sound, almost like when they burst through the water earlier. Their head bent forward a little, and I saw their shoulders shake. They were crying. I had done the same, many times in my life. I knew how it looked, and how it felt. They leaned forward, just a bit, and the creature let me hold them in an embrace. We were different beings from different worlds, but we were also two children that were hurt, and lost, and alone. So, we understood enough to try and comfort each other. They might have just lost their whole family. Even though mine made me sad and angry, I would not want to lose any of them.

Thinking of my family made me wish I could communicate how I felt with them like this. I wished we could all comfort each other, find a way to understand each other. Two different creatures who had only known each other for an hour and didn’t speak the same language were figuring it out. Maybe there was hope with my family.

Soon, the creature took a deep breath, calming down. They briefly squeezed their arms around me, just a bit tighter, before moving away. It was a physical sign of gratitude. Now they looked like they were trying to think of what to do next.

The creature could see the area better thanks to the moon, and they motioned to me that they needed to find a safe place to rest. I watched in awe as they rose upward, using the two lower limbs to move. Now it was plain to see why the ends of those limbs were shaped differently than the hands. It was for balance, and the creature was much better at using the limbs out of the water. It moved along the sandy hill, and I followed from the shallows of the waves. Things had also washed up in the sand, objects that must have come from the same structure as… I felt bad, thinking of the one who saved me as a “creature”. We didn’t know each other well yet, but I decided to call this individual my friend. At least, to myself. We could try to find shared words to call ourselves later.

#writing #my stories #mermay #merfolk

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hananoami · 8 months ago

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[05/05] Deepspace Trials Progression

I was too tired to do this write up for my main yesterday so it’s a day late, but to summarize the only person who had any sort of progress today was Zayne, albeit it was at a serious cost to a lot of my resources aha... All I have to say is thank God for the Hunting Season event for Core Hunt because those double drops in protocores helped me get the core energy resources I needed in order to progress... ☆ Xavier : 0/3 - currently stuck on stage 110 ☆ Zayne : 3/3 - cleared stages 108 to 110; going on stage 111 ☆ Rafayel : 0/3 - currently stuck on stage 110 ☆ Open Orbit : currently stuck on stage 120

𝚇𝙰𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚁

I'm still stuck on Directional Orbit: Light - Stage 110-- it's been roughly 2 weeks now? No changes were made to Team 01 since my last progress post. For Team 02, I got [Fluffy Trap] and [A Captured Moment] from level 60 to level 70. No changes in protocores for either team as well. Additional notes:

Team 01 clears without much trouble with Lightseeker companion using Luminescence Blade or Hunter Wand (just need to group them)

Team 02 has around a full HP bar left by end of timer still; same issue with open orbit 120 (as they have the same team set up).

𝚉𝙰𝚈𝙽𝙴

Directional Orbit: Ice - Stage 108

Oh boy, this this is my most hated stage ong fr fr. Since my last progress report I got [Drunken Intimacy] and [Medical Rescue] from level 60 to level 70. Didn't see any improvements trying to clear the first wave of wanderers so I decided to go the upgrade protocores route. I upgraded the following protocores: -- 1 Ruby gamma protocore from +9 to +12. -- 3 Ruby delta protocore from +9 to +12 -- 1 Pearl delta protocore from +9 to +12. -- 1 Sapphire beta core from +9 to +12. -- 2 Sapphire gamma protocores from +9 to +12. All I have to say is thank god there was a Hunting Season event going on to give double drops event for core hunt. I got lucky and found some decent protocores I ended up swapping to and was also able to replenish my core energy resources. Overall, I had three +9 and nine +12 SSR protocores equipped. Originally I was planning on respecting the protofield stellactrum, however, I opted yet again to go off colors and used my Foreseer build with the above team set up and stat attributes. It took me a bit longer to break down the protofield shields one at a time since I didn't have a perfect match so was a very close fight. I still struggled to focus target the frenzy wanderer while trying to defeat it before the energy dissipated. Out of all of the battle stages I loathe frenzy the most. Note the blacked out memory in my screenshot is [Business Trip] -- for some reason the emulators don't properly render that memory amongst a few others in game. It's been a known bug? within the community so IDK.

Directional Orbit: Ice - Stage 109

This stage had the same protofield as 108, so I just went off the colors with the same team I already had set up, opting to choose higher leveled memories instead of having a perfect match. Cleared, but it was still a close one... -_-

Directional Orbit: Ice - Stage 110

Huzzah! We've finally made it here! I plan on writing another post about Stage 110 with my clear video. Will update this post with a link soon. Update! My clear vod post can be seen here.

𝚁𝙰𝙵𝙰𝚈𝙴𝙻

Directional Orbit: Fire - Stage 110

Since my last post about Rafayel's Directional Orbit: Fire - Stage 110 I've upgraded [Hidden Shadow] from level 60 to level 70. I also upgraded one of the Violet gamma protocores from +9 to +12 on [Whispers]. More details will be mentioned below per team updates.

Team 01 - No changes have been made to this.

Team 02 - I swapped out 3-DMG to weakened protocores I was using for 2-CRIT rate and 1-CRIT DMG. The ones I've swapped out had to be upgraded from +0 to +9. I also slammed one Violet delta protocore to +12. Tried out using Sea God companion here cause we rolled a few HP and HP bonuses substats, but it didn't really give me the results I wanted so I swapped back to using his Phantasma Sands. I still have roughly the same amount of HP bar left when the timer runs out. I'm working on slowly upgrading those +9 protocores to +12 now.

𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 𝙾𝚁𝙱𝙸𝚃

Stage 120

Not consistently clearing with Team 01; looking into switching protocores. Started to use my stamina to farm Emerald protocores, focusing on delta/crit rates. I'm currently using DMG to weakened, but that's not working out for me.

Need to go back to see what is needed for team 02-- but I'm pretty sure it's the same problem as Rafayel's Directional Orbit: Fire - Stage 110.

#love and deepspace #deepspace trials #directional orbit light #directional orbit fire #directional orbit ice #open orbit #;orbit prog notes #;sakura snapshots #;not me rambling into the void

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butterflyintochains · 9 months ago

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Calling The Old Man Out

Of all the people in Max's life, and on the grid at large, no one has ever had the courage to call Jos out on his treatment of his son. Either too scared to cause conflict, or too scared of retaliation.

Until, in Singapore, his new daughter-in-law does.

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If there's anything that separates Juliette Verstappen from her three brothers, it's an uncanny ability to tell when something bad is going to happen. She's had it since she can remember, this sixth sense for impending danger to herself or to someone she loves. She felt that crash at Silverstone coming, she couldn't even watch the races that cost Jules and Anthoine their lives, to name a few instances of this flaring up within herself. Juliette feels it again, once the family land in Singapore for the grand prix, this one has always been rough for Max, his white whale so to speak. The one he just can't get to work out properly. She looks to her father-in-law, if he should even be afforded the title at all, and her husband of a little over a month. The tenth of august feeling so fresh in her mind still. Max is, as ever, the very picture of calm, riding a ten race win streak. Jos, however, seems as cagey as usual. The picture of a man taking credit for his adult son's success. Juliette reaches for Max's hand, the hand his wedding ring is on, and squeezes it gently. They share their usual look, and get in their car to the hotel.

Once at the hotel, they go to unpack in their room. Max hangs his jacket up, Juliette slumps down in an armchair. ''God, I'm tired.'' Max lies down on the sofa, he says, agreeing with his wife. ''Join the club, liefje.'' He asks her. ''Julia, the look you gave me in the airport, is it happening again?''

Juliette says, knowing exactly what he's referencing. ''I don't know, it feels like it might be, but it's nothing to do with you.''

Max asks, half joking-half serious as he sits up to look her in the eye properly. ''You aren't, we aren't... y'know, yet, are we?'' Juliette laughs, she isn't, not yet, but someday hopefully. ''No, I'm not pregnant, amour, I'd know if I was.''

They order some dinner, and get some sleep. Out right away from the longest day of their lives.

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Juliette decides to rest up over media day, and goes down to the track with Max for free practice. Singapore is the race that Max struggles with most, the only one he hasn't won yet. Max doesn't let on about it much, but it does piss him off, of all the tracks he's won on, some much more difficult than this one, he struggles here. But, for all intents and purposes, practice goes really well. ''Feeling good about this one, Max?''

Max kisses her cheek, running his thumbs over the backs of her hands. ''Yeah, for a change, this one doesn't feel like a complete write off. And, it's a night time street race, if I don't get it, Checo will.'' Juliette runs her hand through her husband's slick dirty blond hair. ''Exactly. But, positive energy, okay?''

Max locks his hands together at the small of her back, they've always fit together so well, like two perfectly fashioned puzzle pieces. ''Oh, of course, love. And, my good luck charm is right here in my arms.'' She flushes, and kisses him on the lips. Just two and a half years ago they had to hide this, now they're married. Who would've thought? Some thought they were rushing into this, but why wait if it feels right? ''Charles, they're being gross again!'' They split apart at hearing Lando. ''You mean they're being gross still, Lan?'' Charles corrects him.

Max says, an eyebrow raised. ''Didn't see you both complaining at the wedding.''

Juliette jokes, kissing her husband's cheek before he has to go off for media. ''They're just jealous, darling.'' Max nods, kissing her shoulder to drive the point home. ''Damn right.''

Max goes off for press, Juliette says. ''Lan, Charlie, can I talk to you both, please?''

They sit down with some smoothies. ''What's going on, papillon?'' Charles asks his sister. ''You know that 'Julia Sense' thing you and Enzo always talk about? Well, it's back.''

Lando, Julia's closest friend on the grid, asks her. ''What's gonna happen, Julia?'' They and Max alike know her instincts are never wrong, so always take her seriously on this. ''I don't know, that's the problem. But, I am getting bad vibes from my father-in-law, that's for sure.''

Charles chuckles, stirring his drink with the straw. ''Don't we all, papillon, don't we all.'' Be that as it may, Juliette is married to that man's wonderful son. That's the paradox of it all to her, how does someone like him turn out a lovely man like Max? That was Sophie, it had to be. ''I know, Charlie, but anything he does or says to Max concerns me too now, I can't just let him hurt my husband.'' She can't, and she won't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her instincts are proven semi-right after Jos storms out of the garage when Max ends up in P11 for the race on sunday. Then, the actual race itself comes on sunday night. Before the race begins, Max gets himself ready, he's pacing the length of his motorhome, turning his wedding ring on its finger, trying to will himself to a win here. Juliette enters from talking to Charles. She says nothing, and takes him into her arms, breathing slowly, he follows her lead, calming himself through her. ''Go out there, and give it all you can, that is all I'll ever ask of you, Max.'' And, that's everything and more to him, from the most important person in his world.

Max presses a kiss just behind her ear, and says. ''I love you, you know that, right?''

Juliette presses her lips to his hair. ''I do, and I love you.''

Max is called for the race, he climbs into Rocky, and is wheeled into his P11 spot, he's won from here before, last season in Budapest. And, for his wife, he will do it again.

Juliette watches her husband on the screens from the Red Bull garage, finally Charles doesn't complain about her never being in the Ferrari garage. It's funny, the rings and her new last name are now instant argument winners. Max is doing so well, briefly dropping down near last, but easily making up for lost time after his pitstop. Carlos is runaway first, capitalizing on his pole position with ease. In the closing phase of the race, Max makes his way up into fifth. But, it just wasn't meant to be this year, Carlos wins. With Lando and Lewis rounding the podium out.

Juliette so wanted to be the first to greet Max after the race, as Carola does for Checo mere meters away from her. But, as predicted, Jos gets there first. ''How the hell can't you win this one, Max? It shouldn't be this fucking hard for a two time champion to win one race like this!'' He rants to his only son. ''You can win every other race, but this one eludes you, why? What's going wrong for you every time you race here?'' Max looks so much like the thirteen year old he was when they first met. Her lion brought to heel by this asshole, but, this lioness can roar too. ''Jos, that's enough, GP - can you go fetch Christian for me, please?'' Juliette says.

GP nods, equally protective of his driver as Julia is of her husband. ''Now, Jos, what on earth do you think gives you the right to talk to a two time champion like that?''

Jos simply shrugs. ''I'm his father. Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?''

Juliette flashes her rings, the symbol of her seniority in this dynamic. ''I'm Max's wife, I outrank you. If my papa ever spoke to us like that, maman would have killed him. Max fought like a champion out there, as he always does, no thanks to you.'' Jos is turning a shade of Ferrari red, good, he deserves it. ''I no longer have my papa, but I know he would never treat us the way you treat Max. My husband is a million times the man and driver you could ever dream of being.''

Jos fumes. ''How dare...''

Juliette says, cutting him off right away. ''I dare easily. I have loved your son since I knew what love meant, I love him unconditionally, win or lose. Why can't you do the same?'' She takes Max's hand, and leads him to somewhere quiet. Max collapses into her arms, shaking but not sobbing as she thought he'd be. Juliette is still heated herself, wound like a spring, ready to snap if anyone comes near them. ''Max, I'm sorry...''

Max says, finally breathing deeply. ''No, don't apologize, not to me, not for that. I guess someone had to snap at him someday, I just didn't expect it to be you.''

Juliette kisses his forehead, cupping his perfect face in her quivering hands. ''I'm your wife, Max, and I'm not scared of him.'' Max kisses her on the lips. ''I love you, schatje, I have the most lovely wife ever.'' Juliette says, finally calming down. ''I love you, mon vainqueur, my wonderful husband.''

After Max showers and changes out of his race gear, they go back to their hotel room, waiting for the inevitable social media storm to come their way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They're up early for their flight to Suzuka the following morning, this one will no doubt be much better for Max, he's always loved Japan. Juliette is on temporary leave from work, she'll be with her husband until this thing is won. Once they load up their car with their bags, they notice Jos is nowhere to be found. ''Where's my dad?''

Checo says. ''He's gone back to Europe.''

Juliette says, anxious now. ''Max, I am so sorry, I didn't want this to happen, I just...''

Max lovingly cups her face in his hands, and kisses her lips gently, stopping her from spiraling before she can start. ''Julia, love, it's okay. Someone had to step in, and I'm glad it was you. I'm an adult, I don't need him at every race.''

Carola says, looking fiercely proud of the youngest of the Red Bull power couples. ''That was epic last night, hermanita.'' Juliette laughs a bit, allowing herself that at least. ''Muchas gracias, Carola.'' She says.

They're driven to the airport, and board their flight to Japan. Juliette gets a call from her brother. ''Salut, Charlie, bonjour.'' She says. Charles just sounds impressed by her. ''Well, papillon, both you and Carlos are trending on social media today. Looks like you calling Jos out was caught on broadcast.''

Juliette puts her head back, and closes her eyes. ''Seriously? That man abuses my husband for twenty years, but I'm trending for calling him out?'' She dares to ask Charles. ''What's everyone saying?'' Charles laughs. ''Nothing bad, just saying how badass you are.'' Juliette breathes a sigh of relief, somehow hearing that from one of her brothers helps the anxiety abate somewhat. ''Oh, okay, that's good at least. I'll see you in Suzuka.''

Charles says. ''See you later, papillon.'' She hangs up, feeling herself calming down. Julia rests her aching head on her husband's shoulder, he presses a kiss to her head as she nods off. She can only hope and pray that this is the breaking of the cycle for Max, and for any children of theirs to come in the future, because Jos isn't getting to be a grandpa until he can be a dad. Maybe their kids won't get either grandfather in the picture, but that's a risk they're both willing to take.

#F1 fanfic #Formula 1 #Max Verstappen X Leclerc!OC

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stillness-in-green · 2 years ago

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Sorry, but if Tenko was the "lump of lead" that causes Shigaraki's anger, Tenko would've been the first thing absorbed by AFO!Vestige. It was already confirmed that it parasites on Shigaraki's anger and hatred. It makes him stronger. If Tenko is the only part of him that isn't completely merged with AFO!Shigaraki, it's because it's everything that isn't hate. The hands surrounding Tenko are supressing him (because Shigaraki was supressing his inner child), and even more appeared once AFO noticed Tenko's presence.

"<...> and here we find Tenko, still covered in those grasping, clutching hands even after Tomura cast off all but one of them months ago." Hm, it's almost as if Shigaraki keeping one hand is the main sign that his anger and trauma didn't really go away. "His anger predated AFO, after all; it was forged in his childhood home and on that long walk where no one helped him." Tenko hated the way his father treated him and the way his family didn't do anything to stop them, yes, but he didn't really hate them. His issue with his family never was as much about his dad and how the rest of the family didn't protect him as about not being able to have closure or grieve them properly. For example, the fact that his family was going to change and Kotarou was planning to go and apologise to his kids, but Tenko never found out about that, since they all were robbed of the chance to reconcile by their abrupt death. AFO giving Tenko their hands wasn't meant to preserve his hatred of his family, it was a reminder to make him unable to properly move on from that day and hate himself. His quirk was supressed by the guilt he felt for killing them. The only reason he "awakened" in MVA was because he recontextualised the events of that day to fit the ideas AFO put in his head, and shifted the blame for their deaths from having Decay onto being born in the first place. Idk in which world deciding that "Oh yeah, actually my family dying wasn't a tragedy because they were always going to die since destroying it the only thing I was born for" can be seen as Shigaraki actually letting go of his anger surrounding what happened to his family.

I normally just delete asks that strike me as being in bad faith or based on willful misreadings of my posts, but this is just enough on the genuine side despite a few instances of passive-aggressive language that I’ll go ahead and bite. The passive-aggressive language does mean that this is going to be a bit brisk in places, however.

So, first things first, I’d like to note that I don’t think Tenko is the lump of lead. In the post where I mentioned it, I said it would be “an entirely delightful twist,” which I hope implies that I think it is an unlikely outcome, one most people wouldn’t predict, and so on. But I don’t think it’s unlikely because it’s incompatible with the text as we have it so far; I'm just skeptical that the current state of Hori’s endgame writing can support an idea that challenging.

For the purposes of canon, I think the inner Tenko is exactly what you’re saying he is: a representation of Tomura’s fragments of inner goodness and innocence that AFO couldn’t completely stamp out, the shred of him remaining that still wants to be saved.

I just think that’s easy, boring, and I’d be happy if the manga could pull something unexpected by complicating what currently looks like a literalization of the easiest moral choice in the world—helping a lost and hurting child. I’m so incredibly tired of Deku’s simplistic moral blinders that only allow him to acknowledge pain if it’s shaking him by the collar and shouting itself in his face. He is the main character of the manga and yet he has repeatedly shown that he has little to no imagination when it comes to adult villains and their motivations. I desperately want him to have to confront the fact that angry people deserve to be saved too. Especially when that anger stems from the failures of the system Deku himself has promised to restore!

Tidily partitioning off all of Shigaraki Tomura’s rage to make it nothing more than an expression of AFO’s grooming frees Deku from having to face the wrongs his own society is perpetuating on Shigaraki and everyone he represents. I’m not for it, fam.

That all said, I’d also like to make some counterpoints to the issues you raised with the theory. Again, I don’t think the canon is going to play out this way, but I like the theory anyway and think it can fit into the text as we have it, so call this playing devil’s advocate.

Hit the jump.

If Tenko was the "lump of lead" that causes Shigaraki's anger, Tenko would've been the first thing absorbed by AFO!Vestige.

In Chapter 222, Shigaraki describes the lump of lead in his heart as “providing an endless source of rage.” He further says the weight in his heart will never go away. That’s very absolutist language! Endless. Never. Vision!Tenko could be the metaphorical heart of Tomura’s rage and still not have been consumed because he’s inconsumable; he’s limitless. Hypothetically speaking, the vestige of All For One (let’s call him VFO) might not have initially realized Inner Tenko existed because he wasn’t expecting that inexhaustible fury to have gone and personified itself!

The hands surrounding Tenko are supressing him (because Shigaraki was supressing his inner child), and even more appeared once AFO noticed Tenko's presence.

Two problems here. First, the hands don’t represent the suppression of Shigaraki’s inner child, at least not as far as Shigaraki knows, and it’s his psychology we’re dealing with here. What AFO told Tenko about the hands—both his family’s and those of the thugs—was that he should use them to preserve the emotions associated with their deaths. And in the case of both the thugs and Shigaraki’s father—by far the most significant of the hands for most of the story—the principal emotion in question is frustrated rage.

I also don’t particularly think that Shigaraki is suppressing his inner child anymore, at least when he’s in his own mind. Look at the mindscape scene in 270. There, he fluidly shifts between his adult self, black-haired Tenko (with the eye scar he gave himself from scratching but without the lip scar from Kotarou/the gardening tool), and the boy with graying hair from the streets—he’s recognized and amalgamated all those different selves; he even tells Nao and Hana that it’s fine, that he’s okay. He kills Kotarou again with a smile, fully in control and aware, even in the body of his five-year-old self.

Secondly, regarding the contention that more hands appeared once AFO noticed Tenko’s presence, that’s just patently false. No, there aren’t any hands on the Tenko that Deku describes feeling when he and Shigaraki clashed at Jakku, but that’s because that Tenko is just a flashback to Tenko crying right before Decay activates, and only Deku’s description of his impression, at that. But once the audience starts seeing Inner Tenko directly, rather than via Deku, the hands are already there.

On the left is Inner Tenko at the end of the scene with the “death” of New Order, well before VFO had picked up on his presence; on the right is the scene after Tenko’s outburst to Mirio. In fact, there are more hands in the scene from before Tenko is discovered (though the disparity is not so stark that I get the impression Horikoshi meant for us to go in and count)!

Looping back to 270, there are a lot of hands in Shigaraki’s vision there, but they’re all ambient, just kind of floating around, not grabbing at him until the memory of Kotarou appears. Shigaraki destroys that one, and is again hand-free until he goes to approach VFO. His family appear again and Shigaraki rejects them, destroying all of them and telling them not to reject who he is. While he retains control, Shigaraki is able to push the hands aside, just as he discarded them in Deika. It’s only the Inner Tenko that surfaces after Shigaraki loses control that sits surrounded in and clung to by those hands, never making an attempt to push them away—hands the explicit purpose of which was to preserve an emotional state.

Tenko hated the way his father treated him and the way his family didn't do anything to stop them, yes, but he didn't really hate them. His issue with his family never was as much about his dad and how the rest of the family didn't protect him as about not being able to have closure or grieve them properly.

This one confuses me. I would buy this if you were saying that Tomura’s issue with his family is a lack of closure. Tomura went most of his life without knowing anything about his family other than, at best, tiny jumbled fragments that came to him in times of extreme physical stress, and Sensei’s claim that Tomura had killed them. He had no memories of them between the ages of five and twenty, so of course he was lacking closure! And of course he would have done better if he’d ever been able to process that horrible tragedy.

But you said Tenko’s issues, not Tomura’s, and I would contend that Tenko’s issues—and especially Inner Child Tenko’s issues—are all about the way his family treated him, and about his long walk. That’s the moment he’s trapped in, the moment he can’t get away from, the moment he was never saved from. And his feelings about his family in that moment? He says it at the end of 235, “I hate everyone.”

And yeah, of course, that’s him as an upset child; obviously the words of a 5-year-old in emotional distress do not represent the totality of his feelings when he isn’t in a crisis situation. But it’s not like Tenko resenting his family is some kind of huge swerve or fluke; everything Tomura narrates through his flashbacks at the climax of Deika is about how he was rejected. We can see on the page a representation of his resentment growing, a tiny drop that spreads further every time someone in the family takes his father’s side over his, until by the end it doesn’t even take being rejected to trigger him: the final panel below, on the far right, accompanies his mother’s horror-stricken face before she even has time to react one way or the other to his distress.

We see this same visual effect in 234—before the full delve into the Shimura backstory even begins—slathered across the center of Tenko’s chest in the flashback where AFO is telling him to keep the hands close so that “these feelings” never fade. “These feelings,” i.e. the ones associated with the visual effect, i.e. his frustration at his family’s rejection.

It’s important to keep in mind, about the Deika flashbacks, who is narrating them, and from what point in time, for any given line. Tomura does a lot of projecting his current thoughts back onto those memories, so you have to be careful, in analyzing them, to distinguish between what Tenko thought and felt in the moment as opposed to what Tomura is reading onto himself in retrospect. In that sense, one moment that’s always stood out to me is the panel in 237 where Tenko is looking at the retreating back of the old woman who approached him but then shied away.

In assessing the nature of Tomura’s grievances, you have to consider what he already knew and thought before being picked up by All For One. And here, we see that even as a child, Tenko had a conception of what his itch was, what it meant, the causality he himself drew between him killing his family and his itch disappearing, only for it to return when people on the street rejected him. His frustration is not inherently AFO’s doing, nor is it adult Tomura being an unreliable narrator.

Inner Tenko—if we must insist on viewing him as some kind of separate-ish entity that VFO is trying to stamp out and Tomura is trying to suppress—does not have an issue with a lack of closure; he has an issue with no one helping him when he needs it. That’s the entire point of his reaction to New Order saying a hero will come to stop him; that’s the vision of him Deku sees at Jakku. Like, this isn’t even in the context of the Tenko as the lump of lead idea; this is what the canon is saying, that this boy, regardless of who he is, needs to be saved. Of course that’s what his issue is, not a lack of closure on his family’s deaths.

Now, that sounds perilously close to me saying that Inner Tenko is just a sad baby victim Deku needs to help, but see, that’s what I like about the lump of lead idea. If Inner Tenko is a representation of the boy AFO gave those hands to, an emotional state preserved in amber for 15+ years, well, we know what Tenko’s reaction was to “not being saved”—it’s the frustration and anger directed toward people seeing him in pain and then averting their eyes from him. Deku may see this as a crying boy who needs help, but Horikoshi has been pretty consistent in his writing of victims as getting stuck in their own heads, needing some kind of shock to get them to reconsider whatever negativity they’re laden down with: Early-roki Shouto, Kouta running off to blast resentful craters in rock walls, Eri’s state of emotional shutdown.

I don’t want Shigaraki to be a less nuanced victim than any of them, so Inner Tenko as the origin point of Shigaraki’s rage is an extension of that. He’s not some pure innocent, he’s angry—and he has a right to be! Deku saving only the innocent part of Shigaraki while not addressing his anger is basically reinforcing the message that only victims who look and act the right way “deserve” to be saved. And I really am not here for that.

AFO giving Tenko their hands wasn't meant to preserve his hatred of his family, it was a reminder to make him unable to properly move on from that day and hate himself.

Give or take the self-hatred, this contention doesn’t strike me as incompatible with what I said in the initial post? My comment was, “AFO gave Tenko his family hands to preserve the negative feelings from that day.” Saying that AFO’s intent was to render Shigaraki unable to move on from that day strikes me mostly as semantic quibbling. I agree that AFO’s intention was to stop Shigaraki from healing—he says so straight out in 234! But the method he chose to prevent Tenko from healing was to give him his family's hands and tell him to never forget the frustration he associates with them. The two ideas go, forgive the pun, hand in hand.

The only reason he "awakened" in MVA was because he recontextualised the events of that day to fit the ideas AFO put in his head, and shifted the blame for their deaths from having Decay onto being born in the first place.

??? He did nothing of the sort??

Where in this panel do you see Shigaraki blaming his family’s deaths on his very existence? Heck, when did Shigaraki ever even think his family’s deaths were due to an accident with Decay? What he grew up being told is that he murdered them, and he didn’t remember enough to say otherwise. When he does remember, he simply affirms the judgment. Heck, even in the brief, nebulous in-between period, after the deaths but before AFO found him, he still believed, “I killed my family,” not, “I had an accident with my quirk.”

The reader can certainly see that he had a horrible accident with his quirk, and we can see the way he rationalizes that accident as intentional, but Tomura himself didn’t “recontextualize” anything, because he never believed it was an accident from the start.

As to it being because he exists at all, let me finish up with this:

Idk in which world deciding that "Oh yeah, actually my family dying wasn't a tragedy because they were always going to die since destroying it the only thing I was born for" can be seen as Shigaraki actually letting go of his anger surrounding what happened to his family.

Again, this is a vast mischaracterization of what Shigaraki actually says. He embraced agency in killing his father—“I wanted to kill him so I did.” That is not remotely the same thing as Shigaraki believing this fateful inevitability you’re insisting on.

I assume you’re probably thinking of something like this panel instead:

(This comes before the flashback, but we can assume it’s still in the context of the flashback, as Shigaraki’s already talking about how he’s remembered everything.)

I ran the raw of this by Translator Sis just to get a grasp on what all the nuances are here, and one of the things that the English phrasing here elides is a distinction between all the speaker can do as contrasted with all the speaker does. A more accurate phrasing would be, “All I do is destroy.” This doesn’t imply that Shigaraki feels he’s incapable of doing anything else, but rather that he is not actively choosing to do anything else. Translator Sis suggests that there’s a sense of the elemental here, of a natural disaster doing what it does because that is what it is, not because there’s some question of whether it’s capable of doing anything else.

Is Shigaraki talking about himself like a natural disaster dehumanizing? Sure! Absolutely. But you seem to be presenting it as some kind of “gotcha” for the whole lump of lead concept, as if Shigaraki not sincerely letting go of his anger disproves the idea, and I’m not sure why you think that? Of course Shigaraki hasn’t completely let go of his anger—the hands are the representation of that, and the fact that he keeps the one recovered in Deika and goes back to wearing it (albeit somewhat intermittently) speaks volumes. And of course his decision that lashing out in a moment of rage and pain made him a willful murderer at the age of five is flawed!

But like... People are not perfect logic machines. Their reasoning can be flawed, skewed by a thousand different motivations, and they’re not going to inherently detect that about themselves like someone ran a grammar/spellcheck on their psyche! People can and do tell themselves all sorts of things in trying to intellectualize and make peace with traumatic, senseless events, even if a therapist would look at those rationalizations and go, “Oh, no.”

Shigaraki’s self-actualization at Deika can be foundationally flawed and still reflect meaningfully on his mental state. He can tell himself he’s accepted his family’s deaths, as in 237; he can look back with an adult perspective and claim that he’s over it, as in 270. That doesn’t mean he’s right.

When I say that he cast off the hands AFO gave him as a child and the anger associated with them, what I mean is that Shigaraki believed he’d come to terms with his past. It doesn’t mean I agree with him. Still, you can see via his manifesto in Chapter 281 that he’s resigned himself to being rejected, and has made the decision that, if the society heroes built will do nothing but reject him (and others like him), then he will reject that society in turn—violently.

Not because there’s nothing else he can do—because there’s nothing else he will do.

Resignation can, after all, look an awful lot like serenity from the outside.

In summary, please don't assume that just because I think Tenko had negative emotions of his own accord, ones that AFO did not personally carve into him, I therefore believe he is a 100% rational actor and a reliable narrator of his own tragedy. I do not. I just don’t think it serves the story to sterilize and damsel its longest-running antagonist because, whoops, the author can’t come up with a way for the main character to meaningfully overcome the conflict he presents otherwise.

#bnha #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #lump of lead theory #deku semi critical #that last injunction goes to everyone who's ever gotten mad at me for acknowledging that villains have real character flaws #as if i think that makes them less worth saving #i support saving a character named DICTATOR guys #i literally cannot be made to shut up about Hero Society's crimes against humanity even when they only affect villains no one cares about #shigaraki's justified anger and dabi's mild heteromorphobia are kiddie fare #stillness has salt #salt in the tags #stillness answers #my writing

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ridreamir · 3 years ago

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Imagine this, reader is at the store buying cold/flu medicine because they don't feel well and dr two brains shows up to steal cheese but when he notices the reader he forgets about the cheese raid (squeaky brain is not happy about this) and is like "you can stay at my place at least until you feel better". Reader is reluctant at first but does decide to stay for a few days. AKA some DTB fluff cause hey why not

It's hard being alone when sick with no one to properly take care of you. I'm not sure of your (the reader's) living situation in this exact short story, but I quite like the prompt and apologize if I have not fully realized your vision/ do not write in a way that allows this to have the substance it should. Edit: I've decided to write both a short story and a set of imagines both in the same post. It might seem sloppy or awkward to have them be put together but I was hoping you wouldn't mind too much. .

SHORT STORY

[As much as an interruption to a normal routine can throw a person off-balance, this particular change in pace had not been an unwelcome one. Despite being stuck on the couch and otherwise bored, his mind(s) were at ease knowing you were resting safely in the other room.]

Since it was one of the only stores around that carried over-the-counter cough and flu medicine, you had no choice but to toss on whatever clothes you had and make your way out the door. It was miserable having to walk that far for some relief, but your sickness hadn't been going away on its own, and you had no one else to do it for you. But, unfortunately for you, it just so happened that this particular store also had a fairly large selection of dairy products-- namely cheese. Perhaps not as much as the supermarket, but if he robbed in the same place too frequently, they'd come to expect him, so he sometimes rotated his hits to random stores on unpredictable days. It all happened by unbelievable chance, that as he caved in the side of the store and theatrically announced his presence, he quickly caught sight of you mid-reach for a bottle of off-brand cough syrup. All of the sudden, his original reason for being here was forgotten.

"Hoo boy." He placed his hands on his hips. "You look terrible." You deadpanned. Of all the times to run into him. "Right, right, stating the obvious. But really, you shouldn't be out like this, now what am I going to do with you?" He pointed a finger to his chin as if pretending to think. "Oh- Here, let me get that." He moved to the shelves, gently nudging you out of the way before sliding his arm along the entire medicine aisle, grabbing as many boxes of random medicines as he could. He then switched to checking the labels of the boxes, trick or treating through the upper shelves, and grabbing what he thought sounded helpful. When it became too much for him to hold on his own, he lifted part of his coat and draped it over his arm, turning it into a makeshift bag. Once it was full, he seemed satisfied with his selection. "Ready?" He spun on his heel and started walking, as if it was obvious you should follow him when you just stood there, bewildered. Once he saw you weren't walking with him, he waited for a moment, concern clearly etched on his face. If you weren't doing so terribly, you probably would have done the rational thing and ran for the hills, but you were sick and logic escaped you.

So you followed him. He dumped everything he grabbed in the back seat of his van and then raised a finger. "Oh, forgot something. Stay here a moment." He was off again, abandoning you next to a getaway vehicle, all the while sirens were approaching in the distance. It didn't take long before he came sprinting out with as many cheese wedges and wheels all while laughing like a mad man. Once they were also dumped in the back, he got the door for you and ushered you in before locking everything up and putting his keys in the ignition, hitting the gas. The tires squealed as he sped out of the parking lot and quickly wove through incoming traffic. This might have been just a normal Tuesday for him, but you weren't used to car rides being like rollercoasters and held onto what you could for dear life. He took one hand off the wheel and slapped it onto your leg, something which made you jump. "Oho! All tensed up!" He was probably referring to your thigh. "You feeling alright there?" You deadpanned again. If your sickness wasn't going to kill you, this madman certainly was. (He meant well though.) .

SET OF IMAGINES Though he has no issue taking care of his henchmen when they're feeling under the weather, when it comes to doing so for you, the task is exponentially harder. You must not be used to being taken care of, because you'll resist his help and try to do most things yourself. He's not sure if you just don't like being doted on or feel embarrassed, but he's not having it. Since he has a lot of stolen medicine (not that he wouldn't usually pay) it's just a matter of you telling him your symptoms and him sorting through the boxes looking for what he thinks will help the most. He tried to spoonfeed you at some point and it went over just about as well as you'd expect. After enough bickering back and forth he finally relented and just gave you the bowl but he wasn't the happiest about it.

He probably wants to ask about your living situation but doesn't want to bring up a bad subject whilst you're feeling under the weather.

If you're okay with him sitting with you, he'll drop his other plans and stay beside you quietly. When he's quiet, which is something a bit rare for him, you can tell there are things running through his head, and sometimes he furrows his brow or rolls his eyes like he's having an internal conversation with himself (or the rat brain). He can fall asleep sitting upright, and if you're awake, you'll probably be able to watch him nod off though the way his head droops looks a little uncomfortable.

When watching the news report later that day, you're labeled an unknown kidnapping victim, and the reporters call it "dangerously out of character" and wonder if he's moving on to new forms of crime. Wordgirl herself would probably pay a visit to scold him for kidnapping you, but once she learns that you're sick and that he was trying to help in his own way, she doesn't know how to feel about his 'good intentions' since he still a committed a bunch of crimes. She probably comes in to check on you herself, all the while keeping a close eye on him. She'd stay and talk with you for as long as she could before she had to go so as not to miss dinner at home.

#dr two brains #steven boxleitner #x reader #fanfiction #wordgirl #Does Squeaky care about you?#That is up for debate #Genetically altered rodent man and his odd ways of caring for you

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

Text

seeing someone else.

BISHOP LOSA. MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @encounterthepast: Hello lovely Aurora, can I request angst prompt number 7 with Bishop please, thank you, 💕

❝ prompt: “Don’t you dare to lie to me again”.

❝ request by @arveeee: Hello my dear, so I was thinking, and there is one sentence to that can't go out of my head. So it is: "let me in" with Bishop (I know I'm boring). Well I believe in you, I love you , and I love your writing. Say hello to Arya.

❝ request by anon: Hi, Aurora. I love your writing sm 🥺 I was wondering if I could request an imagine with my man Bishop? I was thinking of something like the reader and him being in kinda like a friends with benefits situation, but she decides to break it offf because she’s really upset. And maybe Bishop doesn’t understand so she eventually explains to him that she wants more out of their relationship and he reassures her they are more and they always have been? Maybe leads to like soft/romantic smut? Thanks so much!

❝ request by @meteora-fc: hello hello! so, that new trailer huh?😵 would absolutely love if you could write me something for a stressed out bishop with the prompts "Stop ignoring me, it’s driving me crazy!" and "Let me help you make it better." Thank you tons!!💖

❝ words: about 1.4k.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

Another tequila shot goes down your throat, ripping it off as you almost smash the small glass on the table. Tossing your head back as you rest your back against the sofa, sitting on the floor, you take a look around you. The gloomy has taken over your house as the night has fallen a couple of hours ago. It's the fourth night you are trying to forget about Bishop and whatever you two had. But you can't dismiss from your mind his caresses —his fingers drawing patterns on your back, his lips touring your neck with delicate kisses as if he was afraid of breaking your skin, his mustache tickling your inner thighs, his raspy voice articulating your name in moans. It's the fourth night miserably failing, remembering the last time you spent together, the way he was holding his back pretending he wasn't sad because you were leaving him.

“Obispo, it's over. Don't make a big deal. We're just friends who occasionally fucks”. You scoffed somewhat annoyed because of him and his interrogation, but how could you tell him you were falling in love with him?

“I ain't making any deal, (Y/N). I just want to know what made you change your mind and keep a wide berth”.

“I'm seeing someone else”.

"Don't you dare to lie to me”. He growled, taking a step closer towards you with the intention of stopping you from picking up and packing the less stuff you had in his house.

“Think what you want”. You replied, rolling your eyes.

The first tear flows in the left corner of your mouth not appreciably at first, but then, some more until finding yourself crying. You miss him so much. You miss watching him sleep peacefully in the small hours, drifting slightly when you caress his cheek using your fingertips. Flexing your knees to your chest, you wrap your arms around trying to contain the loud sobs, hiding your face between them. How have you been so stupid to fall for him like that? The two of you made it clear from the very first moment. Friends with benefits. But after a couple of weeks, you started to notice that he used to push away any other woman that it wasn't you, he didn't spend much time in the clubhouse preferring to do it in your house —cuddling, watching movies, playing poker; kissing every single inch of flesh covering your anatomy.

Reality hit you the moment he murmured something like you're a miracle, thinking you were calmly sleeping between his strong arms and your back stuck to his chest, no distance among your bodies. You knew it was a thing produced by the alcohol running through your veins and it wasn't fair for you to fantasize about the idea he was catching feelings for you. So you just ran away, like a coward.

Some clumsy knocks on the front door of your house bring you back to reality. At first, you try to ignore them. It's not like you're in the mood for visits, knowing that probably it's Leti at the other side of the place, worried because you haven't replied to her text all day. But she insists and insists. And you know how stubborn she can be sometimes. Serving yourself another shot and drinking it in just one gulp, because you're too sober to endure another of her Ted talks about positivism and what he has lost, you stand up on your bare feet. Everything around you spins dizzyingly for a second until you can react, feeling every knock like a hammer hitting your brain.

“I've heard you the fi—”.

Opening the door to receive her, your vocals get frozen as you face Bishop in a deplorable drunk state. Just like you are.

“Let me in”. He barks, not being able to look at your eyes, trying to pass you away to the inside, but you stop him.

“Go home, Obis—”.

“I'm home, shut the fuck up”. He frowns taking a sip from a bottle of whisky you haven't noticed till now. “You think you can kick my fuckin' ass outta your life by saying you're seeing someone else? You think I'm fuckin' stupid, queri— Were you crying…?”

From anger, his tone of voice falls to one lower and lower, as the concern and the worry cover his annoyance completely. Throwing away his drink to somewhere over the grass of your yard, he holds your face onto his palms. His touch causes you to tremble. His warm touch causes you to break into aching sobs, panting as you can't breathe properly. All this time you've been thinking you have missed him, but you didn't have a real idea of how it feels until his fingers have been laid on your wetted skin.

Bishop comes closer to you, touching the tip of your nose with his. You can smell the mixed scent of cigarettes and whisky emanating from his cracked lips, it doesn't bother you, tho. “Don't kiss me, please”.

Until this precise moment, he has loved your begs and pleads to his bones, but now he hates them more than anything he could ever hate in his life. It breaks his heart. He can't deal with your rejection one night more.

“Why…? Why can't I kiss you?” He asks desperately at the edge of his tears. “Please, stop ignoring me, it's driving me crazy. I can't even take care of my own shit without you by my side”.

Your knees feel weak at his words, still believing he only says that because you're just a good lover, the best in the sheets, as he told you once.

“I… I…” You babble nervously, trying to not place your hands on the laps of his leather kutte to finally push him into the needed kiss you've been craving for the last four days. “I love you”.

And why the confession doesn't take him by surprise? Why doesn't he look confused? Why does it seem like he already knew it? Bishop can't help but draw a fleeting grin across his face.

“Do you think I came here, falling into pieces, just because it feels like being in Heaven when I'm deep inside you?” He whispers, clicking his tongue slightly. “I didn't believe you when you told me you were seeing someone else. But the minimal thought I could have about it made me lose the less sanity I have”.

You blink stupefied at his own confession about his feelings. Your fingers tour his abdomen up in slow motion, starting to have some faith in his words.

“Mi amor…” Bishop mumbles in soft giggles shaking his head. “I adore you, mi amor. I don't want anything else than to share my life with you, and only with you”.

He doesn't wait for a signal from you to kiss your lips, he just takes what it's his. And you can't hold back a painful gasp, expelling in it all the sorrow you've been carrying for the last four days being separated from him. Your hands grip his shirt in two fists, pushing him as much closer as the two of you can be, about to melt in the same figure. All this time you have been trying to not love him, to forget him; and you were just delaying the inevitable. You are made for each other, that's a fact. Your lips fit to perfection —your bodies, your hearts.

“Tell me you love me”. You whimper against his mouth, causing him to smile because of your need of making it real by these simple three words.

“Love isn't enough to express what you make me feel”.

Bishop bends down without prior notice to wrap his huge hands on the back of your thighs, urging you to jump onto him and surround his waist with your legs. You haven't forgotten how good his warmth takes over you when he holds you like that, walking inside your house and kicking the door close. Guiding his steps across your place and its hallways, he reaches your dark dorm barely illuminated by a post light outdoors. He lies you down on your bed —a bed that has welcomed you for the last eight months in every kind of state. Drunk, tired, happy.

Now, you're a mix of them. Drunk in tequila, tired of crying, but happy for having him back for the rest of your life.

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MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha

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systems-overloaded · 7 days ago

Text

tw/cw: some ABA techniques mentioned with some details, TBMC mentioned no details

i had written a long thing in response, then tumblr crashed and its gone. so ill keep this short. parts came forward and wrote about a bunch of stuff, so i have more information about this.

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we were diagnosed with childhood apraxia of speech as a kid.

speech therapy through the school had ABA techniques used, by speech therapist and by teachers and adults i interacted with. they seemed like they were well-meaning, thinking this would help me, was for my own good. they did things like denials or delays of wants and needs, like access to the bathroom, leaving the classroom for lunch or recess or any reason, etc. i couldnt go/do/have things until i spoke "correctly" enough or they deemed i put enough effort in.

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Then seperate from the school, there was family and alot of adults, who used ABA-like techniques, and TBMC techniques, to make our speech normal, and to make us "appear normal".

They made alot of changes to behaviors and expressions, as well as our speech. Anything "not normal" had to go, so basically all our visibly autistic traits, and then anything that didn't fit what would be useful for them. Everything was micromanaged and needed correcting. These people were mean and cruel in their methods, their words, and their intents. They did not care what they thought was best for me, they did what they did because it was best for them.

cw/tw for below: torture methods mentioned no details, TBMC mentions no details

So, lots of phsyical torture, starvation/imprisonment, and electrocution. I guess alot of the time, the "rewards" for "normal speech" was for them to stop what was causing pain. They (the group) also seemed to think, if they forced us to disconnect from the body enough, they could make speech processes skip over "conscious speech processing" and go straight to "automatic speech processing". I guess they're seperate pathways in the brain. They spent alot of sessions trying to do this, and programming in various phrases and things too.

If that's even possible, then that does track a bit with some of the most dissociated parts having the least amounts of difficulty with speech, and per some of their journals, feeling like they don't control their speech, that speech just happens. Some of them feel they don't have a filter or play a part in things being said. They still say its very tiring (if they're fronting for longer periods), but at the same time they can't always control the words that come out. They don't think think thoughts, plan it and then speak, nor do they think thoughts and then speech happens, they just have speech happen.

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Here's a hypothetical of what I mean:

- Those who struggle the most, will see a banana, think "bananas are cool", then decide to say that, then have to try and connect the mouth/jaw/tongue to the brain and take over a minute to figure out how to do that before then trying to say it "properly". Sometimes they just can't, but those who can still have to go through that process.

- Those who struggle less, see a banana, think "bananas are cool", then decide to say that and within like 5 seconds might be able to say it with much less connection/planning of the shapes/sounds/timing/etc. Most still have to plan and connect but its so much less, and for some, a short phrase like this might take almost no planning at all. They still have the thought first, and the decision to speak it though.

- Those who struggle the least, see a banana, and say "bananas are cool" outloud. It's like most their thoughts just are verbal words.

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The me who is writing this, has no memory of these things. I do not remember most the abuse that happened. I don't want to not believe survivors, so I'm trying to believe the other parts of me who have shared this stuff. It must've taken them alot of courage.

But I really wish it wasn't true... like, maybe parts could be mistaken somehow? It seems extreme, surely this type of stuff doesn't happen? Surely its not possible to reroute speech to go through automatic processes instead of conscious ones right? They say they've always remembered this, that others simply had no access to the memories. That its different from some parts' experiences of repressed traumatic memories returning. (Or well, where an ANP of ours, became aware and experienced some the memories of a Trauma Holder.) And that they won't share more details because parts aren't ready yet.

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I guess, I'm mostly sharing this for other parts to read in the future primarily. To my parts: I'm trying to listen and hear what you're shared. I have a hard time believing it, because i don't want it to be true, that doesn't mean i think you're lying though. Thank you for sharing your experiences, for giving us all another piece to the puzzle that is us and the things that shaped us.

------------------------------------------☆---

Also, it seems the general consensus we've come to as a whole, is to refer to ourselves and our experiences as being semiverbal.

We're semiverbal with frequent speech loss episodes, and currently a part time AAC user. We're still learning how to use it, but it's been helpful alot so far.

We've been using combinations of: gestures and body languages, sign language, Text to Speech, texting actual messages to people in front of me, and an AAC app with pictures.

I'm hoping in the future, I might be able to get an actual tablet, so I can have an easier time navigating the AAC app. Also, so i dont have to disconnect my bluetooth headphones (which are doing Active Noise Canceling as well, a very very necessary for me), in order for my app to speak outloud for others. That's been a bit of an issue.

this is the trend afaik, about things in common with different alters (we have DID) that have different levels of speech and lanaguges comprehension.

(and then i have a question for nonverbal/semiverbal autistic people who might be reading this at the end, if they happen to see this? there is also a simplified question at the very end as well!)

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parts with little to no speech:

- their thoughts are as vibes and emotions mainly

- they cannot visualize, they just exist, and experience life through sensations as they come and as they go. they dont really "create thoughts", they just are, they exist and experience.

- theyre the happiest, have no trauma memories, or understanding of the concepts of trauma

- they dont front frequently because they need to feel totally safe, but theyre very happy and calm.

- (my assumption is they mightve formed pre-language learning, but i have no idea for sure. communicating with them, can be a bit hard to understand. they are more than just fragments though, but its hard to explain, they do have opinions, desires, autonomy, but its different in a way? idk)

parts that struggle with speech:

- generally happier and "normal" parts

- less intelligence, less reading comprehension and vocabulary. (theres a big range, but some would probably be considered intellectually disabled if they were a singlet)

- most of their thoughts are simple words put together (like, "want soup. warm. please soup?" instead of "hmm i want some warm soup")

- they are much more grounded into the body, exist within the body

- they do experience distress when fronting in the body, specifically due to nervous system dysregulation and sensory overwhelms.

- they do not hold memories or emotions of the major or minor traumas that happened to us.

- they do not tend to have anxiety or racing thoughts.

- their brain is very quiet, no background chatter or multiple streams of consciousness.

- theyre typically unable to visualize in their brain.

- afaik, for the majority with prominent speech difficulties, they cannot sing. (there might be a couple who can sing without issues, like how some with a stutter can sing without, im unsure how many can sing though.)

- due to being grounded into the body and its signals, our physical capabilities are much less. cannot push through pain, cannot do things others can.

the parts that have better speech (but afaik still have some difficulty with the motor aspect, although its minimal, i think. i have blackout amnesia to these parts. but this is to the best of our knowledge, correct.):

- higher intelligence, very smart. (interested and /understand/ concepts like genetics, medical research journals, quantum physics (to a certain extent), and learning other lanaguges.)

- tend to be extremely anxious, scared, even "paranoid" (though its legitimate based off trauma memories)

- they can visualize in their mind, with extreme vivid details.

- their thoughts are fast, with alot of parts talking in the background all the time, as well as just multiple trains of thought, and memes/songs/etc playing in the background.

- they have more knowledge about the things that happened to us, even if they dont always have access to direct memories (some do, some dont)

- they are extremely dissociated from the body. they exist above the body, sometimes experienced literally.

- they have more phsyical capabilities, because they do not feel pain at all until it gets to extreme levels.

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so my question for those who are nonverbal/semiverbal: id love feedback about what to call this? my speech issues are not simply verbal shutdowns or speech loss episodes induced by stress. id initially assumed that parts who were more traumatized would have less speech, but its actually the opposite for me. (personally i theorize that maybe the more traumatized parts are either way too disconnected from the body to be aware of how hard it is, how much difficulty speech takes. or they have more speech abilities, and maybe even intelligence, because they felt it was so important to be able to talk, and communicate one day about the things that were happening to us. so a bunch of energy was pushed towards speech abilities and brain abilities for those parts? im unsure, this is a guess. the other thing is they mightve been abused and forced to talk better, so they could appear "normal" and not be a stain in the churches reputation.)

a little of (non-trauma) history though:

i didnt say my first word until i was 5 years old, i had a significant speech delay. and id then gone through speech therapy and never actually finished, but the school wouldn't pay for more. i was an extremely quiet kid according to my mom. i would barely speak but i appeared happy and content she said. i did have desires to communicate, and would talk some, tell her about my day at school etc. but mostly i was pretty silent, in school especially. got in trouble for not doing "participation", of repeating things out loud, reading out loud, presentations. i just couldnt and i couldnt explain so id get in trouble.

but as a whole its fact that there are alters that can speak out full sentences and have a full conversation (like a drs appointment). i do not know if how much difficulty they have even matters, because they are still capable of it.

afaik, the majority cannot do that, they cannot have a full conversation like that. not without severe difficulty and/or pain, and then some cannot at all, cant even try.

what should i be calling this experience? would saying im semiverbal be okay? or no? because sometimes i seem to have alters than might be fully verbal? i know not to call myself (or my alters) nonverbal when talking to others (in personal journals i do classify different alters as semiverbal or nonverbal.) but with others, i say things like "i cant talk" or "im mute", or "talking is hard for me right now", etc.

no matter a label, im learning to use an AAC app and learning some ASL (though i struggle with moving hands/fingers right. like clumsy and slow, and some shapes impossible :c ). in the past, those who could push, do push. they push so much and hurt themsleves for other peoples conveniences, and its never acknowledged, and often those words arent even understood/heard/recieved. we have to repeat ourselves multiple times, and say it louder multiple times too. its so taxing, its exhausting (mentally and physically), and it basically causes actual pain.

its like, theres this brain and body disconnect, and my mouth, my tongue, and my jaw are all separate parts that im trying to consciously move, and im trying to get them to move through molasses, and they have a lag in response, if i can even get them to create the shapes i want. and with the pain, its like...knives/nails scrapping/slicing all the nerves/veins in my body.

but im trying to learn to do whats best for me, and what keeps me the healthiest and the happiest. and i think unpacking internalized ableism around using something like an AAC device is something thatll lead me there (to better health and happiness).

but im unsure about how to describe my experiences. afaik, everyone has /some/ degree of struggling to turn word-thoughts into mouth sounds... but id really like to hear input from people who are nonverbal or semiverbal all the time. thank you for reading if you did, and sorry that its so long.

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simplified question:

i have DID, so i have multiple alters within my body. to my knowledge, we all have a hard time with making speech. some seem to have less difficulty and can have conversations (like at a dr's appointment), others struggle so much they can maybe force out a couple words, and others cannot create speech at all. we have varying levels of intelligence and varying levels of understanding of speech and language.

i had a significant speech delay, with my first word at 5 years old, and never finished speech therapy because the school stopped paying.

these speech issues are not just situational from stress, they are constant with those alters. every single day, for the majority of my day, we cannot create speech. we can make some speech sometimes, but its not even half and half with when we cannot make sounds at all. and the alters who can speak more, only ever front for maybe an hour or two max, and maybe twice a month.

i know not to call myself nonverbal. but would i be semiverbal? can i call me (this me as a whole person with multiple alters inside) semiverbal? or semispeaking? i want to hear from those who are semiverbal and nonverbal.

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