#learned that recently and it made so much sense gOd

[notdrifting]

okay gringos i’ll say this slowly and you can repeat after me: NOT👏ALL👏LATINOS👏ARE👏POC!!!

latino is not a race but an ethnicity, shoving a white ass latine fc in your character and calling it poc while giving yourself a pat on the back for being OOOH SOOO INCLUSIVE isn’t the hot take you think it is bruv????

it’s even worse when ACTUAL LATINOS (especially those born and raised in LAC, y’know, those who actually know how living in latin america works) tell you it’s insensitive and wrong to do that and you straight up try and tell them that they are wrong and dont know what they are talking about???

lets get real y’all, if you do that you probably didn’t even want a POC fc in the first place, you just wanted that circlejerk of praise and shit for being ~inclusive~ so please, take this advice from your fave latine friend: ffs take your rachel dolezal bs elsewhere, ok??

[rottenlittlefink]

If anyone is worried about not being able to manifest with anxiety/ocd: I manifested more money and weed within a week with subs + robotic affirming. It being the holiday season wouldn’t have made a difference since the ppl I got them from wouldn’t have done so for me because one is stingy and the other is only an acquaintance/coworker

[loveanddeepdick]

gummy bear

❤︎₊ ⊹ childhood bff!yuta okkotsu x f!reader || gummy bear is ur nickname that he gave u as a kid (also, this is yuta when he comes back from africa.. heart eyes)

warnings: both yuta and reader are in their early 20’s, piv sex, creampie, yuta is a virgin but there’s no corruption kink, childhood bffs to strangers to lovers, men turning into putty, lowkey sub yuta, he’s just down bad for you, freaky ass perv yuta but he fries his very best to be respectful to you, reader is implied to have slightly bigger than average boobs but honestly interpret however you’d like, porn with some plot, not revised lol just horny as always

summary: it’s been a while since you’ve seen your childhood best friend, yuta. you haven’t seen him since he left high school to be a sorcerer and although you guys tried staying in touch in high school, you haven’t heard a single peep from him after he left for africa. you understood him, mutually agreeing that you two were simply growing up and exploring new. however, when yuta comes back a new man, you can’t help but feel new feelings growing

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

you’d recently moved into a new apartment close to your new boring, but nicely paying, corporate job. on a random tuesday afternoon at the grocery store, you bump into a familiar face you hadn’t seen in years, almost not even recognizing him.

“oh shit- i’m so sorry-,” you stumble backwards as you run into what seemed like a human lamp post when you look up to meet a familiar pair of black eyes, accompanied with eye bags. “.. yuta? is that you?”, you almost laugh at the situation, not believing your eyes. he had much longer hair now, deeper eye bags, but still had the same anxious eyes.

“ow.. fuck, hey gummy bear, haven’t seen you in a while,” yuta looks down almost embarassed from his absence. the nickname rolls off his tongue so easily, like it was naturally your name and it makes u slightly blush.

when you and yuta met as kids, he initially introduced himself only because he wanted one of your gummy bears since it was also his favorite snack. he didn’t even learn your name until weeks after you guys were friends, only calling you gummy bear and the nickname sort of just stuck with him. the story always made you let out a dulcet sigh, cherishing the innocent memory.

“it’s not your fault, yuta!” you giggle, “i haven’t been really reaching out either.. i guess we’re both busy. how about we uh, catch up?” you suggest.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

it had been a week since you and yuta had been reunited. and you slowly started to notice how attractive he’d grown to be. both you and yuta were sitting on the sole couch inside your nearly empty apartment, unpacked boxes littered everywhere as you procrastinated on putting everything together. enjoying each others presence as you both told stories about things that happened in your lives, you felt a sense of nostalgia washing over you, as if this was what you were missing for so long. you draped your legs over his lap as he lightly ran his hand over them like you guys would always do in high school. would this be something that only best friends did? probably not…

“oh my gosh, yu!”, you gasped, almost wiping a tear away, “you went through all of that? on your own?”. he stayed humble of course, shyly brushing it off as if it was no biggy.

he couldn’t help but trail his eyes over to your tight shirt, encasing the tits that he had not noticed back in high school. he swallowed hard, darting his eyes back to your face. the face that had only grown more gorgeous as you moved into adulthood. have you always been so beautiful?

“c’mon, yu, let’s watch a movie, like old times?”, you laugh. he nervously nodded before you took your laptop, propping it on the coffee table since you haven’t installed your TV yet. “sorry for the setup.. erm, well, i mean the lack thereoff”.

“nah, it’s f-fine, gummy bear”, he almost audibly gulped as he thanked god that you couldn’t see him taking in the sight of your ass pointing at him as you bent over to put on a movie. were you doing this on purpose? yuta had never been the perverted type. hell, he’d never even been the romantic type. you were basically the only girl— well, human girl—he’d been close to in his life. he averted his eyes as you turn back around. almost crying out loud as you cuddled into his lap, wrapping a blanket around both of you. like old times, right?

you enjoyed how tall yuta had grown (as well as the rest of him), resting your head in the crook of his neck as your back settled into his chest. “i hope this is comfortable, yu.. we haven’t done this in a while”, you mumble, wiggling to get yourself comfortable as he bites his tongue, praying he didn’t get a boner.

yuta instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your hair, subtly smelling it as he appreciated how your scent never changed. “m’okay, gummy bear”.

you smiled faltered a bit, having a small realization and shifting slightly off of his lap and onto his thigh instead, facing him. “oh god, i really hope you don’t have a girlfriend. we probably shouldn’t be doing this if you do!”, you frantically panicked. yuta responded with a curt shake of his head, his body acting before his mind to pull you back onto his lap.

you sighed in relief, wiggling back to your comfortable spot with more of a bounce than you should’ve. “oh that’s a relief, yu. i really missed you”, you mumbled, leaning back against his as your ass pressed against his groin, your hand subtly grazing his thigh. fuck, if he didn’t have a boner before he definitely had one now.

he slightly shifted you by your waist with his big, lanky hands, praying to god that you didn’t feel his boner. you did.

your eyes widened as you realized that he was getting turned on by whatever you’d been doing. yuta had never been inappropriate with you or even any other girl! your relationship was strictly platonic.. well until now. you wanted him to make up for lost time, for the years he’d been missing from your life. you were on a mission to make him snap.

“mmm, yuta, stop moving me..” you whined, “i was comfortable in my other spot”. you bounced back, landing right on his bulge as he bit back a whine. “yu, what’s in your pocket? i feel it against my butt..! you should probably take it out before i squish it or something”, you tease , rubbing your ass so his cock would slide riiight in between your asscheeks.

when yuta looked down at the sight, he nearly came in his pants. his raging boner was in between your asscheeks which were held in the confines of your sweatpants, his hands gripping at your waist as you slightly rubbed against him. the blanket was covering you from the rest of the room, albeit empty, but it felt like he was a high schooler in their house trying to hide being fucking freaky from their family.

“g-gummy bear, please-“ he was cut off by your hands moving up to cup your tits through your top, yuta almost, almost, gave them a squeeze but he held it in. you had no idea how much of a pervert he had become from seeing you again, pent up from years of no release and being a damn virgin his whole life.

“what, yu? don’t wanna cuddle with your best friend?” you inquire, feigning innocent. he then felt your nipples pebbling up underneath his palm. he hadn’t noticed earlier since it’d been slightly warm but fuck, you weren’t wearing a bra. he threw his head back, feeling like he was a fucking lion clawing inside an enclosure. and you were damn determined to let him out.

you grabbed his hand again, manipulating the pads of his fingers to rub against your nipples through your painfully thin shirt. “never fucked anyone while you were away, yu?”, you whispered as you felt him shake his head behind you.

“thought so. i mean, you can have all the practice you want with me.. right?”. before you could continue he yanked you up, manhandling you so you were pinned down on the couch.

“stop being a tease, gummy bear.. y’know i missed you so much, shit.. and you have the gall to grind on my boner? knowing i’m a damn virgin?” he huffed, his face inches from yours, “please, please, gummy bear. tell me you want this. tell me. if we do this we’ll never be just friends again. please, baby”, he whined.

you grabbed his face with both hands, crashing your lips into his. it felt like a century of pent up feelings had come breaking out like water from a dam. he humped you as if he was a fucking dog, moaning into the kiss. you flip over again, going on top of him as he admired how fucking sexy you looked, hair disheveled, lips slightly swollen, and your lip combo smudged. you scoot down slightly to tug against his pants, eyes widening as his erect, throbbing, cock springing out and slapping against his stomach with a slight pap.

you looked so damn hot and hungry, almost happily touching his cock, but before you could lean down to put your mouth on it, he grabbed your wrist.

“no, no, gummy bear, please, i want it first in your pussy, baby, please”. he sounded so good begging you took off your sweatpants faster than fucking barry allen. he threw his head back with a groan at the sight of your pussy, if he could, he would jump for joy right now but he was too focused on you.

“next time, you’re sitting on my fucking face, gummy bear”, he groaned. next time. you rubbed your pussy on his cock which laid flat against his stomach, his tip leaking precum on his toned abs.

“please, baby, don’t tease me. put it in..” he whined, his hand traveling down to rub at your clit and the other gripping your hip. with a small smile, you lean back, lining up his tip to your entrance, moaning as it caught onto your clit as you rubbed his cock over your hole.

“stop- fuckin teasing.” he grunted as his hips thrusted up, his cock entering your soaking wet pussy as you yelped. he was big. you had some experience with guys in college but no one ever could even reach his caliber of dick. you dropped down completely on his dick, feeling his balls against your ass and his public hair tickling your clit. you didn’t even care that he wasn’t trimmed and neither did he. fuck, he wouldn’t even care if you had a whole forest, i mean, he’s a sorcerer, he’s supposed to explore territory that’s unseen, right?

“fuck yes, yu! you’re so fucking big!” you yelp, beginning to move as you began to grind on his cock. slightly bouncing on it. yutas’s eyes trailed from your fucked out face to your pert tits, allll the way down to your pussy that had enveloped his dick. you almost wished you put some furniture out because all you could hear was the echos of your moans, yuta’s heaving breathing and whining, the squeaking of the couch, and the wet squelch of your pussy. you were definitely getting a noise complaint filed against you.

he thrusted up again and you let out an obscene whine, squeezing his dick which made him let out a loud, strangled moan. you peered down, noticing that he was starting to fucking cry from how good your pussy was.

“y-yu.. are you- ohh fuck, okay?” you bring your hand down to wipe his tears, peppering kisses on his face.

“s-such a good fucking- f.. FUCK.. pussy..” he groaned out, not even believing that his level of pleasure was possible. you were taken aback by his dirty words, but sighed in relief before he started to continuously thrust up, hitting your cervix over and over again.

yuta’s eyes wandered back to your tits, noticing that they’d began to slip out of your skimpy top. with one hard thrust, he almost came on the spot when they bounced out of their confines, nipples erect as your tits jiggled perfectly.

“g-gummy bear you’re so.. shit- perfect!” he shoved his face in between your tits as you let out a strangled moan from the extra pleasure. “perfect fucking tits. made just for me. fuck, thank you for waiting for me.. for not dating some fucking loser… all for me, yeah? right, gummy?” he lost himself in between your boobs.

“all for you, yuta baby, all for you!”.

“fuck- FUCK- gummy bear, cum with me, i can feel your pussy clenching, please baby, please cum with me”

he gave your tit one more sick before the coil in your stomach snapped, making you squirt for the first time in your life.

“fuck yes, gummy bear, squirt all over me, make a mess, baby yes, where do you want me?”

“i-inside please..” you were nearly crying as well from the overstimulation.

“don’t say that baby- fuck- you drive me crazy, gummy bear, i’m gonna cum in you, fuck yeah,” he groaned before thrusting up harshly one last time, his thrusts calming to slow, shallow humping. he pulled out, admiring how well your pussy took him as you whimpered from the new empty feeling. you huffed, thinking he was satisfied.

“you didn’t think i was done, right, gummy bear?”, he smiled, his almost eerie eyes peering up at you as he pulled you up, making you plop right on top of his face.

“‘gotta keep my promise. my best friend was waiting for me at home all these years, after all”

[contact-guy]

God I just love that in The Dying Detective you made it so Sherlock is struggling to convince Watson he's sick. Watson knows him so well at this point. It huuuurrtttsssss (positive)

THANK YOUUU I wanna talk about this because it ties into why I love comics so much, and why I love adapting prose into comics. It's a pretty well known idea that part of the job as a cartoonist is to be the 'actor' for your characters - to try and inhabit their heads, figure out their body language, make their expressions with your own face as you're drawing them, etc.

This brings a certain level of intuition into comic drawing that I find really magical. Sometimes I'll have something written (for original work) or there will be something in the text (for adapted work) but when it comes time to draw it, I just...can't get the character to do it. None of my drawings make sense or feel authentic. It feels like they've turned from 'real' people into flat paper dolls. I've been doing this long enough that I've learned when that happens, it means something in the text needs to change.

For Dying Detective, I started sketching it as a direct translation of the book, but something weird happened as I went:

I found I kept cropping out Watson's face. Maybe it was just that I'd drawn sad Watson too much recently and I was tired of it. But I couldn't figure out how to draw him reacting to Holmes being sick with genuine distress, the way he does in the book - not within the altered narrative I'm telling with the Sketchbook. They've known each other too long, they're in too tense of a place in their relationship, and Watson is too familiar with Holmes's tendency to make a scene.

So to experiment, I drew him looking skeptical instead.

And THAT was fun and easy, which meant it was the right direction to go. It also made the scene go from feeling like a single, sustained note of distress, to an unspoken power struggle, where the characters end in a different place from when they begin. For this specific adaptation, it was a good change to make - and it was something I only discovered through the art. All this to say that I love comics always and forever!!!

[yawnderu]

hi, i've only discovered your writing recently but i can't even explain how much i love it 😭 it's like that one anon who i think said that it feels very real, like you're getting 4k ultra hd 8d view of the scene lol 🩷

i really like your bimbo reader posts but i also sort of enjoy seeing them from this point of view that's like.... "this is not his gfs """"constant"""" style but he just lets her be in this kind of persona sometimes because it's relaxing to let him do all the work and thinking for her from time to time".

i hope this makes sense 😭 thank you for writing something that's this cute and wholesome i just love it

Thank you so much sweetheart, this is really lovely!! 😭😭😭<3

Yeah!! I totally get where you're coming from!! She's not exactly dumb, it's actually quite the opposite. I'd like to hc her as a girl who managed to get into a very good university and is studying astrophysics simply because she liked watching stars as a child. She's not dumb— just a girl who grew up extremely sheltered and hasn't seen the world through the eyes of someone who has had a difficult life, like Simon.

There's certain naivety that while it can be dangerous, she's been learning more and more about with Simon's help about stranger danger and trusting her instinct, but the girl is always surrounded by people who enjoy seeing her thrive and always teach her the things that her parents didn't.

I'd say in general she has a very good life, and now paired with Simon, someone whose entire soul wants to see her thrive?? She gets to turn off her brain and simply let him take control— he sometimes picks her clothes for her, dressing her up to the best of his capacity even when he's not a fashion guy.

This man has studied all her Instagram pictures because she's mesmerizing and he loves her that much, yet it also gives him the chance to more or less know what combinations she likes to wear. He still remembers the time she looked at him like he grew a second head for trying to make her wear dots and lines— but he never made that same mistake again.

They work surprisingly well together despite basically being on complete opposite sides of a spectrum, and at the end of the day, they work this well because they're both equally in love with the other.

Simon is level-headed and that gives her the chance to simply be herself without worrying about anything, he gives her a sense of security that she's never gotten with anyone else, while bimbo!reader gives Simon the love and affection he never even dared to think about. The main thing is that she looks and treats him like he's worth something how good of a soldier he is. Hell, she doesn't even know he's a soldier, she simply found the most brooding and intimidating guy and fell in love with him before she even knew it.

They both spoil each other a lot. Simon buys her things, treats her with patience and love, and generally treats her like the princess that she is, while she takes care of Simon like no other. She does face masks with him, gives him massages, does his manicure (trimming and cleaning his nails, putting lotion on his calloused hands), and is overall as patient as they come.

They're a pretty wholesome pair and quite honestly I enjoy writing about them a lot, the love they have for each other is fully pure and it makes me happy. :')

Sorry for going off here HJBEFJBHKFEHBKJEFHBJK I wrote too much but God, I love this pair SO fucking much

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[saltnsugarbear]

Lip with “Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” “Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” “…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.” 

so like on the low i ate this up

word count: 1.0k

content warnings: KAREN SLANDER IM SO SORRY (I don't like her but I hate slut shaming more) they don't enthusiastically consent but they're both into it I'm sorry 😔, so ig dubcon, oral (m!receiving) (don't ask for this ever again), Lip is kind of mean (the voices olive got to me on that one)

side note: don't expect any bj fics again cause I hate the idea of giving men head SORRY also I like triggered my own life apocalypse (got sick at work, power went out, etc)

come celebrate!

One of Lip's favorite things about you is your competitive nature. Not that he'd ever say that out loud, but it's one of the things that endeared him to you.

It made him like pushing your buttons even more.

So complaining while you actually work on your group project is the perfect way to annoy you today. However you've stopped paying him any mind, about three minutes into his griping. So he tries a new approach.

Bringing up his most recent conquests. So obviously that means he feels the need to mention Karen.

And the fact that instead of being tutored, she gave Lip head instead. The story makes you roll your eyes, shaking your head when he comments that it's probably the best blowjob he's ever gotten.

"It could not have been that good.." You scoff, trying to focus on finishing the sentence you're writing. "Actually, I take that back. Given how big of a slut she is, she's probably had plenty of practice."

"Oh fuck you-" Lip starts.

"Am I wrong?" You challenge him quickly, glaring up from your page.

"You're just pissed off you're not getting any." He sneers. You roll your eyes, you're not having this conversation with him.

Lip takes your silence as agreement, snickering lightly. "No wonder you're so uptight, you're not getting laid."

You have to bite your tongue to keep from retorting. He's fucking insufferable.

"Everything makes so much more sense now. Because I kept asking myself, y'know, why you're such a bitch. But it makes sense now, you're not getting away so you need to take your frustrations out another way."

"You're such a fucking asshole, Gallagher. You don't know shit about who I'm fucking." You snap at him, putting your pen down none too gently.

"Right, like anyone would be able to fuck you. Probably too fucking tight up there, can't even get a finger in you." Lip's look is gloating, like he's won some verbal sparring match.

You don't know why you're moving. Pushing out of your chair and tugging Lip's back. Lip sputters at the abruptness of your yanking, arms flying out for balance. Once there's enough space for you, you quickly step in between his legs before dropping down to your knees.

You're a little surprised at the small tent in Lip's slacks already, scoffing after you piece it together. "You get off on the sound of your own voice?"

"What? No. What are you-" You cut Lip's questioning off quickly, pushing yourself up to rest on your toes so you can easily rest your arm on his thigh as you press your palm against his half hard dick. Lip's words are muddled as you bully him through the fabric, fighting himself for some composure.

With one last squeeze, you bring both of your hands to his hips, pulling him forward until he's sitting at the very edge. You don't miss how he inhales sharply at your rough handling.

Once he's positioned better, you sit flat on your feet before looking up at him through your lashes and leaning forward, licking at his erection through his slacks. Lip groans as you continue to mouth at his cock, head falling back as you suck softly around the fabric.

Once you're satisfied with the wet patch you've made in his pants, you bring your hands to unbutton and unzip them before tugging them down slightly. Lip helps you out by lifting his hips up, letting drag them down past his knees. Your saliva bled through his pants, dampening his boxers where you had been teasing him.

Taking your time, you go back to mouthing at his erection. You can hear him shifting above you, glancing up to see him bring his hands around. Lip's hands are pushy as they hold the back of your head.

"Uh-uh.." You pull away from his bulge, catching his wrists before leaning forward and tucking them behind his back. "Those stay there."

"Fuck..." Lip mutters.

"Lift." You tap his hips as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. Lip is a quick listener, lifting his hips up so you can tug his boxers down to his pants. He breathes out heavily when his cock springs free, hitting his stomach.

You're quick to take him in your mouth, sliding your tongue along the underneath of his length. There's a sense of pride as Lip struggles to form any words, the only things leaving his mouth a mix of whines and groans.

"Fuck, wait- shit-" Lip grunts as you sink back down to the base, glancing up at him with your nose brushing against his happy trail. "Mm- fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?"

You hum around his length, feeling how he twitches in your mouth before pulling all the way off.

"Well, the noises you're making are a pretty good indication of how you like it." You grin up at him, bringing your hand to wrap around the base of his cock.

"...God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it's turning me on even more." Lip's eyes are lidded as he looks down at you, watching as you slowly jerk him off. You roll your eyes at him, leaning back towards his cock.

"I liked you better when you could barely speak," you tell him before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around the head of him.

"Fuu- ughh.." Lip grunts as you suckle at his head. His hips buck up into your mouth, pushing himself farther in. You hum sharply, taking your hands away from his base and pushing back against his hips. Lip breathes heavily as you keep his hips in place, flicking your tongue over the slit before pressing gently at the underside of his head.

"Wait-" Lip chokes out, hips bucking up again. "Shit, shit- fuck-"

Lip's release is thick on your tongue and you're quick to open your mouth, letting him watch as his cum coats your tongue. Doing such makes Lip swear, another rope covering your tongue. You pull away from him, sticking your tongue out for him to see all of his release before making a show of swallowing it.

"Still think she gave you the best blowjob of your life?"

[suiana]

yo i saw ur rb && feel free to write about the renting concept!!! if u do pls tag me i’d love to see <33 😋

😻😻 rhanks genie

(yandere! rental boyfriend x gn! reader) (shitpost kinda) (concept based on this post)

you know, it's not like you were ugly, dumb or poor. in fact, you consider yourself rather attractive, smart and quite rich. but it seems that no one has noticed that which... might've been why you were single for a very long period of time.

very meaning from when you were born up until recently.

you had always desired for a relationship. wanting to experience the joys of love, the romance, the contentment you get whenever you're with that special someone.

unfortunately you never got to experience that. never. even after putting down your dignity and renting a boyfriend.

you had rented a rather pretty looking guy from this... dodgy website called 'rent-a-darling'? was that the name? it probably is. what a weird website it's called. anyways, it was basically a rental boyfriend/girlfriend website and you had absolutely struck gold with it.

perfect face, perfect body, incredibly intelligent... he was basically a work of art. and his personality wasn't half that bad either! he cracked jokes and they were entertaining enough! he made you laugh, feel better about your miserable love life...

but he just wasn't it.

so you decided to end contact with him. there was no point in continuing that rental service anyways. it's not like he'd like you back even if you fell for him.

except that was exactly what happened?? a few days after you officially ended your contact with your absolute god of a rental boyfriend, he showed up at your doorstep, panting as a lovesick look paints his beautiful features.

you were concerned to say the least. after all, you had never seen him act in such a way before. which was why you allowed him in... which led you to your current situation which was far from ideal.

"could you let me go please? my arms are sore..."

"you know, you're really cute like this."

you merely sigh in response, looking away as you grow awkward under his obsessed gaze. this has been the fifth day since he tied you up, only allowing you to leave the bed for meals and the toilet.

and in those five days he's openly admitted to be in love with you.

while it was nice and endearing to hear such words, you only wish it was from someone you actually loved back. and maybe not as crazy as this guy was.

"can you please let me go? do you want money or something? i can give it to you-"

"what i want is your love, and that cannot be bought with money."

he interjects promptly, still smiling at you with his pearly white teeth which were honestly starting to creep you out. why were they so white? why was he so objectively perfect? and why was he madly obsessed with you?

"hey can i just ask something? why are you so obsessed? like just why."

he pauses for a second, hummung contently as he shuts his eyes for a bit.

"I'm not sure why,"

his eyes open again and he continues his sentence. this time, you can't help but feel an impending sense of dread in your gut when he speaks.

"i guess i just really adore you."

he then giggles oddly, tugging at your bedsheets as his face nears yours.

"you complete me, my love."

you grimace as his face nears yours. ugh, what you wanted was that lovey dovey shit you saw on television. not whatever this was. kidnapping and constant moans of how your captor loves you.

but oh well, it is a relationship. just not the one you wanted. maybe you could learn to deal with it-

"darling! if you tell me how much you love me, block everyone else you know, leave your job, and promise to run away with me, I'll untie you! how about it?"

...yeah, you're not dealing with this. perhaps you're just not meant for love.

[annwrites]

— aemond targaryen quotes ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖ | sons & daughters

❝You prefer to watch then, niece? Come down, and I will give you a private show of your very own, if you instead join me.❞

❝What is it you pray for, then, I wonder? An advantageous marriage, perhaps. One for love, I’m sure. You always did have your head in the clouds as a child.❞

❝I recently learned yours never hatched, even after taking it such a long way. I could tell you why that might be, but I fear it may offend you. So, let me instead make you an offer.❞ (...) ❝Come join me on mine own. She is the largest in all the world. Just consider what that might imply about her rider.❞

❝At least you have not forsaken your mother tongue,❞ he’d said, coming closer yet again. ❝Mine own is quite adept at it, among other things.❞

❝Then perhaps we steal away in the dark of night, married in secret by a septon. Like something out of a fairytale book, which I know you loved so dearly at one time. Our marriage consummated upon a bed of hay, in a barn where our secrets lay hidden.❞

❝Let us flee across the Narrow Sea, then, for there is nothing left for me here now. Not with you having gone and hidden yourself away from me on that desolate island. Let us finally be free of our gilded cages, beloved niece. Together.❞

❝I see you have not forgotten our games as children we so often enjoyed together in those most private moments. Hm. How well we got to know one another then.❞

❝If I do, you will thus be ruined for all, wholly belonging to me at last.❞

❝Stay. I’ve enough of you walking away from me.❞

❝Have you much thought about it? What we did in the Godswood—alone—with just ourselves and our sweet sin between us? I know I have. Would you like to know what I did about it? Mayhaps you did as well.❞

❝Come, then, let us find a dark corner so I might explore and discover the answer for myself. So I might see in what all ways you have grown into a woman, besides just your disposition.❞

❝Fuck them. Let them watch.❞

❝You know the promise we once made: to never lie to one another. You believe me to have forgotten it? I lost my eye, not my senses, dear niece.❞

❝You belong with me. You are of my blood and I yours.❞

❝I will return it to you when you return to me. Not a moment sooner.❞

❝To my most beloved niece: how good it is to have you returned to me once again. For I have missed you so very dearly. I eagerly await our next reunion. I much hope it is…quite soon.❞

❝We should be together. We're supposed to be.❞

❝Tell me then, boy, if your whore mother did not send you prepared to wield a sword in her name, why did she not send my lovely niece then instead? I do so long to see her.❞

❝She is there, in that northern wasteland they dare call a kingdom?❞ He sneers. ❝She should be instead with me. She is my blood. Mine!❞

❝Y/N belongs to me.❞ (...) ❝Nothing will change that. Including some dull, passionless northern lord. What is he compared to her own uncle? A prince?❞

❝You see,❞ he cocks his head to the side. ❝She was meant to be my betrothed. She was created for me to have. I would not expect you to understand, but it is mine own blood which I am meant to wed.❞

❝Some unwashed northern fucking lord is not suitable for her needs! I am!❞

❝Do you want to know, then, mother? The things we did with only the Gods to bear witness?❞

❝I’m going to get my bride back!❞

❝My niece belongs to me! She belongs with me! Not fucking there! Mine! Mine! She is mine!❞

❝My fucking property! She was born for me! Created to be given to me to have and take to wife!❞

❝I'll burn the fucking North! I'll burn the whole God's-damned Realm if that's what it takes! I'll have Maester Orwyle cut that thing out of her, and fill her instead with my seed! A dragon, not a fucking dog! I'll feed it to Vhagar!❞

❝It is alright, my beloved niece. We're together now. None shall part us ever again, or I will kill them. I'll kill them all. I swear it.❞

❝You will remain always by my side. Until your last breath. You will not—fuck—so much as look at another man. You will remain in our chambers. Safe and sound. Always waiting for me.❞

❝You are perfect. Every single part of you was made for me to love. And I do, and I will, and I shall.❞

❝My beloved niece,❞ he drawls against the shell of your ear. ❝One lifetime of having you will not be near enough.❞

❝You are meant to be with a dragon. Not a wolf,❞ he spits.

❝I am giving you one last chance, beloved niece,❞ he says acidically. ❝Give up this bit of ridiculous pretend before you force my hand.❞

[xiaosonlybeloved]

First Words~ Gojo Satoru

featuring:- Gojo Satoru, fem!reader, Megumi, Tsumiki, [d/n] is your daughter's name tags:- fluff, reader has a child with Gojo, Megumi and Tsumiki are still kids and live with them, reader is called mama a/n:- oh my god people writing this killed me how do yall write fluff T.T the next fic i write is gonna be hardcore angst as compensation dudhsufi, also my first time writing fluff and jjk hope u like it :)

wc:- 1.1k

masterlists

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but have you seen a white-haired man with a small kid anywhere?” You frantically asked the nearest shop employee. You had turned your back on your husband for just a few minutes, which had apparently been enough for him to disappear somewhere into the large supermarket, with your child. Thank the gods atleast Megumi and Tsumiki had the good sense to not follow him. Unfortunately, neither of them had caught Satoru disappearing. 

You tightly held Megumi’s hand to ensure that you two wouldn’t be separated, keeping your eyes peeled for the albino male. Tsumiki, being a little older than him, had decided to independently search for Satoru, both of you agreeing to return to the billing counter once you’d found him. “I swear, when I find him, he’s gonna have it from me.” You muttered under your breath as you hurried with Megumi through the endless rows in the supermarket. 

And voila, where do you finally find him? In one of the multiple rows of the sweets and deserts section, one hand carefully balancing your child and keeping her from grabbing at the chocolates, while he stocked the cart with packets of chocolates, in addition to the pile of donut packets and sweets and what not. You narrow your eyes as you leave Megumi’s hand and angrily stomp towards him, causing him to freeze as if he’s been caught red-handed -which he had been. He hadn’t even finished the humongous stock at home, and he was buying more! At this rate, he deserved to develop diabetes with his crazy sweet tooth.

Satoru nervously grins at you as you narrow your eyes at him. “Oh, darling, there you are-” “Cut the crap, Gojo Satoru. You had me searching for over 15 minutes, do you know that? You weren’t even answering your phone, the sheer audacity. We are outside right now, so I won’t make a scene, but you damn better be prepared when we get home.” You shift your attention from your husband to your daughter, whose eyes had lit up on seeing you and was grabbing at you with her chubby fingers, almost falling out of Satoru’s arms. You let out a sigh of relief as you take her into your arms, giving her a kiss on her forehead, which made her giggle and laugh as she started babbling, attempting to say ‘Mama’. It was always so adorable to see her say gibberish- she was starting to speak these days, much to your and Satoru’s elation. From beside you, Megumi gently held her hand, and she closed her fist tightly around his finger. You gently bend down a bit so that Megumi can squish [d/n]’s cheeks and she can grab his spiky hair with her other hand as both you and Satoru chuckled. 

“Gu.. Gu..Mi… Gumi!” Your daughter suddenly exclaims after many attempts, using the nickname you two had given Megumi. All three of you freeze, amidst [d/n]’s babbling of “Gumi! Gumi!” Satoru is the first one to break out laughing as he throws an arm around Megumi, saying with a grin, “Well, would ya look at that? Her first word isn’t Mama or Papa, its you! Man, I’m a bit jealous, but oh well.” Megumi looks stunned as she sticks out her tongue at him, something she recently learned from Satoru. But slowly, a soft smile spreads across his face as he hesitantly reaches his arms out, asking you if he could hold her. You readily give him his little sister as she starts laughing once again, grabbing two fistfuls of his hair. He doesn’t seem affected as he gently plays with her a bit.

Just then, Tsumiki comes running in. “I see you found him!” She exclaims between pants. “What did I miss?” Satoru happily tells her what happened as [d/n] again shifts her attention from Megumi to you, reaching out for you again. He quickly hands her over to you, satisfied, and she snuggles into your shoulder, mumbling her second word- Mama, as you grin and play with her hair affectionately. Satoru excitedly hurries behind you to see his adorable little daughter’s face, but all she does is frown at him for ‘disturbing her time with her mom’. She turns her face away, burying it into your neck, when Satoru tries to get a reaction out of her by poking and pinching her cheeks. “Cmon, sweets, just say my name once? Just once?” He tried to prod at her, and she glared at him, or well… tried to- she just looked adorable as ever with a baby scowl. Tsumiki giggled at his relentless attempts, finally pulling him away from his daughter with a scolding of “Stop annoying her!” Then she walks up to you for her turn of holding [d/n], welcomingly holding her arms out for her. [d/n] stares at her for a bit, before agreeing, as if deciding that she wasnt likely to annoy her. All four of you ignore Satoru’s gasp of utter betrayal. 

“My own family doesn’t stand by me anymore.” He wept dramatically in the middle of the supermarket as the four of you grin and play with [d/n], who finally says her third word- ‘Miki’. (Store employees and other people give you weird looks but ignore you.) You’re surprised at how quickly she’s learning- probably something she inherited from her dad. Ironically, her dad’s name is the only name she hasn’t spoken yet. 

She quietens down after a while, causing the three of you to look at her in puzzlement. “I guess she’s tired by now.” You hummed as she started reaching out of Tsumiki’s arms again, but towards her dad. He immediately grabs the opportunity, quickly taking [d/n] into his arms. She rests her head on his shoulder, as if she was about to fall asleep, and you all look at your little bundle of joy with a soft smile.

Just before she starts snoring, she mumbles another word, the last one before she falls asleep- ‘Papa’. A warm grin spreads across your husband’s face, as he first looks at his daughter, then at his family- all of whom are smiling happily at him too. 

Luckily for him, the scolding you were supposed to give him at home slipped your mind amongst all the excitement in the supermarket. After all, you do love him and the rest of your family with all your heart, so you suppose you can forgive his childish antics this once. (And many more times in the future too.)

requests are open, and darn it i have no idea how to write fluff aaa. reblogs, tags and comments are very much appreciated , thanks for reading :)

[rei-ismyname]

Let's talk R-LDS

R-LDS or Resurrection-Linked Degenerative Sickness was alluded to in X-Men #4 and the Infinity Comics before being named in X-Men #7. We're told that Magneto has it and it's directly caused by Krakoan resurrection/The Five, kinda.

Here's Beast doing some alluding.

In the panels above, we learn that Hank McCoy is the only one working on the problem - the problem being Magneto's loss of his powers and his body breaking down rapidly - his very chromosomes unraveling. He seems quite sure that it could happen to 'any of us' though the lack of quarantine suggests it's not contagious.

The next bit of information we receive is from Magneto and Scott in conversation, reflecting on The Iron Night. They took down a wild sentinel that was attacking the town and Mags lost control over his powers immediately after, requiring Scott to knock him out for safety's sake. Scott is no scientist, and while Magneto is a genius polymath autodidact (with plenty of experience in genetics) it's not a character trait that's seen focus lately. Thus, I'm assuming they're discussing it as amateurs and as patient zero in Magneto's case.

Magneto confidently names the condition for the first time as well as using an acronym for it, suggesting it's confirmed to exist, he's had a positive diagnosis, and they're using the term enough to require shorthand. He even spells out the subtext for us - it was a hidden flaw in Krakoan resurrection. I'll come back to that notion. Scott says 'we don't know that for sure,' implying that R-LDS is just a theory or speculation, which Mags doesn't directly refute. Instead he lays out the worst case scenario. They can't both be right here, so what's the deal? Magneto's symptoms are obviously confirmed, but how did they get from there to here?

If Magneto is the first and only person affected by his condition, why are he and Beast so sure about its providence and everyone being in danger? How could they possibly link it to Krakoan resurrection? I'm no scientist but I do know that there's only so much you can conclude from a single data point. Magneto was indeed only resurrected by the Five once, but he died again after that on Arakko (X-Men Red #7). The body he's in came out of a portal from Overspace in Adam Brashear's underwater base (Resurrection of Magneto #3.) His body suffering a condition borne of something that happened to a different body doesn't make sense. Considering he's the only person to return to life that way AND the only one allegedly with R-LDS, that would be the place to start for Beast's sciencing.

There he is, good as new.

Word of God

In a recent AIPT interview, Tom Brevoort removed any ambiguity and just straight up confirmed it. With the caveat that his recent X-history knowledge seems pretty poor, he is the de jure ultimate authority on the matter. I don't agree with that, and not just because I don't respect him as a creator. This habit of on-panel ambiguity and editorialising in interviews is vexing.

It's especially vexing when he contradicts himself. He counterpoints his own information with some of what I just pointed out, but the fact that they've made a list of who was and wasn't resurrected suggests R-LDS is a plot point they're committed to. I have to wonder why he bothered giving a detailed answer to this question if it's 'yes,' then 'maybe', then 'it will definitely be a thing you'll see as we progress.' Saying all of that and then ending with 'we know very little so far' really makes me wonder what he's thinking. Tom Brevoort could have given his usual cagey answer about not wanting to spoil anything, but he didn't here. I'm saving most of my Brevoort-specific criticism for a separate piece, but this glib and irreverent tone is typical of his commentary - even managing a light jab at Jordan D White.

Frankly, I think it's a graceless and cynical development. There are so many character beats, mistakes, and conflicts to use from the First Krakoan Age that choosing to create R-LDS feels like a shot at the core of hopefulness and creativity that blew our socks off in 2019.

HoxPoX

House of X/Powers of X was hopeful and magical. After a decade plus of endless misery and genocides, dull stories and bizarre characterisation, for once mutants got a W. The ability to use mutants working together to right the horrendous wrongs they'd suffered was central to that - the power of community and cooperation. What they built wasn't perfect but The Five was something they got right.

What would possess someone to take the cornerstone of the greatest X-Men story of all time (don't @ me) and try to tear it down? Remember, when the dust settled we ended up in Moira X life 10E. In 10A, the original Krakoan experiment, the mutants won! They thrived and protected what was theirs against Dominions. It took a literal apex AI God existing outside of space and time directly opposing them to fail. Enigma, on the back foot, sent Omega Sentinel through time to start ORCHIS years early and ensure Krakoa's collapse. Am I to believe 'no, sorry. That was a dead end?'

Haven't we been here before?

We've had mutants suffer from the Legacy Virus and M-Pox already, and I might even be missing other examples of nebulous diseases that threatened to wipe out all mutants. Obviously it's the prerogative of the X-Office to use whatever plot points they want, but do we really have to do this again? There are plenty of ways to sideline Magneto as a combatant that don't require repackaging old storylines. We've even had Hank McCoy decades behind the curve desperately trying to catch up before - in All-New All-Different X-Men.

Small World

Defenders-era Hank McCoy might be the worst possible 616 scientist to tackle this problem. He's literally decades behind the science curve and doesn't have the experience in dealing with anything like this. He's not the same guy that worked on M-Pox or the Legacy Virus. He never set foot on Krakoa and has never met any of the Five. We don't know how much data was recorded or kept from The Five but Beast may not have access to it.

Why isn't he talking to Cecilia Reyes, Forge, Jean Grey, Reed Richards, Doctor Strange, Adam Brashear, Healer, Doctor Nemesis? Even doctor dickhead that extorted Storm has the ability to instantly diagnose anyone. It makes the world feel tiny, and when you're following an era of interconnectedness that's just so disappointing. Portraying him as supremely concerned about 'all of us being ticking time bombs' rings hollow if he's working on it solo. Hank McCoy has always had a sense of arrogance where his scientific ability is concerned but not to this degree. Look at the guy! He's hating the stress he's under.

Sins of Sinister and the White Hot Room

I have to wonder if the implications of linking Magneto's illness to The Five's resurrection have been fully considered. The Sins of Sinister timeline ran for a millennium with the Five resurrecting on an industrial scale. Rasputin IV would have noticed, or the Quiet Council. The mutants left behind in the White Hot Room in RotPox spent 15 years bringing back ALL the dead mutants. That's 16 million, minimum. 15 years is less than a thousand but it's still longer than the First Krakoan Age, several times over. Nobody noticed anything? Elixir, member of the Five and Omega biokinetic, with his unlimited mastery of DNA didn't notice anything? Destiny didn't see mutants falling apart? Sounds dubious as hell to me.

Towards the end of the era many humans were resurrected too. 5% of the Five's work was set aside for bringing back poor children etc through the Phoenix Foundation. Steve Rogers was resurrected into his current body on Judgement Day. I am extremely skeptical that this has been considered, and in Steve's case whether the X-Office can even use him.

Conclusion

Magneto's physical degradation has been swift. Here he is in Uncanny X-Men #700, implied to be at most 6 months before X-Men #1. I think I've demonstrated that the concept is nonsensical and to reiterate, I think it's a terrible narrative choice. If I'm being generous, it'll be interesting to see if they can explain R-LDS in a way that makes sense - if they can do something new and interesting with a tired concept. There's only been one issue since it was introduced, so perhaps I'm jumping the gun on breaking it down. Let's check back in 6 months.

What do you think of R-LDS? Do you think my reasoning is sound? As always, I'd love to hear what other fans think.

[thewebcomicsreview]

so what's your take on the recent "stonetoss is a much better comic than haus of decline because it has fewer words" over on twitter?

I really wanted to reply with a snarky dismissive one-liner. I had one written and everything, but then I wanted to make sure I understood the context and looked into this and ugh. Now I have to explain Twitter drama, this sucks.

Okay. Christ.

Haus of Decline makes this comic

The comic pops up again, and a person named Basil sees it and has a take that it has too many words.

As arguably the most prominent Webcomic Critic out there (which is the say, the only one still doing it), I kind of prefer the wordless version as well, but it's a matter of taste, more than an "objectively correct" take.

Basil then follows up on that take with a rather spicier one

It's worth noting here that Basil is saying Hans Kristian Graebener is "better" in the sense that they believe it's more effective propaganda, not in their own personal opinion of quality. And that's....arguable? For one, Haus of Decline isn't really trying to be left-wing propaganda, it's just shitposting, and for two I think Hans Kristian Graebener's effectiveness is way more complicated and sophisticated than just "brevity". And for three, saying Hans Kristian Graebener is "better comics" is really ill-advised, especially given some context I'll reveal shortly.

Haus sees this, calls Basil a moron, and it turns into a dumb stupid internet argument where both people look bad. And being, again, the top Webcomic Critic, I can confirm that sometimes when you call a webcomic bad the creator will get mad at you over it and that's just something you have to expect and live with and try not to beclown yourself in response to. I don't think Basil responded well here, and "just learn to take criticism" is a pretty common and loaded phrase in Webcomics Discourse. Still, whatever. A questionable take led to a short slap fight. That would be the end of it.

Except. The context.

Seven or eight months ago, Basil made this tweet.

Which is a far better tweet, and is now a meme used by liberals in intra-left twitter discord fights to dunk on the anti-voting Trump-curious twitter left. This tweet also came around the time Will Stancil was whipping a lot of normie liberals to push back against the anti-Biden narrative and obviously the election itself has led a notable shift in the vibes where you're seeing a lot more "Biden's not that bad" takes and even a bit of "Actually, Biden is good and I'm tired of pretending he's not" in leftist spaces. And if you follow my personal account you'll know that my vibes have also shifted in that direction a lot. Basil obviously didn't cause the shift, even Stancil didn't, it was the election, but it's their name on the top of the tweet that's used as an anti-anti-voting meme that the left still doesn't has a great response to, so a lot of leftists fucking hate Basil. The kind of passionate hatred you only feel when you're getting clowned on by Matthew fucking Yglesias. So there's a huge hate mob against Basil in the way that hate mobs tend to occur.

This all attracts the attention of Hans Kristian Graebener, who pops out a comic taking a shot at Haus over this. Which is, honestly, a much better example of why Hans Kristian Graebener is effective propaganda than the brevity thing, because god damn did that pour gasoline on the fire, and....well....tldr:

My take is that this whole fight is incredibly stupid, no one involved looks good, and the only one benefiting from it is the literal fucking Nazi.

[anonymous-dentist]

A Little (bit of) Love

My piece for @tryzine !!

-

It starts deceptively simple: Cellbit and Roier are taking a walk together through the Favela at sunset, fresh coffees in their hands from Starbobby. Cellbit can’t stop staring at Roier. Roier can’t stop staring at Cellbit. Bobby is watching from above, probably rolling his eyes at how goofy Roier looks when he’s in love. 

There are two creatures walking a step behind Cellbit and Roier that Cellbit is purposefully ignoring. 

Roier’s shoe comes untied next to a recently-added flowerbed. Cellbit offers to tie it, Roier laughs and teases Cellbit, Cellbit hands Roier his coffee to hold as he crouches and takes Roier’s shoelaces in his hands. 

Just barely visible through the gap between Roier’s legs, Pulgoier looks blankly up at the flowers. They’re taller than it is, but just barely. 

?, the disgusting little thing, follows Pulgoier’s gaze. And then, horrifyingly, and entirely of its own accord, it reaches up and snaps a flower off at the base of its stem. It holds the flower out to Pulgoier, head ducked just slightly, almost bashfully; Pulgoier doesn’t smile, because it can’t, because it isn’t real, but it does take the flower. 

Frozen in abject horror, Cellbit doesn’t react as Roier annoyedly taps at his head and asks what’s taking so long. Why is he just sitting there, what’s wrong? 

And then Roier turns around and sees his Mini-Me holding the flower close to its chest and pressing a plastic kiss to ?’s cheek, and Roier gasps. 

“Aww, look!” he coos, fingers tangling in Cellbit’s hair excitedly. “They’re in love!”

And Cellbit feels nothing. 

-

Cellbit’s son is gone. So is a significant part of Cellbit’s heart, and yet he knows that he is still capable of feeling love. He’s alive, after all: he isn’t a religious man, but he likes to think that everything with a heart can feel love. Dogs love their owners. Lions love their mates. Crocodiles love the hunt. Parrots love to show off. 

The Mini-Mes? Notably not alive. They aren’t real. They’re plastic and felt and yarn and whatever-the-fuck electronics the Federation shoved into their fake little bodies. Their nerves are made out of copper. Their veins are filled with self-recycling machine oil. Their hearts are combustion engines that run off of the items that their islander counterparts provide them daily. 

Cellbit knows this. He’s cut his Mini-Me apart so many times that ? knows not to squirm on the dissection table. Every time he’s sewn ? back together, he’s made ? hold the roll of string so it doesn't roll away. He’s made ? bleed oil to the point that he once caught ? drinking gasoline when Cellbit’s back was turned. 

The Mini-Mes don’t feel emotions. They can’t. They aren’t real. They’re creatures, if one could call an inhuman amalgamation of wires and eco-friendly microplastics a creature. It’s more apt to call them robots. 

Monsters. 

Cellbit knows that the MIni-Mes were created for war. He watched the video at that conference, he knows exactly what the little assholes were made for. Now that they’re stolen, their purpose has probably been shifted by the Federation from fighting to spying. 

They can’t feel love. This much, Cellbit knows. They were created for battle, and now they’re just biding their time. Waiting. 

The fact that ? seems to be in love with Pulgoier is an outlier that should not be considered. They’re both just mimicking their owners, that’s all. Which begs the question of exactly how adaptive the Mini-Mes are; they can change appearance at the drop of a hat, but behavior? They’ve been robotic up to this point, what changed? 

Cellbit asks this to ? as ? sits in its cage staring at the oil-stained wall. 

?, of course, doesn’t respond. That’s good, Cellbit doesn’t know what he’d do if the little bastard learned how to talk. 

But, at the lack of a response, Cellbit inexplicably feels a sense of… God, is this bravery he’s feeling coming off of ?? Is that it? An attitude? 

Cellbit’s eyes narrow, and he leans in closer to the cage with a sneer. 

“Whatever you’re doing, I’m onto it,” he growls. 

? just adjusts its goggles in response. Its hand briefly dips into the Fear Room’s light, exposing a thin black line drawn around ?’s left hand ring finger. A ring. 

Cellbit is so surprised that he doesn’t even feel angry for a good moment. 

But then ? looks up at him as if asking, “And what about it?”, and Cellbit finds himself standing and kicking the cage so hard that it falls over, sending ? toppling. 

A ring. A goddamn ring. 

A goddamn mockery, more like. It’s mocking him. The Federation is mocking him, he knows it. He fucking knows it. 

(But… why?)

-

Pulgoier starts holding ?’s hand. ? keeps picking things off of the side of the road to give to Pulgoier, and Cellbit hates it. 

Roier makes a little shoebox bed for them that he puts under his and Cellbit’s own bed. Instead of powering off for the day in a corner of the room, ? and Pulgoier go there at night, and Cellbit hates it. 

? and Pulgoier sit across from each other on the floor when their owners have their meals. Sometimes they pretend to eat, usually pretending to feed each other, and Cellbit hates it. 

Richarlyson would have killed them by now. Cellbit wishes he was here to do so, but. 

But. 

-

But it’s well past midnight, and Cellbit can’t sleep. This isn’t anything too unusual; he learned how to live off minimal sleep back during the War, for better or for worse. 

But Roier can’t sleep, which means that he’s somewhere in the castle, which means that Cellbit is somewhere in the castle because there’s no way in Hell he’s letting his depressed and sleep-deprived husband wander around mourning. 

Tonight’s ‘somewhere’ is the garden, and Cellbit has Roier in his arms as they sway back and forth to the music playing softly on Roier’s communicator. (The Federation is shitty for so many reasons, but at least it’s providing the island with Spotify Premium free-of-charge.)

The song is unimportant. So are the two little freaks of nature watching from beneath a rosebush. So are the Federation’s hidden cameras, and Bad somewhere downstairs trying to carry Cellbit’s dining table out the door, and the itching bloodlust in the back of Cellbit’s brain. 

What is important is Roier, and so Cellbit focuses all his attention on him. 

He’s tired, clearly so: his hair is more of a mess than usual, his clothes are rumpled and wrinkled, his shoes are untied, his bandana is lost somewhere in the bedroom, his lips are chapped, and the circles under his eyes are dark enough to rival Cellbit’s. 

Cellbit doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more beautiful man in his life. 

He says as much, words ghosting across Roier’s pale lips. 

Roier smiles weakly, and he murmurs a quiet, “No, you.”

The song changes to something a bit quicker. They both ignore the change in tempo and decide to follow each other’s, instead. 

Cellbit’s arms tighten around Roier. He pulls him closer, nose burying itself in the side of Roier’s neck and breathing in his scent and internalizing it, filing it away in the little cabinet in his brain labeled ‘Roier’.

“You stink,” he grumbles. 

“Yeah, because you’re all over me,” Roier responds. He lightly pinches Cellbit’s side. “I know what we’re doing when we get back inside.”

Cellbit whines, sagging in Roier’s arms. He loves his husband, but he does not love showering with him; Roier takes so long under the water that it’s running cold by the time it’s Cellbit’s turn, and his shampoo smells so strongly that it makes Cellbit have an asthma attack. 

Cellbit doesn’t even have asthma!

What Cellbit does have is an unfortunately-acute sense of hearing. It’s a blessing at times, and it’s a curse. 

His eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he hears the absolute faintest of sounds: the crunching of grass beneath clumsy feet, and the overworking of machinery as it tries to figure out how to laugh.

At the same time, Roier gasps, “Mira, mira!”

But Cellbit doesn’t look. Why should he? He’s having a good time. He doesn’t need some… some… some things ruining it. 

“Ay,” Roier insists, poking Cellbit between his ribs once. “Gatinho, mira.” 

Another poke. “Mira.” 

Another poke. “Cellbit.” 

(Poke.) “Cellbo.”

Cellbit’s eyes squeeze shut. He presses a kiss to the crook of Roier’s neck to try and appease him, but Roier just pokes him again. With determination. 

“Stop ignoring me!” he huffs. “Unless… you hate me? You want a divorce?”

At that, Cellbit’s head snaps up in a panic. 

“Não!” he shouts. Why would Roier ever…

Lips twitching into a semblance of a smile, Roier grabs Cellbit’s face with one hand- squeezing his cheeks together and making him feel a bit like a fish- and turns it to the side. 

…right. If there’s one thing Roier is, it’s a fucking asshole. (And a handsome one at that.)

Cellbit’s shoulders sag in relief, but said relief quickly melts back into annoyance as he’s forced to look at the Mini-Mes and their… well. It isn’t dancing, that’s for certain. 

Pulgoier has taken the lead, just like Roier has. It’s holding ?’s little hands and rocking from side-to-side: left, right. Left, right. Left, right. It doesn’t move from its spot other than a small amount of shuffling as it tries pulling at ?’s hands in an attempt to get it to actually move. 

? is still. It’s staring directly into Pulgoier’s beady little eyes, absolutely frozen. If it could blush, Cellbit is sure that it would be doing so. 

Cellbit inadvertently copies it, stiffening against Roier’s body and stopping any and all movements. He doesn’t mean to- he wants to keep dancing, to keep ignoring the Mini-Mes and their bastardized attempt at “romance”, but… 

“Look,” Roier quietly says, sounding almost awed. 

He lets go of Cellbit’s face so he can press his cheek against Cellbit’s. 

Cellbit feels Roier’s jaw work against his as he concludes, “It’s us.”

Because… it is. It is, somehow, in such a fundamental way that Cellbit can’t really identify it as anything but Cellbit-And-Roier. 

“Oh,” says Cellbit, voice hardly above a whisper. 

He watches as Pulgoier tugs on ?’s arms, and as ?’s legs start to shake under it. 

Cellbit doesn’t actually remember a lot of his wedding reception; between the explosions and the alcohol, it’s all just a lot of blurry faces and the feeling of Roier-Roier-Roier-Roier-Roier. 

What he does remember is being ushered into the center of the dance floor along with Roier and freezing. The world faded from around him, and all he could think about was Roier’s smile as he took Cellbit into his arms; Roier’s warm hands on his body; Roier’s alcohol-laced breath across his face. His body was a stranger. 

He remembers thinking, ‘Shit. I don’t know how to dance.’  Because he didn’t, and he still doesn’t, because he never had a chance to learn how. It just never came up in his life, and then, suddenly, he was supposed to dance. At his wedding. In front of the entire island. And everyone he knew.

And he remembers the way Roier’s face softened as he picked up on Cellbit’s anxiety. His hands slid from Cellbit’s back, up to his shoulders, down the lengths of his arms, and to his hands. He tangled their fingers together, took a step back, and winked. 

Pulgoier physically can’t wink, but it otherwise does exactly what Roier did all those months ago: it takes a step back, and it just starts spinning. 

? can’t shout like Cellbit did back then, but it otherwise does what he did all those months ago: it gets pulled along, forced to spin along with its partner, stumbling over its own feet and flailing about like a doll caught in the wind. 

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Cellbit mutters. 

“I can,” Roier replies. “He’s your Mini-Me, of course he can’t dance for shit.”

He yelps out a laugh as Cellbit indignantly steps on his foot. 

Roier’s right, though; Cellbit can’t dance for shit. And neither can ?, being Cellbit’s shitty little clone. 

The night of the wedding, it took Cellbit a good solid minute to get his feet back under him. He felt himself smiling, and, maybe it was the wine in his system, but he found himself tugging Roier in a spin in the opposite direction. He was dizzy as Hell, but it made Roier laugh when he did it, so he just… kept doing it. Eventually, the spin led into a proper attempt at a slow dance that failed so miserably that the two of them gave up and jumped onto the stage for another round of karaoke.

Tonight, ? picks up on things a bit quicker than Cellbit had. It stabilizes, nods to itself, and starts pulling Pulgoier into its own spin. Almost immediately, they’re attempting a proper waltz, and Cellbit… 

Cellbit doesn’t get it. 

At first, Cellbit wasn’t sure what the end goal of the Mini-Mes was. Then, he realized that they’re little soldiers. Robotic supersoldiers capable of self-multiplication and growth, literal war machines. 

But then… why do they look like the islanders? Why does Pulgoier have the same dark circles as Roier? Why does ? have the same scar across its chest that Cellbit does? What’s the point? The Federation doesn’t do anything without a purpose, so why do the Mini-Mes have to look like their owners if they’re meant to grow up and kill them? 

Why can they dance? 

“What’s the point?” he murmurs. Roier hums in acknowledgement, and Cellbit takes that as a sign to continue: “Of copying us?”

“Because we’re sexy,” Roier responds. 

Cellbit rolls his eyes. “True. But, think about it, what purpose does any of…” (He waves his hand in the MIni-Mes’ general direction.) “...this serve?”

“I don’t know, but… look at them.”

Cellbit looks. He doesn’t understand. Something uncomfortable rises in his throat. 

? twirls Pulgoier, leading it into a dip. Pulgoier raises its head and presses its painted mouth against ?’s. 

Chest clenching, Cellbit tries to tear his eyes away, but he just… can’t. He can’t. Not when they’re right there, not when they’re-

“You think they’re learning from us, right?” Roier asks. “So… maybe they aren’t learning how to kill us. Maybe they’re learning to be us.”

Cellbit gives him a flat look. “Isn’t that just as bad?”

Roier shrugs, still watching the little monsters. 

“Maybe,” he replies. “I’m not a scientist. But… isn’t it kinda crazy that we taught robots how to love?”

But robots can’t love. They can’t. But. 

Roier’s arms tighten around Cellbit’s body. His smile is just as forced as it has been since the eggs all vanished, but his eyes are surprisingly soft as he watches the Mini-Mes tumble into the grass from the force of their silent, impossible laughter. 

“They’re just copying us,” Cellbit weakly says. “It isn’t actually real.”

“Maybe,” Roier hums. One hand travels up to cup the back of Cellbit’s head, gently pulling it against his chest. Cellbit listens to Roier’s heartbeat and wills his own heart to match its pace. 

“Or,” he continues, “maybe it is. We found our reasons. Maybe they found theirs.”

They watch the Mini-Mes, and the Mini-Mes don’t notice. 

The song changes, and Roier starts leading Cellbit into another dance. 

Cellbit’s eyes slip shut, and he lets himself get swept away by Roier’s movements. 

(Bagi would call Cellbit a monster, but Cellbit found love in the end. So maybe, just maybe, ? could have done the same.)

[atheneum-of-you]

I've talked a lot about priest/ priestesshood on my blog recently as well as my journey as a priestess in training for Lord Hermes. (I promise I'll post other stuff as well this has just become the forefront of my life recently and I enjoy sharing my journey!)

With that in mind, I wanted to share what it's like deciphering card pulls with Hermes, particularly when it comes to tasks. As I've started in a couple of previous posts, tasks are basically your training and given to you by your god to strengthen your skills with them and teach you how to work under them. It's similar to job training.

The Cards

Before I ask for my tasks, I like to ask him if he has any messages for me, typically a 1 or 2 card pull. I was immediately given the Sword card.

The card represents birthright and purpose. I had taken this as another small confirmation that priestesshood was the right path for me (as I had done a small tarot reading for myself earlier saying something similar). I had no clue that he had drawn the card for a meaning I would only figure out later, but with that now in mind, I moved on. I asked for my next task for him and drew the following cards:

I was a little surprised to see 2 cards from my last task reappear (the fields and the cottage in the woods) and at first glance of the cards I assumed it would be another Demeter message (as it is winter it would make sense for her to be particularly active). But the crossroads stumped me. The crossroads are typically associated with Hecate, not Demeter. Additionally, I didn't draw the Herald card (Hermes's card), so I wasn't entirely sure if this was a message to be delivered. Did Hecate want to speak with me directly? But why draw the Pair card? Hecate is a trio goddess.

Epithets

The cards stumped me for a while and I ended up leaving the task incomplete, deciding it'd be best to revisit with a clearer head (I was dealing with a lot yesterday).

As I woke up this morning, I looked to my references to find a suitable epithet of Hermes to pray to this morning. And while looking, I noticed one specifically that piqued my interest. One I wasn't aware of before.

Hermes Trikephalos.

Hermes of road-intersections. Hermes three headed.

Hermes has a crossroads association.

Suddenly my cards started to slowly piece together. The crossroads card was never about Hecate, Hermes is the god of travel, the messenger of gods. ALL gods, including the chthonic. I didn't need the Herald card, he had represented himself using an epithet he wanted me to learn.

Interpreting the Cards

I had learned from my previous task that Hermes doesn't always use the cards' intended meaning when giving me my tasks, so I always observe the cards themselves and the picture they create before interpreting them individually. I almost exclusively use this deck for Hermes because it's a panoramic deck, meaning when put together, the cards can form a much larger image:

While naturally everything doesn't line up perfectly, it does create a scene. A pair (which I immediately considered lovers) overlooking a field and home in isolation. Across from the home (a little distance away), a goddess statue points to a crossroads. I'd already established that the crossroads card signified Hermes, but it was more than that. The crossroads represent the intersection between our world and the gods' and are heavily associated with the chthonic gods. It represented a goddess at the crossroads, her back turned to a lonely field that she overlooked with her lover.

Suddenly, it all made sense. The cards spoke of Persephone, leaving the mortal fields of her mother's (hence me drawing both cards of Demeter's from my last reading) and making her descent back into the Underworld. My task was not a message to deliver, but a study session.

The Completed Task

I had learned a new epithet oh Hermes, had learned how to read my cards without using the actual meanings of them, and learned how to read them as a vision/ story. Sometimes, my duties as a messenger will involve me needing to not observe the strict meaning of the cards and instead interpreting them as a vision. Similar to skrying.

I was fully prepared to run around trying to figure out what message to give to who, but this was an absolute blast to decipher. Hermes's tasks tend to be criptic and very much as a combination of games. Clue, Guess Who, word association, puzzles, riddles, etc. He makes you have to think critically and outside of the box and purposely tries to stump you. Things won't mean what you think they mean, and it turns into a battle of wit, and if he can successfully outsmart you. And your job as his underling is to not let him. Honestly, I think if I were using any other deck, I'd be pulling my hair out.

I revisited the Sword card from earlier and realized it had a whole new meaning. It wasn't just confirmation. He was telling me to be sharp, and to always be ready for his tricks and games. And I'll be moving forward with that in mind from here on out.

This is what it's like, training under Hermes. And it's the most fun I've had in years.

[roboj0e]

Wade would bully Peter bc someone said he would and wrote it happening and bc y'all are so boring and annoying. Fanfiction isn't about what's canon or strictly in character thats why they're called transformative works. I think y'alls weird obsession with what's cannon while also trying to heavily police what and how ppl make fiction is honestly been the death of fandom and creativity.

There hasn't been a large scale cross over in fandom in years that either wasn't completely ironic or torn down by bullies that it fizzled out bc y'all don't know how to have fun. Even that recent debate over how sans would react to his brother death is further proof of y'all's lack of understanding of interpretation and fan works. Fanwork are supposed to exist in the reality of the fiction of the person who wrote it. NOT what IS the right interpretation bc there are NO right interpretation except for what is made canon which can be anything bc WE aren't the creators.

Who cares what happens in the comics. The comic themselves don't care what happens in other comic runs unless it's specifically meant to be a spin off/continuation.

Wade is SUPPOSED to be a morally ambiguous character. I know y'all have washed him of all the ambiguity bc ppl have told you that how ur supposed to approach fiction and y'all can not perceive a protag who might not be the best person who ur also NOT supposed to hate (god forbid a protag not have Jesus adjacent morality) but thats what he is. He'll do whatever anyone wrote him doing bc he's not real and also anything thats morally ambiguous or toxic bc that's one of his character traits and what was supposed to set him apparent from other heros he's not even a hero he's an antihero. I can not believe y'all are moralizing something as tame as bullying. Bullies making up with their victims happens in DISNEY movies now y'all tryna make that into some problematic take. OMG. And this is from someone who WAS bullied briefly until I learned how to fight and stand up for myself.

Thinking that someone who romanticizes something morally wrong couldn't have possibly been through that experience is the direct antithesis of fiction. It also makes no sense. Plenty of ppl write from experience but also sometimes turning it into a story in which they control how they interact with a bully does A LOT FOR REGAIN CONTROL OF THOSE NEGATIVE EXPERIENCES. STOP TRYING TO SUS OUT WHO HAS TRAUMA OR NOT. also STOP thinking that you are an authority of certain traumatic experiences you aren't every experiences are very VERY personal and the portrayal of those experiences should have NOTHING to do with yours bc there is NO way to encapsulate all lived experiences. And even if someone hasn't been bullied who cares again decenter yourself from a fictional scenario that should in now way be a representation of you bc u are not the center of the universe.

(THIS SECTION UNDERNEATH IS MY HEAD CANON U DONT HAVE TO TELL ME U DONT LIKE AGE GAPS IDC)

Secondly wade only wouldnt bully Peter TO ME bc I'm not a teenager in highschool like some of y'all and highschool fics don't interest me and wade to me shouldne even be in highschool and always be the much older one in the dynamic. They shouldnt even be near the same age for me. But whatever floats ur boat. You can do whatever you wan't but when y'all make these long posts telling OTHER ppl what they can and can't do OR how you think YOUR interpretation of the character is the most right your crossing a line frl.

Edit: I read both Deadpool and spiderman comics btw plus the very wonderful spiderman/Deadpool run. GASP I know someone who likes the source material but doesn't adhere strictly to it bc I actually have an imagination and like to have fun instead of kissing marvels feet and remaining in a narrow interpretation of a character. A rare breed I guess.

Edit edit: I also think alot of y'all have a very romcom take on spideypool. And thats definitely fine love my fair share of fluff. But I have a much more complicated take on them. Again I think an age gap compliments these complications. It adds to an imbalanced perspective of both of them towards each other. I'm also very uninterested in a spideypool that grow healthy together or peter "fixing" wade. I want them to overcomplicate their relationship but for it to also be a healthy balance of comedic and fun and hot monkey sex that keeps them interested in a less than perfect relationship. A sorta push and pull from both sides.

[angel-eyes05]

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.

[lucid-loves]

Black Blood Red Kiss ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley ~ Part 1

Pairing: Ghost x vampire!reader (fem!reader, 141!reader, callsign “Fangs”)

Word Count: 1.9k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, smut, biting, teasing, kisses

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: Being turned into a vampire never stopped you from joining the military. In fact, it only made it easier for you with new strength, stamina, reflexes, and precision. The only challenge you now faced was keeping your true nature a secret. This is incredibly difficult to do when your new teammate, Ghost, smells so delicious. What will happen to your relationship with him once you both get a dangerous taste of each other?

Chapter Synopsis: You were celebrating a mission accomplished at a bar with your team. Your heart isn’t fully in it, however, due to your hunger and Ghost’s stubborn desire to get closer to you. When he does, the consequences are catastrophic, tasty, and exciting. (SLIGHT SMUT ALERT) 

Part 1 ~ Part 2

God, he smelled delicious. He always smelled delicious. Feverish bourbon, bitter black coffee, rich blood oranges. Your stomach grumbled, a pang of pain punching your entire torso. 

You were so hungry. The last meal you had was weeks ago. You were busy on a mission, so you didn't have a moment to yourself to eat. Besides that, you had a hard time being in a close space with Ghost. 

However, you still had to wait to eat. It was tradition within the team to spend time at the bar after a successful mission. You were pressured to come since it was your first mission with them. A right of passage, though you couldn't care less about. Traditions like this were just inconvenient to you. At least while you were starving and sitting next to a man that smelled like a favorite meal.

Ghost sat next to you, a choice he made on purpose. You performed your signature move to avoid closer interaction by ignoring him. You were able to play it off as aloof. Your stomach and senses were anything but.

You've only been on the team for 5 months, but you craved him the moment you met him. His aroma pulled you right in and plunged you into a cycle of starving for his blood and pleasurable tension of imagining just what he tasted like. 

What somehow saved you each interaction was that you always knew better. Feasting on someone had particular consequences. A consequence that you couldn't control. If word got out that you were a vampire too, your life could be over. 

Like going on a bad blind date one time years ago was your fault. 

"What are you thinking about, Fangs? You're staring into your drink like it holds the secret to life." Gaz patted you on the shoulder, breaking you out of your stupor.

Blinking, you returned to reality and prepared a lie. Soft rock played on an old-school jukebox in the back. Some people took to a wooden dance floor. The smell of wine and sweat wasn't enough to distract you from the scent next to you. "Not much. Just listening."

Gaz chuckled and shook his head, "You can join in the conversation, you know? We still don't know much about you, so any contribution would be interesting."

"Yeah, Lass! Like how the hell did you beat my obstacle course record?!" Soap suddenly chimed in, tipping the opening of his beer bottle towards you. 

Price gave a hearty laugh. "Or how about how the hell did you learn to drive like that in Spain?"

You averted your gaze back into your wine glass. Your response came out cool and collected. You were always good at keeping your cool. Sometimes it made you seem too serious or cold, but the recent skills you showed off on the last mission made them think you were an action star. Much easier to approach and rely on. "Training and practice."

"Where do you learn to practice driving like that?" Ghost finally spoke up, immediately capturing your full gaze as you looked up. 

Within that short moment, Ghost himself felt relief. You were finally looking at him after all this time.

As your eyes locked with his, warmth blanketed your cheeks. Your heart skipped a beat, and your starvation hurt your guts. 

Keeping a poker face, you got up from the bar and put your leather jacket on. "Special racetrack and drag racing experience. I'm gonna go smoke."

Just as quick as he got you, he lost you.

Your exit out of there as soon as Ghost tried to talk to you was probably deemed cold, but you didn't have time to care. Your cheeks were on fire from just responding back to him. 

With him being right next to you like that, you were a mess. Salivating from his scent, aching for the subtle heat you felt from his large body. 

Stepping outside, you felt a sharp chill run through you. A chill that you found refreshing as you found a spot to smoke. 

The usual bar was situated on a hill. A wooden rail trailing around the parking lot allowed onlookers to take in the sights with ease. You picked a nice spot, lit up your cigarette, and felt the nerves melt away. There were no stars due to light pollution from the city in the distance, but the shining lights from the city were still pretty in its own way.

While you slowly puffed, you thought about what excuse to make up to allow you to be excused early. They probably wouldn't like you leaving early since you'd be leaving a tradition. You couldn't imagine any of them saying anything or forcing anything to get you to stay, though.

You just needed food. Food that will tie you over until the next social timing. You'd make it up to them later when it wasn't inconvenient for you or your appetite.

"I'd prefer it when people tell me they don't like me openly." A deep, Manchester-woven voice admitted next to you. 

You nearly choked on smoke as his scent invaded your senses again. That dark, hurtful tone made your knees melt. A small amount of guilt invaded your heart, though you reminded yourself that none of this was truly your fault. You didn't mean to be so. . . well, mean.

The familiar blush invaded your cheeks again. You turned your face to hide it behind your hair. God, and you were alone with him now? "I don't dislike you."

"Then why don't you talk to me, Fangs?" He inquired, interest now piqued. What other reason could you have for distancing yourself from him.? You clearly got along fine with the rest of the team. He's seen you chat casually with the others. You didn't chat much, but you certainly could hold a conversation longer with them than him.

Whenever he stepped into the room, you almost always immediately bolted. You were more curt with your interactions with him too. No one else has really noticed, but he has. It drove him crazy.

You sighed deeply, now racking your brain for another lie. Talking to him was making you short-circuit too, your heartbeat drumming in your ears. 

Just one bite.

"I'm still adjusting to being on a new squad." You shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek, feeling the sting of your sharp canines. A trait you couldn't hide. Hence the ironic call sign. 

Ghost was quiet for a moment, digesting what was an obvious lie. It pissed him off that you still acted icy and bored. To kill an instinctive, aggressive retort, he began to search for his own cigarettes in his jacket pockets, taking you in while he looked. 

He thought you were beautiful when he first met you. Too beautiful to be in one of the ugliest parts of the military. And then soon after he learned you had the strength of a soldier, your beauty increased tenfold. 

Your eyes were so bright that they seemed to glow in the dark at times. Your lips, while never smiling, were still plump and pink for kisses. Your hair was always shiny and soft to the eyes, let alone to the touch. He didn't mean to, but he often thought about what it would be like if you were his. You were that eye-catching.

And all you ever did about it was shrug about it. At least to him. How could you be so aloof about it?

A cold wind flowed by, wiping your hair back from your face for a moment. In that second, Ghost was able to see just how flustered you look. Cheeks burning, eyes feverish, lip biting. All right as he just got his cigarette alit. 

His heart felt like it had stopped beating. A subtle, sweet perfume carried with the wind. Lavender and dark chocolate. Pipe tobacco and vanilla. Peach and oak wood.

His attraction to you was growing. Much too quickly. He could have lived with just looking. But now he definitely wanted to have a taste. 

How could he not have these stirring urges when you looked and smelled so pretty?

Trying to get his scent out of your head, you dropped the final butte into a nearby trashcan. "I'm probably going to head home actually. I'll say goodbye to the boys and get some rest."

"I want you to stay." Ghost admitted openly, his sudden desire mixing with his natural confidence into a dangerous concoction. You couldn't help but look back at him. The cigarette he just lit was quickly tossed away. He didn't even smoke it. 

Your blood was sizzling. You felt goosebumps just from your instinctual imagination. You got another hit of his musk.

Fuck, I'm starving. 

Before you could compose yourself, Ghost took your chin and forced you to look at him. 

And there it was. A facial expression that turned him on beyond belief. Your bashful expression that also begged to be satisfied. Your sharp eyes torn between the conflicting emotions that make you automatically want to hide your face. 

He was so close to you that you could feel his heat. Hear it too with your heightened senses. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, insinuating a smirk under that skull mask you thought was quite cool. 

If he wasn't wearing that mask, I could bite him so easily.

You bit your lip hard, nearly drawing blood. His eyes were so oceanic. He smelled so delicious. Ghost was driving you crazy.  

It's not like it would hurt him. 

It was probably worse that biting him wouldn't hurt him. A huge reason why you have refused even the most obvious opportunities. 

"Fangs?" He called out in a tease, whispering it close to your sensitive ears. He wanted to see more of your irresistible expressions. He wanted to see that icy resolve finally crumble for him.

But what he didn't know was that it was stirring more of your appetite up. You trembled as you felt a fever set into your body. It's been way too long since a last meal. Now you really wanted him. 

Your breathing got heavier as instincts threatened to take over. Your stomach grumbled loudly, delivering an aching pain that finally knocked you off your feet. 

Ghost caught you before you fell, holding you close to his broad, muscular chest under a dim lamp posy. He cursed, realizing that he might have pushed you too far. Your body heat was now ice cold, yet your cheeks still gave a rosy hue. "Fangs?"

"Hungry." You whimpered, clutching onto the sides of his jacket for dear life. 

Now he was worried. "When was the last time you ate?"

"T-Two weeks ago. . ." You confessed, your brain is too clouded with the yearning to eat him up to check yourself. 

His voice got louder, shock and anger taking over. "Two weeks?! Why the hell-"

"Ghost. . ." You cried, tears prickling the corners of your eyes. Your soft, needy tone making him suddenly want you.

Bite. 

"Fangs?"

Bite!

You moved the balaclava fabric lining his neck up with shaky hands. "I wanna devour you."

Sharp teeth bit into Ghost's skin before he could register what you were doing to him. Hot, sweet blood graced your taste buds and filled you so much satisfying pleasure you nearly fainted. 

Feeling your teeth puncture his skin was startling, but the feeling was quickly replaced with something else. Something dark and primal. Something so blissful and arousing. 

Your scent enveloped him so perfectly. Your body was pressed so tight to his as he held you in his arms. Your moans as you drank made him shiver. 

Ghost really wanted to fuck you. You could taste it in his delectable blood. You could feel it pressing against your backside. 

But you knew that it wasn't genuine. Just a side effect of being fed upon. You felt the same sensation within yourself. A tingling cunt. Rapid heartbeat. Wettening panties. A good fuck after a good meal is what you craved next. 

To feel his strong muscles wrap around your naked frame instead of clothed. To feel his own teeth against your skin to make marks. To feel his cock hit every sensitive spot in your pussy until the both of you burst.

This is why you kept your distance from Ghost. 

You should've kept your distance from Ghost. 

Reality seeped in more clearly as some of your hunger was satiated. With a half-full belly of his blood, you pulled back. Thankfully, you didn't drink too much. Ghost still had a healthy color from what you could see. A bit red, but at least not pale white. 

Looking into his eyes again made your breath hitch. Feverish. Hot and bothered. Not an ounce of confusion, anger, or betrayal. His gaze darted to your lips immediately, his hot breath passing through the fabric of his mask. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so badly too.

Before things truly went too far, you got up from his embrace. You didn't say a word or take another look back as you headed straight to your motorcycle. It only took you a second to put your helmet on and drive away. 

How were you going to work with him now?