#so not my best work but like i had to draw something with this worm aoooouuugghhhh *explodes

[doodoodinklefart]

back for another jjk yap sess, this time abt geto LOL...

im honestly a little surprised i never noticed this before but the way that geto (who thought that his best friend was killed and saw a girl he was essentially willing to uproot his life for get murdered right in front of him) tries SOO hard to stay calm while toji's talking and then the MOMENT he brings satoru up again and trivializes riko's death, suguru loses it. i'm thinking suguru let him talk in the first place despite the risk of letting toji reveal his pact (and wanting to kill him Very Bad) cuz he figured it would be better to understand toji's deal since he beat satoru, something that suguru trusted would not happen

but then he starts referring to satoru strictly as "the six eyes", and i think that suguru, one of the few people that saw satoru as a person beyond his cursed technique or his family name could not help but get super pissed abt toji's dehumanization of satoru (and riko too, who he only refers to as the star plasma vessel). i just thought that it was very interesting....... suguru cared so much and it makes me CRAZY AS FUCK.

like, to begin with i think its sooo so interesting that suguru made it a point to be considerate of all the human parts of satoru despite the fact that im sure most other people assume he doesn't need to be worried about. i'll never stop thinking about suguru asking if he needs a break since he's overusing his technique, telling him he worked hard after getting back to the school, trying to rush to his side after he's been stabbed and being conflicted when satoru tells him to leave with riko and kuroi... he didn't just assume satoru could handle all that shit on his own cuz even if he could have he shouldn't have to.

also related omg im almost done i promise but!! the scene where suguru gets to the star religious group and sees satoru again for the first time...

the way that he can't even believe his eyes, probably in part because he's acting way different but also because he thought he FUCKING DIED. and he had to drag himself out of the tomb of the stars and probably went to look for gojo's body before even going to shoko. and then he had to tell her he couldn't even find his body man WHAT THE FUCK!!! i think maybe saw a twitter post about this part in particular but he might have thought toji took riko's body and satoru's, so the thought that he went all the way there thinking he'd have to see two dead bodies of people he cared about... ugh. suguru geto i love you

[arinakaard]

its been 84 years since ive drawn anything

[targaryenimagines]

Pairing: Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Since people seemed to enjoy this series so much, I decided to just make an all around master post for it! The works included in this Masterlist can be read as a series or stand-alone. (If you’d like to see anything specific just send in a request and I’ll try my best to create something for you! It can even be something before the ‘My Khaleesi’ events took place.)

Warning: This series contains G!P Daenerys.

Westeros Era

My Khaleesi — Daenerys claims more than the Iron Throne on the day she takes King’s Landing. [NSFW]

The Khaleesi’s Queen — Daenerys doesn’t like to be interrupted; not when she has everything she could ever want within her grasp. [NSFW]

A Gentle Flame — After months of trying, you are finally able to give something back to your Khaleesi that she never thought she’d have again — an heir to not only House Targaryen but the Iron Throne. You just aren’t sure how you’d like to reveal the good news to your beloved; taking solace in your dearest friend’s company as he tried to help you in revealing the truth. Of course, you should have known that your dragon’s possessive fire would never be quenched — not even for Grey Worm.

Twin Flames — With your due date drawing nearer, you begin to wonder what sort of life you’re going to be bringing into the world; dealing with your constantly fluctuating emotions is easier than facing the thoughts that grace your mind during the midnight hours. You should have known it’d only be a matter of time before your dragon became aware.

Shattered Wings — You had known, from the moment you stepped foot onto Westeros, that this cursed land would take from you more than you were willing to give; rip you apart, only to put you back together slightly off so you were never truly whole again. You just never expected, never even believed, that it’d be your darling son, your precious Prūmia, your Viserion, that would have to pay the price; and that it would be all due to the actions of your Khaleesi. [NSFW]

Essos Era

Embers of Desire [WIP] — The romance between yourself and your Khaleesi had blossomed into something beyond your wildest dreams; the sense of love and belonging growing with each moment that passed and, with it, the sense of growing desire. It’s to be expected that things finally grew to a breaking point when you’re both left alone in the Great Pyramid. [NSFW]

[glaciertea]

Tickets for Two

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader two-shot

Part 2

This is part one of this story that's been on my mind for quite a while.

Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has it quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not the worst.

Well, there is one thing that keeps you from leaving this job.

The huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.

CW: Nothing for this chapter, just having a crush on Miguel.

Word count: 1.7k

There was something about Thursday nights in the movie theater that always made you exhilarated.

It wasn't the smell of freshly stale popcorn that stunk up your nostrils or the fact that you were able to score the after-hours time slot on this day. The ones many would kill to have because after 9 p.m., the place is a barren ghost town. Oh, no. It wasn't one of those reasons. 

It was him.

Throughout the year and a half you managed to survive working here; you've never seen a man like that before in your life. Yes, you've seen your fair share of attractive people come in and out; of course, this was a place to watch the latest hit-or-miss films. But this one, this one was different.

Tall, high cheekbones, a jawline that could shapren diamonds merely by looking at them, those piercing eyes, and those muscles. You always have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming.

He started coming three months ago for the ‘Traditional Thursdays’ feature presentation. Your theater would show old movies from the 1930's ranging to the 2020's or 2030's. It was a nice addition, as your boss wanted to have that “retro-style feel,” and it was pretty successful… if one were to go at the 9 p.m. slot. That frame usually brought in a decent amount of customers, but you were happy to not deal with that anymore.

You managed to get in the ten-to-one schedule block. It was a ghost town during those hours, especially with the midnight showings. You would lounge behind the concession, eyeing a few nightcrawlers emerge, but you would wait for him.

He would walk through the sliding doors exactly at midnight. Never a minute early, never a minute late. The actual film doesn't begin until 12:10 to showcase the following week's feature and a trailer or two. 

So it gives him enough time to head in your direction. He has become a regular for you, always ordering a medium black roast coffee, a small popcorn, and a pack of gummy worms. It got to the point where you realized the items were never going to change, so you made it a habit to have them prepared for him on hand. You barely speak because you don't know what to conjure up, and you certainly don't want to make a fool of yourself, so you stick to the basic “Here's your order” and “Enjoy your film.”

He always responds with a “Thank you” or an “I appreciate it,” and each time, your knees will wobble. His voice was smoother than the butter that you poured on the popcorn. He had you weak. His chiseled profile, his domineering height—he was too good to be true. You want to know more about him, but he's very much to himself. You are intimidated by him; his demeanor can make him seem unapproachable, but that only draws you in more.

There will be a day you will finally find the courage to strike up a conversation. One day.

You just weren't expecting it to be today. You manned the concussion stand, eyeing the time and counting the milliseconds. It was, of course, slow, but you loved it. Easy money to you.

His order was fresh and ready to go; he was going to stroll in less than a minute, and you had to put a lid on your excitement. And like clockwork, he came in and made his way right to you.

Putting on your best smile, you placed the snacks and beverage on the counter. “I got everything ready to go, sir. Piping hot and a new batch of popcorn made.”

“Actually, I want to switch it up. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.”

Your brain practically malfunctioned. Not from the request, but from the fact he uttered more words to you. Your reaction must have given something away as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“If not, that's fine. I don't want you wasting supplies on me.”

Scolding yourself, you shook your head and waved your hands. “No, no! No, sir, it's not an inconvenience at all. I'll gladly ring you up with a new order. Anything for the customer.” You despised saying that phrase as it got so many ungrateful, smug idiots out of problems they decided to cause. But for him? You would repeat it endlessly.

Discarding the usual and clearing the order from the register, you nodded. “What are your taste buds tingling for?” Did you really say those words in that order? Your body suddenly wanted to combust.

The man raised a brow as you chuckled nervously. “That sounded... less dumber in my head.”

His lips turned upwards at that, and your heart stopped. He smiles? He can smile! You never once saw him do that, but if you did, you managed to miss it. He managed to look more radiant; how was that possible?

“Well, my taste buds are craving pretzel bites, fruit snacks, and... can I make my medium roast into a large?”

“Yes, sir, I'll try to get it done before the film starts.” 

“No hay necesidad de apresurarse. Take your time.”

“Okay.” You squeaked out, hiding your flustered state from him.

Miguel rested his arms on the countertop and observed the way you moved back and forth, blending new beans and meticulously placing the hot pretzels in a bag. 

“Here you go.” You reached down and took a packet of fruits and propped it nicely on the pretzel bag. “Steaming and raring to go.”

“Are you usually precise when making these orders?” Miguel pulled his wallet out and paid for the meal, leaving a nice tip.

“Kind of. Maybe it's because I have more time to do these things, and I like my regulars to enjoy nice treats.” You grinned and went to clean up his usual. “I hope you enjoy.

“I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Definitely keeping sure. Thank you again.”

You didn't know what meant by that as he took up his things and headed off to catch the film. You put your hand to your chest and calmed your heart rate, going on about your night. You honestly believed that would've been the end of that interaction and that the following week would revert back to the same old, same old, but you were far from it.

The next Thursday, he was there, but fifteen minutes earlier, asking for a new item from the menu alongside the other treats. You were once again thrown off, but that didn't mean you got to be near his presence more, and if not longer. 

It started off with small extras. A bag of pretzels, sized up on the popcorn, an extra bag of candy—nothing too extravagant. However, as the weeks coasted by, the orders got bigger. A hotdog, flatbread pizza, sliders—those meals took you longer to make, but you did not mind one bit. 

You got to chat with him constantly; when Thursday rolled around, you had that extra pep in your step. The conversations ranged from his tedious office filled with people of the same personality, the many tales of strange movie customers from you, or anything that springs to mind. He was awkward, loveable, and sweet, and your crush for him only grew more with each visit. To the point that it was overwhelming.

And it wasn't blowing away anytime soon. 

You were fixing him up a basket of curly fries and chicken tenders casually yapping away when the topic of movie genres popped up.

“I'm into animated movies. They seemingly are able to convey more emotions than actual humans.”

Miguel enjoyed watching you; he honestly preferred looking at you than the film he was supposed to see. “I enjoy them as well. They tend to have moments that resonate with you on a higher emotional level.” He tapped his finger on the glass counter. “Do you have any favorites?”

“Hmm.” You rubbed your chin before moving back over to the fries and dumping some extra salt and pepper on them (they barely had any flavor to them). “I like a good Lixar film. It's funny how they're able to give certain things sentiment. Rather it's inanimate or not, they find a way. I mean, they gave a torso and sweater emotions. A sweater!” You poured the fries into the plastic basket and moved onto the tenders. “Now in particular, I love Bouillabaisse. Up is a heartbreaker, but I can understand the older man's pain. Searching Elmo is so gorgeous, especially for the time it came out. And Coco, that's a tearjerker. That ending scene when he's singing to her? Gets me every time.” 

“I enjoyed all those as well.” Miguel took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee. “Especially the last one.”

“Oh yeah?” You grabbed some tongs and flipped the tenders to cook them evenly. 

“Sí. A bit of a bias though.” 

“A bias?”

“I share the name of the main character.” He stared right into your eyes as he said that.

“Miguel.” It was velvety as it slid off your tongue.

Was that a suave way of him giving his name? It never occurred to you that you actually never learned his name. He knew yours because of the required name tag, but you were glad to know it now and took it with no complaints.

“It fits.” You smiled and finally finished and rang up his meal. “I shouldn't keep you from the movie. I hope everything is of satisfaction for you.”

“You already know it will be.” He paid and reached for his goods when he stopped.

You crooked your neck and looked down to make sure you didn't miss anything. His usual and the new meal were there, so you didn't know what was up. 

“Is everything okay? Did I mess up your order?”

“Everything is fine. I only want to…” he snatched up a napkin and scanned, even going as far as peering over the counter.

“Miguel?” 

“Do you have a pen?” 

“Yes?” You took one from under the register and handed it to him.

“Thank you.” He scribbled down at lightning pace and folded it half, sliding it across to you. “I'll see you then.” He bowed his head, snagged up his meal and left. 

You had to wait several seconds to recover from your shock when you hastily snatched up the napkin and opened it up. You drew your lips to your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming. 

There were ten digits written in blue.

[jacevelaryonswife]

Supermassive Black Hole

A duo project changes some perceptions about your classmate

pairing: Michael Gavey x fem!reader

warnings: smut, period tipical misoginy (2006 guys), loss of virginity, english is not my first language.

word count: 3,297

ewanverse masterlist

When a firm knock came from the door, a name automatically entered your mind.

Gavey.

Michael Gavey.

You imagined that he would come to your meeting eventually, you actually longed to, although you didn't admit it. That idiot deserved to be put in his proper place — which was necessarily below you.

It had all started when a duo project was designated by draw earlier that day, and for both luck and bad luck your partner was the awkward genius, and difficult to deal with Michael Gavey.

There was no shortage of adjectives to be used for the unstable dirty blonde, which was truly fascinating. He intrigued you with his sharp intellect and his eccentric personality to the same extent that he repelled you with his peculiar and almost aggressive way. He was quite a figure, although you didn't allow yourself to think much about it.

It was also not a mystery that he was a true Norman No Mates, which wasn’t difficult to understand since his social skills were disastrous. The memory of him screaming at Oliver Quick in O Week never left your mind, especially the sudden change of attitude when he lowered his head and responded to the sum that Felix's pet (as your friends called him) made. You watched the whole situation closely, with a lot of curiosity, since your tables were close.

After that, whenever he entered an environment, you wondered what he would do next. You never knew what to expect from Gavey.

He started fervent debates during classes, demonstrating unparalleled intelligence and self-confidence, in addition to a slight arrogance that made him look strangely hot. Obviously a dispute of nervous male egos originated from these discussions, which made you watch with veiled fun and irritation while remaining silent. You admired the way his brain worked for math, but you didn't understand how he could be so bad at dealing with other people.

Because of this, you chose to keep a considerable distance from the horizon of events that involved Michael and his complexity, and for a long time this worked perfectly well. Until that damn moment.

Feeling humiliated by the way that insolent worm acted when trying to take responsibility for the whole activity for yourself, as if you were incompetent and incapable, you immediately confronted him about such behavior when he went to your meeting at the end of the class while you collected your material.

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"I'll finish this by Saturday, no need to worry," he repeated condescendingly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Do you think I won't participate? Or did you just choose to pretend that I don't exist?" You asked with your eyebrows furrowed, posture becoming more imposing.

He remained silent for a short moment, seeming to analyze the situation (or the best answer to it, you couldn't tell). He wasn't used to being so reluctant to say what he thought, so it was a surprise to see him using time to devise something.

"I don't like working in group, I thought it would be faster if I did everything," he looked down quickly, running away from your gaze.

"I also don't like working with other people and I didn't even think about excluding you," you replied.

“Of course you don't.” There it was. The veiled arrogance that you so hated, present in most of your classmates.

Few were your STEM classmates, since your class was mostly composed of resentful boys who did not know how to deal with a woman without seeing her as a less intelligent object. Luckily not everyone was like that and you managed to put together a really cool group.

When all you did was send a cold and angry look, Michael cleared his throat and tried to speak again, but you cut him off impatiently. "When you're less asshole look for me again, I think you have my Myspace."

Who did that little shit think it was to treat you like that? 'Of course you don't' He was so fucking pretentious! And that's because he almost couldn't keep eye contact for a long time.

Pathetic.

That skinny nerd tormented your thoughts for the rest of the afternoon and served as gossip between your friends. Predictable. The way he acted was not very different from what you imagined about his annoying self-sufficiency. And even so, there he was, stopping in front of your door (more nerdy than ever) with his laptop and notebook in hand, wearing a blue button striped shirt, black belt and cream pants. He had a terrible taste in clothes, although they totally reflected his personality, he was curious.

“I'd like to apologize for my behavior earlier, it wasn't cool,” he started as soon as you leaned carelessly against the door.

Interesting.

You considered it for a moment, looking at him before turning his back and clearing the way for him to enter your space. "It wasn't that hard, was it?" You pulled a chair for him and threw yourself dramatically on the bed before sitting down to face him, already well established and looking closely at your figure. "So... I assume you've already thought about the structure of the project."

Of course he had thought.

He opened the laptop and exposed his idea while showing some calculations in his notebook, and you made an effort to pay attention to what was said and what was sketched. Obviously his idea was good, great actually, incredibly structured and cohesive with what the professor wanted. But you also had some ideas and would like them to be taken into account, telling you what you had planned. Surprisingly, he showed to consider your suggestions, even praising them — you knew they were good, but not that his ego allowed you to visualize this. You suggested a division of parts that would be meticulously checked in a future meeting.

"As you have already started, I thought about staying with the second part, what do you think?" You asked.

"It's okay, I intend to finish tomorrow maybe, I'll forward some references by email to you."

“Sure.” It was all very bureaucratic and direct. You sneaked up to look at his laptop screen before looking at what he was typing. "I have some of these books here, but I'll look for the others."

And without realizing it, you got into a big problem.

The freshness that radiated from him flooded your senses gradually, looking too long at his neck and jaw...

He had such beautiful features and aquiline dirty blonde hair that it looked so soft. And those hands... those long fingers... no, no, no and no. You (your body) couldn't be heating up to Michael Gavey.

But it's been a while since some fun... and you were at a suggestive time of the month. Maybe... just maybe... It wasn't a bad idea. As you returned to sitting on the bed, specifically next to where his chair was, you analyzed him as he typed the references in the email. He was not bad looking, no, quite the opposite in fact.

He was handsome, really handsome. And you wanted him. You wanted Michael Gavey.

You wanted to fuck him.

Fuck that attitude.

But how? How would you approach that nervous nerd?

Your mind struggled to develop an effective approach. You didn't want to waste time, not with the heat that spread high between your legs. You just waited for him to send the damn email and close the laptop. "Do you want anything to drink?"

“I'm good. I think we ended up here, I'll try to finish my part quickly," he looked at the notebook that was on the pillow, which you anticipated to pick up and deliver it, standing up in a false farewell.

"Sure," and as soon as Michael got up with the notebook and laptop, you held his arms, gently removing the objects while placing them on your study table. "But I don't think you should go now," you used without a more seductive tone while holding his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" He asked still, tense, looking directly into your eyes.

“Are you dating someone?” You asked softly, getting closer, leaning your breasts against his chest.

"No, I'm not," he answered the obvious, but you wanted to hear the obvious with all the lyrics.

Stretching a short distance from his lips, you asked: "So can I kiss you?"

That same look seen earlier was present again, as if his mind worked hard to find a solution to the problem presented. His mouth opened minimally when he took a deep breath, this time his gaze fell on your lips. "Why do you want to kiss me?"

"Because I fucking want it."

And then you collided your lips with his in a demanding kiss that took a long time to be reciprocated, but when it was... oh boy. Michael held your waist and tried to keep up with your rhythm. He wasn’t so experienced, but his lips were soft and pleasant against yours, kissing you with so much enthusiasm that it made you dizzy.

It made you both dizzy.

He couldn't believe was happening — and that it was happening to you. You... gorgeous, sexy and intelligent. You with a nice and phenomenal ass, who he believed would never look at him twice. You, who kissed him on the tongue and moved his hands to your chest and ass and smoothed the back of his neck and massaged his shoulder. He'd never been kissed like that before. Had never touched a girl like that.

What the fuck was going on?

With the deepening of the kiss you felt a hardness to press against your belly, inhibiting a conscious smile while Michael struggled between apologizing or pretending that it was not happening. Fortunately, you didn't intend to let that be ignored. Your hand slid from the nape of his neck until it reached the increasing bulge, gently squeezing over his pants, making him moan against your lips. You squeezed again before breaking the kiss.

"I don’t wanna just kiss tonight."

Fuck. He couldn't believe what was going on.

He felt that he would cum right there if your hand kept rubbing his cock.

"Are you sure?" He asked uncertainty, still not convinced that you really wanted him that way. It was so fucking sudden, one minute he was collecting his things to leave and the next he was kissing you.

"All the certainty in the world, and you?" You sang against his lips.

"I-" that would be fucking embarrassing, you would laugh at him, "I want to but- I never-"

Oh. It wasn’t different from what you expected.

"It's okay, seriously, there's no reason to worry about it."

“... are you fucking me or something?” He asked weakly, looking at your beautiful face with lust, seriousness and insecurity. You've never seen him so vulnerable.

"Of course not, I want you Michael, I want that, but if you feel you're not comfortable we don't n-"

"I want that."

“Are you sure?”

“I'm fucking sure.”

He felt a chain of confidence run through his body and leaned over to kiss you. You wasted no time unbuttoning his shirt, groping his newly exposed soft torso. Michael almost sighed when receiving your soft touch, pulling the blouse out of your body and coming across exposed and already hardened breasts.

Fuck.

He almost moaned. They were the first tits he saw in person, it was more than exciting. He held them immediately, massaging, squeezing, experiencing...

"Not like that," you held his hands gently.

"Sorry, I never-"

“It's okay.”

Your hands landed on the belt and unbuttoned it, continuing to unbutton the pants that were urgently removed by him while you discarded your own and hovered only in panties, watching him get rid of the shoes as well. Michael had little time to get used to your half-naked figure, since with a mischievous smile, you slowly lowered your panties and left it accumulated on the floor. He felt his neck and face burn and cock pulse with your vision, contemplating for too long.

You touched him over his black underwear, feeling him hard and big, making him moan.

"I won't last long if you keep fucking touching me like that," he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"So why haven't you taken that off yet?" You shook his head, teasing him, watching him almost tear off his underwear and show off his cock in all splendor. He was packing, bigger than you expected, all pink, beautiful and anxious. “You have such a nice body,” you kissed him lazily, anticipation thrumming through you.

Michael felt himself in the clouds with your body pressed to his without any layer of fabric, but a big wave of anxiety hit him when you walked away to get a condom before gently guiding him to bed. “Relax, let me take control,” no foreplay would be necessary when you were already wet enough to receive it. "Take a deep breath and calm down, it's quite intense, try to be distracted by something else," you adjusted the condom to its length and saw it almost shake. That boy wouldn't last a minute.

He followed your instructions and concentrated as much as possible not to cum fast, holding firmly on your hips but nothing prepared him for your wet and hot folds.

Fuck, not even the best handjobs compare to your tight pussy going down on his cock. He moaned loudly when you rested against his groin, staring at where your bodies connected.

You bit your lips and closed your eyes, feeling deliciously full. He was bigger than average and had a delicious thickness that you would love to squeeze on your walls just to see him have a spasm, but I knew it would be too much for the beginning.

"When you want me to move, just say it."

Oh no, no! He was sure he would end up there even if you moved. "Don't move yet," he replied quickly, "Fuck," he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It was terribly satisfying to see him all vulnerable and red, without the usual arrogance and weirdness, and even better to have him inside you (albeit for a short time presumably). He thought about all the things he heard about sex all his life in those long seconds, filtering out what seemed more credible and useful. Think of something less sexy. It was fucking hard.

“Move.”

“Enjoy baby,” you slid gently up, resting your hands on his chest as you started an experimental and slow rhythm. “Mmm.”

So damn good.

Your juices made the movements easy and smooth, leaving him breathless whenever he was balls deep. The friction generated by the constancy of the movements made you two moan and the tightness on your waist increased. He was a fucking vision with disheveled hair, half-open mouth and crooked glasses, all docile while he was fucked dumb. The feeling of power over such an intelligent man was as exciting as sex, causing a presumptuous smile on your lips when you leaned over to kiss his milky neck, rubbing your body against his.

“Are you enjoying it?” You purred against his skin, kissing him superficially on the lips.

He was in the fucking clouds. And you knew that. Little shit.

He wrapped your body to move his hips against yours. He couldn't hold it anymore, he needed to cum. "I won't last long."

“It's okay, baby.”

Your tits jumped when you started riding it hard at a terrifying pace. He closed his eyes and felt his balls weigh every time you sat on his cock, holding your waist, your tits, your ass, everything you could while you allowed it.

"Fuck- I'm-" he moaned loudly and released his load on the condom, feeling a mind-blowing pleasure that paralyzed his senses and one pulled into a supermassive black hole. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, illuminating the reddish tone that covered it.

So beautiful.

Coming out of the top, you lay comfortably next to him, supporting a part of your peso on his chest while watching him struggling to stabilize his breathing. He still couldn't believe that it had finally happened, and especially with a girl like you.

“Are you here?” You asked after a while with a fun smile, although warm between his legs. He didn't know if he was, but he replied with a panting 'yes'. "Well, because we're not done yet."

What?

“What?” He asked.

“Sex is a two-way street baby, and I haven't come yet,” you purred softly against his ear, biting the lobe.

"I don't know when I'm going to get hard again," he confessed. Well, his brain was working again.

"You don't have these long fingers for nothing, Michael, and if you want it again you'll fuck me with them."

As much as he was affected by a sudden one, his sharp senses were awakened in the implication of a next time. He faithfully believed that hard work would lead him to maximum success in his life, he could not imagine otherwise in this situation. "How should I do that?"

You purred, taking his right hand and guiding it to your wet center. "Always start here if you want to make a girl cum," you circled your bud with his fingers, enjoying the delicious feeling, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Start with one finger, then add another."

He followed your instructions firmly, sticking a long finger and pumping slowly. "Not so slow," you bit your lower lip, somewhat impatiently waiting for the development of a slow orgasm. You needed to cum hard. Taking his hand, you held your middle finger and attached it to your index finger. “Faster.”

And although inexperienced and a little strong sometimes, his fingers felt fucking good on your walls, reaching the sweet point that made your feet's fingers curl. “Keep going, mm.”

"Can I kiss you?"

“Yes.”

Michael collided his lips on yours in a kiss full of tongue and teeth, staying on top while he fucked you with his fingers. He was hypnotized by the sounds you were making, by the warmth of your body, by the taste of your mouth...

“I'm close!”

You couldn't believe that that sleeky nerd of all people was giving you such pleasure.

Michael got up abruptly and used the hand that held his weight to circle your clitoris, making your eyes close with the construction of an abrasive orgasm. He pumped faster, watching your body squirm and your back arch.

“Michael- I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a hot pleasure flooded your senses, holding the sheets and closing your legs with the strong spasms.

It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. And he did that. He made you cum. Michael was still very stunned with everything that happened, watching your figure before being pulled to lie next to you. You rested your head on his chest with a satisfied and tired smile, giving light kisses on his skin, relaxed with the post-orgasm fog.

“Did you like it?” You asked to break the ice.

"You've already asked better questions," he joked with a hoarse laugh, "Of course I fucking liked it."

“Mmm, I like to make sure,” you replied, facing his beautiful blue eyes behind the slightly blurred lenses.

Having your body so close (and with everything that happened) Michael felt his cock contract and a new electric current run through his body. "So there's going to be a next time?"

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taglists

general: @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess @arcielee

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thank you smm @solisarium for the help with this ❤️

[cherrycranes]

20 Minute Break (Davin McDerby x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Davin McDerby x female reader Summary: You've been flirting with this sexy irish bartender all summer, and finally, you get 20 minutes to be alone with him. Word count: 2,414 Contents: (Minors DNI) Smut, semi-public, p in v, unprotected sex, cum eating. Author's notes: Once again, the lovely @fuckiingloser and I teamed up to bring the Davin fanfic count from like 5 fics to 6. He's so underrated, he deserves more love. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Enjoy!

It had been the perfect summer in Montauk. The millennium was coming to its long awaited end and you and your girlfriends had all turned 21 during your vacation. The days had rolled by smoothly with daily trips to the beach and nightly visits to the local bar. As the last summer of the century slipped away, you all decided to spend your last weekend at the lovely beach town visiting your favorite places there before being forced to go back to real life.

The clock hit 11 pm, your friend group dispersed into the crowded beach bar after an hour of pregaming at your hotel. Slightly tipsy, you made your way to the bar, or rather, to the sexy Irish bartender you had been flirting with the entire summer: Davin.

You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you were wearing a deliberate attempt to keep his attention on you and nobody else. A little jean skirt, a cropped t-shirt that exposed your midriff and a strategically placed necklace with a charm that would draw his eyes to your chest, so he could notice you had no bra underneath. Something he really loved. You were perfect, despite matching with the rest of the bar you were impossible to miss.

You made your way to the corner of the bar and there was Davin. In his black v neck shirt, with that auburn hair and that cheeky smile, serving some customers before setting his sights on you as if he had a radar that detected your presence. He tossed you a sexy smirk, walking towards you like every time you came in. It had become as natural as breathing. You flirted all summer and shockingly, that had been it. Nothing else had happened between you two despite the intense sexual tension and banter you shared. Blame it on his work hours. He had come from Ireland to work and hardly had a night off.

“Hey there, gorgeous.” That dreamy thick irish accent had wormed its way inside your ears and into every corner of your mind since you first heard it, creating a Pavlovian reaction that made your pussy flutter a bit every time he talked.

“Hi, you.” You replied with a smile, leaning over the bar closer to him. Without fail, his pale blue eyes fanned over your face and lowered to the charm of your necklace and, of course, noticed your nipples poking through the fabric of your t-shirt, making his smirk wider.

“You’re lookin’ absolutely delicious tonight love… Can I get you your usual? On me, of course.” Davin offered with a flirty tone, and you didn’t deny him the pleasure of treating you. With extra care, he made you your vodka soda with lime, shooting you a little smirk when he handed it to you in what he believed to be the best glass they had at the bar.

“Thank you.” You purred sweetly and he never stopped smirking. He oh so adored when you talked to him like that. “Pretty busy tonight, huh?” You asked after a sip.

“Definitely. Summer’s comin’ to a close, everyone's tryin’ to soak up the last bits of fun...” His beautiful eyes looked into yours, basking in the burn of desire that mirrored his own. Being subtle was not part of your plans and neither was it in his. It had been a long summer of teasing. All bark and no bite. One time you had come close to kissing him, only for his boss to show up and tell him to get back to work. That night you returned to your hotel room so turned on, your fingers had to make do for the night as you fantasized about his accent, his perfect pink lips and his big hands. Visions of him holding your hips and staring into your eyes flooded your mind.

“You think we'll ever get our moment for a bit of fun, Dav?” You asked against the tip of your straw and his gaze automatically flew to your lips, making him lick his own a bit. 

“I got a 20 minute break tonight… Whaddya say, princess?” Davin’s voice was seductive, smile inducing. Even if the break lasted 30 seconds he would have convinced you right away.

“You wanna spend it with me, huh?” You teased. “How could I ever say no to a handsome boy like you?” And he smiled.

 “See you out in an hour, pretty girl.” Davin purred in that accent that made your knees weak and finished you off with a wink. You downed your vodka soda and watched him reluctantly go back to work. To kill time, you found your girls on the dance floor. But even the club house remixes that blasted your ear drums and made your heart match the beat couldn’t get the anticipation away from you. A few more drinks followed in what seemed like an eternity. A look at the time made your heart jump: 12:01 am. Showtime…

You walked out of the hot crowded bar into the cool summer breeze. The smell of saltwater and the faint trace of tobacco in the air filled your senses. Leaning against a car, there was Davin. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, putting it out with his shoe when he noted your upcoming presence.

“Alone at last…” You murmured when you came close enough to him. Those hands you had fantasized so much about finally found their rightful place around your waist.

“Alone at last princess...” Davin leaned in to whisper into your ear, his breath tickling you. “This little skirt’s drivin’ me mad… I wanna take it off you…" 

Those accented words caressed the skin of your neck and delved into your already wet clenching pussy. He pulled back to admire your face and carefully tucked some strands of hair behind your ear. The tips of his fingers were slightly calloused.

“Well, what are you waiting for? We’ve only got 20 minutes...” You whispered playfully, finding mischief in those crystal clear blue eyes. 

“No time to waste…” 

Obeying you, his soft plump lips met yours in a hungry kiss. Your arms snaked around his shoulders and pulled him so close to you, you could almost feel his heartbeat pumping against your chest. Hot, slick tongues melted together. His mouth tasted like spearmint gum and cigarettes, a rush of more heat traveled to your cunt from just that. You moaned softly into the kiss when his hands slided down to grip your ass greedily, massaging it hard.

Electricity flew by around your burning bodies. The temperature was so hot, the metal of his car could start to sizzle. His cock grew hard in his pants and pressed it into your stomach intently. When you pulled away for air with stinging lips, Davin smiled and opened up his car door.

“After you princess.” He played chivalrous, getting a chuckle out of you as you climbed into the backseat. He got in behind you, and closed you in. Time was ticking and you couldn't afford to waste it. Gently, he laid you down on the backseat and hovered over you before leaning in for another feverish kiss. Your hands ran across his smooth auburn hair and successfully got a soft groan out of him.

“Been dreamin’ about this pussy all summer.” Davin purred against your lips in deep, starving lust. His hands reached up under your skirt and slowly pulled your underwear off you. With a sensual trail of kisses, his mouth found your ear and nibbled on it a little before whispering again. “I couldn't even tell you how many times I've touched my cock thinkin’ about you, love… Watchin’ you sip your little drinks out of those straws at the bar givin’ me those eyes… Wishin’  that pretty mouth was on my cock instead…” 

His filthy words did unspeakable things to you. You moaned softly, muffling it mostly with your lip bite. In approval, you lifted your hips and helped him take your underwear off. The small piece of fabric got lost inside his pocket. His v neck shirt met a different fate on the car floor when he pulled it over his head. His zipper got yanked down fast and his jeans and briefs got pulled down in one go. His sizable erection slapped almost obscenely against his toned abs, making you smirk.

“All for you, princess… You get me so hard.” He prided himself. His hand reached down to massage your breast over your shirt, the tips of his thumb and index pinched your hardened nipple just enough to make you moan eagerly. Both the alcohol and the desire prevented you from thinking straight. One thing you did know for certain as you laid on that backseat: Davin was bigger than what you’d thought he would be. Thicker too.

“Fuck me... Please..” You moaned, your pleading eyes on him making him grin.

“Say no more.” His whisper was husky and sensual against your lips. He watched over your bodies, his cock kissing your slick entrance and slowly pushing in, making you moan heavenly.

In pleasure, he threw his head back. His eyelids fluttered shut for a moment, taking in the feeling of your tight wet heat.

“Even better than I dreamed… This pussy…” He groaned to your ear and you moaned so softly. He filled you completely, every inch of his thick cock stretched you open so well he had to wait a few seconds for you to adjust. When you did, he started an increasing rhythm that erased every thought from your brain. Faster and faster, his pistoning hips seemed to be aware of the short time you had left. The sounds of your clenching pussy taking him in and the slap of skin filled his car for you to remember all your life. So needy and desperate. 

“Holy fuck-” You cried out loudly, sweet whiny noises that fed into his own pleasure. Face to face, he leaned closer, his hands held him up like pillars and kept the hard pounding steady.

“You fuckin’ like that baby? Like me fuckin’ you deep?” He panted against the sensitive skin of your neck, you felt his smirk teasing it. 

“Fuck, yes.” You nodded, your arm wrapped around him to pull him impossibly closer and claw at his back when a particular thrust hit you deep. The air in the car had become thick, filthy and heavy, and the windows fogged. You both moaned in unison, closer and closer to coming at any time. Eagerly, Davin fucked you harder, his movements sloppy, his cock throbbing deep inside you.

“Fuck... I'm so close… This cunt’s squeezin’ me so good... Where d’ya want my come, baby?” He whispered against your lips, panting out of breath. The most desperate parts of your brain begged for him to come inside you, let him fill you up to the brim. But your mouth had different plans.

“In my mouth… Wanna taste you…” You moaned back, clinging into him. Davin raised his eyebrows in a pleasureful interest.

“Mmm… Dirty girl…” He replied with the cockiest of smirks, before melting his tongue into yours. The kiss burned your mouth and took over every function it had, effectively muffling out a moan when his hand snaked between you and started to rub hard circles on your clit. His cock never once stopped pumping in and out of you, so hard you almost saw God in the back of your eyelids.

“Oh my god!..” You cried out, the edge approaching you like a spear through the heart. “Please- Dav... I’m close!” 

That delicious, killer pressure built up towards your most primal places, the tip of his cock pistoned into you against the right places. Your whine transformed into a loud cry when your orgasm striked you down. Your cunt throbbed around him and squeezed him like a vice. Your eyes rolled back a little and prevented you from seeing his reaction of pure, unadulterated satisfaction and pride.

“Fuckin hell…” He groaned loudly, watching you under him succumbing to pleasure. “Jesus- I’m gonna come… This pussy feels too good.” 

His accent as thick as the air around you made you moan a bit more, your orgasm extended as he frantically thrusted in you, so close to his own. You nodded, your brain regained lucidity just so you could also memorize the following moments. 

Eagerly, Davin pulled out, his cock coated in your stickiness. He sat back to his knees and looked into your eyes with dilated pupils.

“You want my come, princess?” He cooed to you, his hand pumped himself close to finishing. Hypnotized by the sight, you nodded.

“Yes, please…” You purred back sensually, telling just how much he loved it from the gleam in his eyes. 

“Fuuuuck.” He groaned huskily. “You’re fuckin’ sexy, baby…” 

Naughtily, you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue. He smirked, and you leaned in, letting his red leaking tip sit on your tongue. The taste of the salty precum danced in your mouth. His hand worked on a tandem to give you just what you wanted. A couple more pumps combined with the feeling of your warm tongue on his sensitive head were enough to push him over just a mere seconds later.

“I’m coming baby-fuck…” He almost whimpered out with a moan. His cock pulsed your tongue when the warm salty load coated it in ropes. He watched through half-lidded, amazed eyes, pushing your hair out of your face softly to take in the image of your lips wrapping around his tip.

You savored and swallowed everything diligently, making eye contact with him when you proudly stuck your clean tongue out.

“Fuck-you are the sexiest thing i’ve ever seen…” Davin grinned and rubbed his thumb gently over your bottom lip. “Whaddya say we go for round two, baby?”

Tempting, you thought. Every fiber of your being craved for as many rounds you could gather the stamina for. Spend the hours you couldn’t have with him all summer in the back of his car. But the mere reminder of the passage of time made you check the hour in a quick motion: 12:25 am...

“Fuck…” Davin muttered when he noticed too, his boss’ voice already ringing in the back of his head for being late during a busy night. He scrambled to get dressed, to your sweet amusement. And you thanked your luck.

“Well, what about your break tomorrow?” You asked with a devious smirk.

[rabioa]

First Cut

Alastor x Nurse!Reader - Fluff - Gender Neutral

Alastor has never cared much for the residents of the hotel, but with you, he couldn't help but grow curious. You were so attentive to everyone's health so would you care about him as much? He knows you're scared of him just like everyone else, but maybe your generosity outweighs your logic? Oh, that would be so delightful. You had a bleeding heart so aren't you a helpful little doll! You ought to be rewarded for your boldness, truly

TW: Alastor gets a cut on purpose for your attention, any Hazbin Hotel warnings

My first short fanfic about Alastor!! I love him so much omg :3 i intend to make a part 2 where Alastor returns the favor. I hope you enjoy this and as always, any feedback would be super appreciated!!! Remember to hydrate and remember that you are loved!!!! <333

Imagine you were a nurse while you were alive, and for whatever reason you ended up in Hell. Despite your sins, you still wanted to help others. It's that desire to heal others that led you to the Hazbin Hotel. You had been staying there for a few weeks now, getting used to the new dynamics of everything.

Alastor definitely took notice of you; you weren't quite an employee, yet you somehow became the resident nurse. You fretted over everyone: constantly providing hangover cures for Husk, painkillers for Angel Dust after a filming session, band aids for Niffty, and other medical attention as needed for everyone.

Although you were initially shy around Lucifer, you eventually got comfortable enough to take care of him too. You ensured he got food in his system and some fresh air, even after he locked himself in his room all day.

Much to Alastor's amusement, you wormed yourself into everybody's heart besides his. He noticed how formal and stiff you were around him, growing meek in his presence. You were intimidated by him. It didn't stop you from being polite and sweet though, you just tried your best to slip out of the room whenever he appeared. He was trouble, and you knew that.

Imagine one day though, you're both in the kitchen. He was cooking something for the hotel, a luxury he blessed the hotel with often. You were restocking some ice packs (because a certain spider demon wouldn't return them to their place after each use!). You kept your distance, quiet as a mouse as you placed the melted packs into the freezer. 

Alastor observed you, the way you nervously worked. Your hands would fumble in their rush to be done. He had to give you credit though, you looked composed compared to most other demons.

He continued to chop some vegetables. He was skilled with a knife, moving with lethal efficiency. It was something you noted with apprehension. Still, you focused on your task, not wanting to interact with the terrifying Radio Demon.

Unfortunately for you, he found you amusing. You were bold enough to demand the king of Hell himself eat three square meals a day, yet you were a shivering mouse under his gaze. He briefly wondered though, despite your fear, does your kindness extend to him? 

He decided on an experiment. He was no coward to pain; he had been cut by a blade many times in his life. To become both a skilled chef and killer took trial and error with knives. That was why when he sliced his hand, he didn't even flinch. It was a meager gash on the back of his hand. He let the knife clatter against the counter loud enough to draw your attention. 

“Hmmm,” he let out a disapproving hum at the injury, not so subtly forcing you to see his wound. A performance of sorts. 

“You're injured!” you noted with surprise. Your first reflex was to step closer to him, the ice packs now forgotten. Then you looked at his face staring intently at yours. Oh, this was Alastor. Did you really want to risk angering him by fretting over him? But then again, he was hurt, and you were never one to turn a blind eye to someone in pain. 

Alastor's grin widened when he watched your eyes bouncing back and forth between his hand and his face. He could almost hear the gears in your head turning, trying to figure out if your fear would overcome your morals. He knew human nature well; you might put on a brave front, but just like all the others, you're a meek little ant in the face of his power. 

“It appears so, dear. Would you care to do something about it?” He prompted you, glee in his voice. 

The joy in his voice was undoubtedly a red flag in your book, but you gave in. You let out a huff, a sound you often made when dealing with troublesome patients, before finding the kitchen medical kit. You moved with familiarity, placing the kit on the counter and gently guiding his hand towards you.

Although he expected the kit, he didn't expect you to gently grab his hand and bring it towards you. On instinct, his hand twitched closed around yours for a moment, his claws warning you of how easily he could tear you apart. Your breath had hitched, but your plan remained.

“We need to disinfect the wound first. That knife could've been contaminated,” you muttered. It was mainly to fill up the silence lingering in the air like an insistent plague. His hand relaxed, appeased by your explanation. 

You grabbed an alcoholic wipe and carefully cleaned the wound, the wipe turning red. Your face was still, focused. 

Alastor watched in small surprise, not expecting you to be so attentive towards him. He was so used to other demons being too scared to think straight, yet here you were, touching him so casually. Your touch didn't even feel too incredibly invasive. Instead, it felt professional, but not cold.

You were glad the sting didn't make him react too much, disinfecting the wound going well. You then pulled out a strip of bandage. “The cut isn't too big, so it just needs to be covered as it heals, but I know you wear gloves, so it needs to be extra secured so the glove doesn't mess with it,” you explained. You carefully wrapped it up, and finally finished with your work. You looked up at him, gauging his reaction. 

He tested the treatment, clenching his hand a few times. That seemed to satisfy him. He looked at you and you couldn't help but fidget, averting your eyes. He was still unnerving as fuck, but at least he didn't try to eat you alive?

You began to put your supplies away, but his voice demanded your attention once more. You shifted your gaze over to him when he began to speak.

“Well, aren't you a helpful little doll! You ought to be rewarded for your boldness, truly,” he mused. He picked up the knife with his good hand. You stumbled back a little, bumping into the counter. He twirled the knife as you watched with wide eyes, oh God, maybe he was going to kill you now? Or torture you? You really were bold, oh God. 

He twirled the knife in his hands, the metal glinting menacingly at you. Then he angled it away from the both of you as if holding up a finger. “I'll make you some Gumbo!” He grinned merrily at you. Your paled expression during his teasing had him absolutely delighted. He couldn't help but poke some fun at you, scaring you to your wit's end. 

“O-Oh, thank you… sir,” you let out the breath you were holding, relief flooding your system. 

“Now why don't you go rest up and I'll call you when supper is ready?” He ordered you, waving you off with his bandaged hand.

“Ah, sure, after I finish my-” you trailed off as you looked towards the freezer. Black inky tentacles glowing green were doing your job, placing the ice packs in neatly. “Thank you,” you muttered in surprise. That was one job finished.

“You are quite the diligent little mouse! You should take a break and take care of yourself,” he hummed, leaning against the counter as he watched you. 

Shivers went up your spine, the hairs on your neck prickling. You sighed, forcing the tension in your body to disperse. “Thanks. I suppose I do need to take a break,” you agreed. You didn't have the best sleep schedule, and you could go for a nap after staying up a bit late tending to Husk and then getting the scare of your death. You shuffled out of the kitchen.

Now that Alastor was alone, he began to reflect. You weren't boring, that was for sure. He would definitely have to tease you more. You looked so adorable when focused, why he could just eat you up! He looked back down at his hand, looking at the carefully bound bandages. You remembered he wore gloves. You even took it into consideration. How awfully kind of you. Well, he took it upon himself to reward your kindness with relentless teasing from him.

After all, you were like a shiny new toy for him to bat around. He would see how long it would take to get you around his finger. He clenched his fist, ignoring the pain erupting from the cut. He readied his knife and grabbed his half-cut vegetable to continue his work.

He was getting ahead of himself, getting so excited over his future plans. First, he needed to make some Gumbo.

[jo-harrington]

Pwdre Ser (Eddie Munson)

Summary: It's Saturday Night. Eddie has no plans and the trailer all to himself. Of course he's gonna get himself into a sticky situation...

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings/Themes: Eddie implied to be dating/in a relationship with an unspecified partner, Smut, Male Masturbation, Monsterfucking...kind of?, Fantasies, DnD References

Note: Alright, so I've been playing the Stranger Things Puzzle Tales game and relaying all of my silly little fangirl thoughts about the Hellfire Club levels to @fracturedarkness because why wouldn't I? And the way some of these monsters in-campaign are named definitely confirm Eddie is a monsterfucker.

Thanks to @courtingchaos for the middle-of-the-night beta read.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie couldn't help himself.

Well, ok. Rewind for a second.

Eddie was rarely able to help himself when the mood and timing were just right and his cock was just hard enough.

But tonight was a perfect storm.

His date canceled on him, Wayne was out of the house, he'd just read an issue of Batman featuring the true love of his life--one Dr. Pamela Isley--and he got inspired for an upcoming Hellfire Campaign.

"A haunted forest," he'd contemplated as he flipped through his Dungeon Master's Guide and wrote notes down. "No, an infected one." The Guide was carefully set on the table as he flipped through other books that he'd accumulated from library rummage sales and the second hand bookstore he favored in Indy.

He always liked to add some personal elements to the adventures and not go strictly by-the-book.

So from his pencil, an army of new creatures were born.

An old tree that housed a mimic-like creature.

A burrowing worm with hundreds of teeth that he affectionately nicknamed "Mouthy."

A moldy mushroom creature that released hypnotic spores.

And the crowning jewel...the boss...part human...part something else...with vines and a sharp-toothed grin and...

He scratched out a rough shape of the creature in the margins of his notebook and then squinted.

Now Eddie wasn't the best artist, but he could get by. Even to the untrained eye, his boss monster looked a little too much like Poison Ivy than he was comfortable with.

Those nerds would sniff him out immediately.

"Ok," his head tilted to the side, tongue sliding along the seam of his lips as he furiously erased parts of the figure. "Maybe...less boobs."

But the boobs were the best part.

"Boobs that...open up and turn into mouths?" He contemplated and then nodded and scribbled. "Venus flytrap boobs...yeah yeah yeah."

He snorted thinking of this boss seducing one of the players only for them to get their hands bitten off when they'd try to cop a feel. Some Botanical Femme Fatale.

"It'll serve them right," he snorted.

Even though he was sure, if he was in their position, he'd do the same.

"Alright, what else?"

And that was where he worked himself into a predicament.

Time was spent perfecting the Boss' body with all sorts of tentacles and teeth and dips and curves--

Not to mention all the ways that a player might be lured into the temptation of said Boss.

--and before long Eddie was well and truly fucked.

Well, more accurately, he wasn't fucked.

Nor would he be.

Because here he was, 9pm on a Saturday, dateless, with a drawing of a gorgeous, giant, monster woman...and a stiffy that he just couldn't ignore anymore.

"Damn," he sighed and leaned back, eyes clenching shut as he realized just how hard he was and just how much it ached just to sit there.

It was the best case scenario though: he had the trailer to himself, didn’t need to keep quiet or crank one out in the shower. He could take his time and savor the act.

Savor the fruits of his rogue imagination.

And he was at a bit of a standstill thinking about the mechanisms of his boss…what better way to figure out the ins and outs and what made it tick?

Before long he found himself in bed, propped up by pillows, jeans and boxers around his knees—he hadn’t been patient enough to fully undress—as he licked his Ticonderoga-and-big-pink-eraser-tainted palm in the absence of any other lubricant.

“Sometimes,” he hissed and let his eyes fall shut as he finally took his cock in his hand and squeezed. Delicious. “You just gotta go for old faithful.”

He treated himself to a few tentative strokes as he imagined himself in his foe’s forest.

His boots sloughed through the muck, clothes smattered with gore and remnants of spores and tar-like blood. He spotted her in the distance…draped in sheer fabrics that refracted the light like dew-covered cobwebs that stretched across the trees.

“Oh, that’s good,” he nodded and squeezed his shaft. If he got his players to focus on her clothes, her body…they wouldn’t be aware of her intentions.

He trudged across a vine-covered ground, the same vines that kept her tethered helpless to the trees. He called forth to assure that her rescue was imminent, but the more he closed the distance, the harder it got to navigate. Until he came to a halt right in front of her…

“Uh-huh.”

He pumped his fist.

…Against his will…

“Yeah.”

And again.

…As the vines slithered around his ankles and up his legs, locking him in place.

While the hand around his shaft twisted and pumped--fingertips dancing lightly as he circled the head and then back down--he traced pathways up his thigh with the other. He played with variations in pressure, much like the vines would, alive and throbbing.

He considered, in a moment of clarity, if his players would be disturbed by the trap they were lured into.

Perhaps they’d find some concern if the vines reached their waists—he traced up the indent of his hipbone and along his happy trail—or if they would only try to slash their swords through the intruding organisms once they were at their throats—he gripped his own throat tightly for a second.

But his neediness took over once again and his free hand found its way back downward and he cupped his balls instead. Less of an unsettling tightness and more of a pleasurable one.

He made to free the damsel, hilt of his sword gripped masterfully—

He snorted at the joke, amused by himself even as he was jerking off.

—in his hand, ready to slash.

He felt himself close to his release and he immediately let up, not wanting to lose this moment yet--lose the feeling, lose the fantasy.

He let go of himself, cock flopping against his stomach, and he covered his eyes as he took a breath and brought himself back down to earth.

Is this where he would have his players roll for an attack? Or a spell? Roll perception? Would the damsel talk? Stop them from attacking? Would she lure them in that way?

"No physical attacks," he decided. "Only magic to repel the vines. And then she opens her mouth to thank them and her tongue...oh, fuck, her tongue..."

He couldn't get another word out as the images started up again in his head, and he quickly resumed his ministrations.

The boss approached him, motions smooth and unsettling, but her beauty belied the danger. Her mouth opened to offer her thanks...when her tongue slithered out of her mouth unnaturally and she licked along his jaw...

His fingers danced along the path the boss licked, along his jaw, down his neck. The hand around his dick became her hand. Or maybe a second tongue...could she have multiple mouths? Her boobs were already venus flytraps.

That would be a genius move, his boss not just one being, but made up of many in some sort of unholy amalgam. A hive mind, a swarm. Once you were in its clutches, it was too late.

"Perfect," he hissed, fingers trilling back and forth over his sensitive head, spreading precum and spit.

When he was well and truly trapped, she would bite him, paralyze him, render him helpless...

Eddie bit into the part of his free hand between his thumb and pointer finger. He whined and savored the feeling of his breath cascading over his skin, as he stroked harder and harder.

...and then she would feast. Pull flesh from his bones, take his blood, take his soul. Maybe in the feast he would become a part of her, absorbed into the swarm, no longer a man but a part of this thing. Part of this system that sought to consume him all along.

His breathing grew shallow as he chased the high of an orgasm, as his strokes got wild and fast and wickedly erratic. Eddie could hear the slapping of skin and his own breathing and the rush of his blood.

What a strange thing to think about...the pain of being consumed and the pleasure of consuming. Maybe at a certain point the boss monster has its own release--a puff of toxic spores and gunk--and he would feel it too, one with his undoing, one with the forest.

At that thought the pleasure hit him, soared through him, made his legs twitch and toes curl as he kept on stroking and squeezing through his release. His teeth sunk further into the flesh of his one hand as his hot cum coated the other. And his thighs and his belly. As he writhed against the pillows and sheets.

As he writhed against the vines and the moss on the ground, whatever was left of his body, as the vestiges of his mind became a part of the beast.

"Fuck," Eddie groaned as he loosened his jaw, now sore, and stared down at himself. One hand bitten and bruised, the other covered in his spunk.

But he knew he had to act fast as his mental clarity returned to him. With a singular focus, he got up from the bed and hobbled back out to the living room. He couldn't be bothered to fix his clothes or clean himself up otherwise he was gonna lose all of the ideas that had been drummed up in his fantasy.

He picked up his pencil and scribbled next to the sketch of his boss. Note after note after note, as quickly as he could.

Careful not to get any of his cum on anything.

His cum.

He hesitated and considered it. Considered the organic, unpredictable shape it made against his skin. And he was reminded of something else, something similar. White and pearlescent and a little bit otherworldly.

He flipped through the pages of the books he'd abandoned, until he reached it.

Gelatinous substance, amoeba and slime molds...it was perfect.

He narrated aloud as he wrote it down:

"This creature eats its prey and absorbs them, then excretes a euphoric release to continue the infection in the forest. Pwdre ser. The rot of stars."

[atearyamallari]

Bath, Bed, and Late Night Phone Calls

This is another entry for @tmnt-write-fight. Get attacked, @untitled-tmnt-blog! This was the prompt I had answered:

New dad Splinter is very unprepared but is trying the best he can.

Not a parent, but having worked closely with children, I can tell you that parenting is hard. Hope you all enjoy the story! (and if you're reading this, I recommend having tissues nearby)

Words: 3669

Rating: Gen

Tags: Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Minor Character Death, Bubble Bath, Sad Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Bittersweet.

Iteration: Rise of the TMNT

You can also check out the fic here on AO3!

Enjoy!

\\

Splinter looked at his sons as they cuddled on the couch together, watching one of his films. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best thing to show to children – violence toned down was still violence, after all – but he didn’t have any other movies for them. Besides, putting something on the TV was one of the only ways he could get all four of them to calm down and be quiet for longer than ten minutes. And the boys seemed to really enjoy this movie in particular; their jaws were slack, and their eyes twinkled with awe as they watched Lou Jitsu beat up a dozen bad guys on screen.

Little did they know that Lou Jitsu was standing nearby, and that he was going to pull the rug out from under them. He snatched up the remote with his tail and turned the TV off. “Alright, boys! It’s time for your bath!” he said.

The room grew to a near-deafening volume as all four of them started complaining at once. “But Papa, I don’t wanna take a bath!” Leo whined.

“No baths!” Mikey said.

“Yeah, we already had one,” Raph said. “We’re all clean.”

“No baths!”

“That was two days ago. You need to take another one today,” Splinter said.

“But we want to watch the movie!” Donnie said.

“No baths!”

Splinter’s sanity was slipping from him, like a balloon slipping from a child’s fingers and floating out of reach. “How about we take baths one at a time, and when you’re not being washed you can watch the movie?” he said, trying his best to refrain from yelling. “Does that sound good?”

Bargaining seemed to do the trick. “Yay! Movie time!” they yelled happily.

He turned the TV back on, and the projector hummed with life as it displayed their favorite movie once more. “Red, you will go first,” he said, setting the remote down.

“What? No fair!” he said. “Why do I have to go first?”

“Because I said so.” He grabbed his son by the wrist and tried to gently coax him off the couch.

“I don’t wanna take a bath!” Raph said. “I wanna stay here with my brothers!” He wormed his arm out of Splinter’s grasp, then retreated his head and limbs into his shell.

Normally, that level of stubbornness would have caused Splinter a headache, but thankfully, his son wasn’t smart enough to realize that hiding in his shell only made him easier to carry. Splinter picked him up off the couch and was immediately surprised by how heavy his Raph was. Five-year-olds were supposed to grow a lot, but it should have been illegal for him to grow this much. As he lugged Raphael away into the bathroom, he wondered how much longer he would be able to carry him before he grew too big.

Their bathroom was barely larger than a closet, but it was the only room in the sewer drainage junction that they had come to call home which had spigots to draw water from. A wooden barrel that had been sawed in half functioned as their bathtub, and Splinter had added shelves to the walls to hold soap and towels. As he gently set Raph down into the tub, he realized that his son was almost too big for it now. Another reason why it should have been illegal for him to grow as fast as he did.

Splinter connected a garden hose to a faucet in the walls and turned the valve handle. Water gushed out, brown and murky at first, but eventually it ran clear. Splinter aimed the hose into the bathtub and began filling it. Curious, little Raph peeked his head out from his shell, then his legs, then his arms. A smile slowly crept onto his face as he began to splash around.

“Are you having fun?” Splinter asked, amused.

“Yeah!” Raph said. He slammed his arms into the water, making giant splashes.

“Careful! You’re gonna get water everywhere,” Splinter said. He turned off the faucet, grabbed some liquid soap from one of the shelves and began pouring it into the bath. Mountains of bubbles grew in the tub, much to Raph’s delight.

“Look, Daddy!” Raph said, scooping bubbles with his hands and smearing them on top of his head. “I’m Lou Jitsu!”

Laughing, Splinter took off his red bandana, then scooped up some more bubbles and added them to his son’s head. “You look just like him!” he said.

He spent the next couple of minutes scrubbing him down with a sponge. Halfway through the bath, Raph had managed to splash all the water out of the tub, forcing Splinter to fill it up again. But before long, he had Raph wrapped up in a fuzzy red towel. “Daddy’s gonna get you all dried up,” he said.

Somewhere in another room, glass shattered. Splinter’s heart dropped as soon as he heard the sound. “Never mind. You’re old enough to do this yourself, right?” he said to Raph. Then he bolted out of the bathroom.

Leo and Mikey were standing in the middle of the TV room, looking down at the mess they had made. Between the two of them was a football, a lamp shade, and a pile of broken ceramic. “Did you two just break our brand-new lamp?” Splinter said, aghast.

The boys pointed their fingers at each other. “He did it!” they said simultaneously.

Like the rest of their furniture, the lamp had been salvaged from a dumpster, but it was one of the nicer appliances that Splinter had added to their home. “That’s it! Leonardo, Michelangelo, you’re both in trouble,” he yelled. “No more playing football in the lair.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Leo mumbled.

“S-sorry, P-papa” Mikey said, bursting into tears.

Seeing his son crying caused his chest to tighten with pity. Still, pity wasn’t going to clean up the mess. Splinter picked up the football and carefully plucked out the ceramic shards before placing it on the very top of the do-not-touch cabinet he had in the TV room. Then he carefully swept up the broken pieces before his sons could cut their toes on them. By the time he was done, Mikey had stopped crying but was still sulking where he stood.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Splinter said, picking him up. “But I need you to be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt. Now, let’s get you back on the couch.” He fluffed up the cushions with one hand before setting him down, then turned to Leo. “Come, Blue. It’s time for your bath now.”

“Okay,” Leo said in a whiny tone.

Taking his hand, Splinter led him to the bathroom. All the while, a nagging feeling ate away at him, telling him that something was wrong. It wasn’t until they had nearly left the TV room that he realized what it was. “Where’s Purple?” he asked Leo. He asked as calmly as possible, but his heart only pounded faster when he remembered that he hadn’t seen Donnie since he took Raph’s bath.

Leo silently pointed behind him. Splinter turned to find Donnie standing just a few feet away, dragging a bucket by the handle. “I’m right here, Papa,” he said.

Crisis averted. Splinter let out a giant sigh of relief. “Donatello, go watch the movie with your brother,” he said.

“Actually, I want to take a bath now,” Donnie said.

“But Daddy said that it’s my turn for bathtime,” Leo said.

“You boys can have a bath at the same time,” Splinter suggested. Thankfully, the two of them were small enough that they could both fit in the tub.

Leo took Donnie’s free hand and together they walked into the bathroom. Raph was standing where Splinter had left him, swaddled in the towel. It was obvious that he hadn’t done anything to dry himself off, however, since water was still dripping from his shell, and he was now shivering. Splinter helped Leo and Donnie into the bathtub, then finished drying Raph off while the bath filled with water. Eventually, he let Raph scamper back into the TV room and turned his attention back to Leo and Donnie.

Donnie was floating his bucket in the bathtub. Lately, he had picked up the habit of walking everywhere with it and often filled it with little trinkets he found around the house. “What do you have in your bucket, Purple?” Splinter asked as he gently took off his bandana.

Silently, Donnie reached into the bucket and pulled out a spoon, then let it drop into the water. Then he drew a second spoon from the bucket, and a third, dropping each of them into the bath. Although this probably wasn’t normal behavior for a child, this didn’t surprise Splinter at all. Donnie, for some reason, had an interest in shiny metal objects. What did surprise him, however, was the next few items that Donnie pulled out from his bucket. They were metal rods shaped like the letter C, and for some reason Splinter had the feeling that he had seen them somewhere before. It wasn’t until Donnie had dropped the fourth one into the bathtub that he realized that they were the handles of the kitchen drawers. “What –? How did you get the handles off?” he asked incredulously.

“With a screwdriver,” Donnie said, beaming.

If any of his other sons had done this, Splinter would have been concerned. But Donnie had always been a little too smart for his own good. Splinter tiredly dragged one of his hands over his face. Considering that his four-year-old son was able to remove the handles, it should be easy for him to place them back on. “What else do you have in the bucket?” he asked.

“A toaster!” he said, pulling one out.

“No no no no no!” Splinter said, catching the toaster before his son could toss it into the bath like the rest of his trinkets. He set the toaster on one of the shelves, away from the water, then took the bucket out of the bathtub. “Let’s play with this later, okay?”

Like with Raph, Splinter scrubbed Donnie and Leo down with a sponge. It took a little longer than normal because whenever Donnie was distracted, he took the opportunity to reach into the bathtub and pull out the spoons and drawer handles. In a few minutes, however, he had them clean and swaddled in their favorite purple and blue towels. Once they had both dried off, he led them both to the TV room. “Orange, it’s your turn,” he called.

Raph sat on the couch watching the movie, but Mikey wasn’t with him. “Red, where is your brother?” he asked.

He shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve just been watching the movie.”

Splinter looked down at Donnie and Leo, as if they would have the answers, but they only shrugged in reply as well. This was just great. He should have known that it was getting too quiet around the lair. That’s what he got for teaching them basic ninja skills.

Leaving the rest of the boys in the TV room, Splinter walked around and called Mikey’s name. The longer time dragged on without a response, the more panic dug its claws into his chest. All the doors leading out of the sewers were child-proof, so there was no way Mikey could have left – but if he had managed to break through, then Splinter could only hope that his chubby toddler legs didn’t take him very far.

After calling his name for what felt like the hundredth time, Splinter finally heard a response. “Hi, Daddy!” came Mikey’s voice, bouncing across the walls of the atrium.

Splinter spun around wildly, trying to pinpoint where the sound had come from. Finally, his eyes rested on the sight of a little box turtle hanging from a pipe suspended ten feet off the ground. “Mikey!” he said, horrified. “Get down from there!”

“Okay!” Mikey said. He let go of the pipe.

“That’s not what I meant!” Splinter screamed. Adrenaline pumped through his body as his instincts took over. With a giant leap, he stretched out his hands and caught his son as he plummeted to the ground. He landed expertly, still holding onto Mikey.

“Yay! Do it again!” his son said.

“Nope! Not again!” Splinter said, nearly crying from sheer terror. “Bathtime only.”

Splinter gave Mikey his bath, and by the time he was done, exhaustion weighed down every bone in his body. He wasn’t the only one; little Mikey started nodding his head as Splinter dried him off and he seemed to struggle to keep his eyes open. It was a little early in the evening – but it was never too early for bedtime. Splinter picked up his son and carried him to his bedroom. Mikey was sound asleep before his head hit his pillow. Chuckling softly, Splinter knelt over him and kissed the top of his head before returning to the TV room.

Raph, Donnie, and Leo were all sound asleep, cuddled close together on the couch. Splinter grabbed the remote and lowered the volume to the movie, which still droned on in the background. One by one, he picked up Raph, then Donnie, and carried them to their beds, before tucking them in and kissing them good night. As he brought Leo to his bed, however, he began to stir. “Papa,” Leo murmured sleepily as Splinter lay him gently down on his pillow. “Can you tell me a bedtime story?”

“No, it’s time for you to sleep,” Splinter said.

“Please?”

Leo’s sleepy little eyes were simply too adorable to resist. “Okay,” Splinter said, sitting on the edge of his son’s bed. He racked his mind for a bedtime story until at last he remembered an old fairy tale from his childhood.

“Once upon a time there was a young fisherman named Urashima Tarō,” he began. “He lived with his mother and father in a humble village on the coast of a small island, and he was a good son who ate all his vegetables and didn’t complain about bathtime. One day, when he was walking along the beach, he came across a group of children. As he drew closer, he saw that they were torturing a baby sea turtle who was stranded in the sand dunes. Feeling pity for the turtle, he drove the children away, then he carefully watched over it as it found its way to the surf and disappeared into the waves.”

“Those were some mean kids,” Leo mumbled.

“Yes, yes,” Splinter said. “Now don’t interrupt. Two days later, when he was fishing on his boat, a giant sea turtle swam up to him. It was no ordinary sea turtle, for it was the same one that he had rescued. And it could talk! The turtle thanked him for saving its life and offered to take him to Ryūgū-jō, the underwater palace of the Dragon God. Since Tarō was a human and could not breathe underwater, the turtle magically gave him gills, and since he was not a strong swimmer, the turtle let him ride on its shell until they came to a beautiful palace made of pearls at the bottom of the ocean.”

“Saving the turtle had made Tarō the hot-shot of the ocean. He got to meet all of the important people in Ryūgū-jō, like the emperor, and his princess daughter, Otohime. But as the days went by, he became homesick. He wanted to go back to the island to see his mother and father. Otohime was sad to see him go, but she gave him permission to return home and gave him a special box, a tamatebako, to keep him safe from harm. However, she gave him instructions to never open the box. Tarō took it with him and rode on the back of his sea turtle friend until he made it home.”

“When he came to his island home, he found that everything had changed. He couldn’t recognize any of the people there, and he couldn’t find his parents. Just when he thought he had traveled to the wrong island, some of the villagers told him that they knew where his mother and father were. They took him to a pair of graves at the edge of the village – his parent’s graves. Three hundred years had passed since he had disappeared at sea, and his parents were long gone. Distracted by the grief, Tarō opened the lid of the tamatebako. White smoke poured out, turning his hair silver and forming wrinkles in his skin. It was too late by the time that he realized that the box had held his old age.”

Leo’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was soft and even. Splinter gently cupped his son’s face in his hands, stroking the edge of his bright red stripes with his thumb, and leaned over to kiss the top of his head. Then he quietly got up and walked out of his room.

Now that his sons were asleep, the lair was completely still, but despite the peace and quiet Splinter found himself unable to relax. Today marked the third anniversary of their collective mutation – the boys mutating into giant sentient turtles, himself mutating into an ugly, oversized rat. His fur stood on end as horrible memories wormed their way into his mind. The glow of bright green ooze. The acrid stench of chemical fires burning in a crumbling lab. The ache in his bones as he transformed. The horrible, churning feeling in his gut when he realized that Draxum intended to turn innocent baby turtles into weapons of war.

After three years, that gut-churning feeling never really went away. He felt when he and his sons were on the run, living in the streets. He felt it the one time someone had caught a glimpse of him and his boys and screeched in horror. Even when their lives weren’t in immediate danger, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that he was doing this parenting stuff all wrong. He had rescued the boys from a soldier’s life, only to deliver them to a life in the sewers.

He couldn’t do this anymore – not alone, anyway. It was time to ask for some help, or at least some parenting advice. Splinter tip-toed to his room, grabbed an oversized hoodie, and slipped it on. Then he lifted his mattress and snatched up the loose change that he had hidden underneath. He counted the quarters, adding them up until he had nearly thirteen dollars. Enough to make an international call.

Quietly, he tiptoed out of his room and into one of the sewer tunnels that led to a maintenance shaft. He turned the door handle and heaved the giant vault-like door open before slipping through and shutting it behind him. When he reached the top of the maintenance shaft, he lifted the manhole cover and crawled out onto the street. Pulling his hood over his head, he headed east.

Two blocks later, he reached a row of payphones on the side of the road. He lifted one of the phones from its hook and inserted quarters into the coin slot before dialing the number. Although it had been over thirteen years since he had talked to his grandfather, he still remembered the number to his landline.

Splinter nervously twist the phone cord in between his fingers as the phone rang in his ear. Would his grandfather be happy to hear his voice, or disappointed that it took over thirteen years to reach out to him again? Would his grandfather even remember him? Was his Japanese still good enough to carry a conversation? Part of him was tempted to save himself the shame and hang up so that he could get his money back. Clutching the phone tighter, he forced himself to stay on the line. This was for his sons, he reminded himself.

The line clicked as someone picked up the phone on the other end. “Jiji! It’s me, Yoshi,” Splinter said. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you sooner. I need help –”

“I’m sorry, who did you say you were?”

“Yoshi. Hamato Yoshi,” he answered. His stomach twisted when he realized he didn’t recognize the voice on the other end.

“I think you have the wrong number.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to bother you. I was just trying to call my grandpa, Hamato Sho.”

“Hamato Sho,” repeated the stranger on the other end. “I recognize that name. I think he was the previous occupant of the house I am living in now.”

If the stranger knew his grandfather, then he still had hope of reaching him. “Do you know where he lives now? Or what his new phone number is?”

The stranger paused. “Listen, I know this won’t be what you wanted to hear but… Hamato Sho passed away five years ago.”

A tear slipped down Splinter’s face. “Oh,” he choked out.

“Yeah. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

His chest tightened as a sob threatened to escape his throat. “It’s okay,” he said. “Thank you for your time.” With shaky hands, he put the phone back up on the hook.

Splinter’s legs felt heavy the entire walk back to the sewers. Tears streaked down his face now as he allowed himself to cry. His jiji was long gone, and he never got the chance to properly say goodbye. He never even apologized for the way he had left things between them. There was no one left of his family now.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Splinter had four sons now – four rambunctious, troublemaking, sweet turtle sons. When he returned to the lair, it was still quiet and peaceful. In the morning, it would be loud and chaotic as they woke up. But for now, they were asleep in their rooms, perhaps having pleasant dreams about what the next day would bring. Splinter crawled into bed, still wondering if he was raising his sons right. But no matter what, he was going to try.

[st-danger]

Saint.

Saint my beautiful, wonderful friend.

A thought. A prompt, even.

Dew in the middle of a quintessence sandwich. Aether teaching Aeon how to use his magick in all the ways Dew likes best. Showing him where and how to touch, what to say. How to manipulate his little body and worm his way into his mind. Just really fuckin' him up.

How do you think that would go?

Aether holds Dew tight against his chest, noses against his hairline and breathes his scent in while Dew moans, hips twitching and forcing his cock further into Aeon's mouth. The heat pouring off of him speaks to how worked up they have him. Jerky movements, unconscious, just an innate need to demand more. More lips around him, more tongue wiggling on the underside. Farther in. Too far, this time, and Aeon pulls off, sputtering and coughing.

"Sorry," Dew says, but doesn't sound particularly sorry to Aether at all.

Aeon recovers and seems unruffled, wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand, smiling up at Aether. At Dew, too, of course, but it's not meant for him. If only he knew that.

"Didn't you say you wanted to show me a little something?" Aeon wiggles his fingers and Dew goes still. Against his neck, Aether places a wet, sucking kiss.

"Okay?" he whispers against Dew's skin, fingertips stroking over his temple, down the side of his face. "Cool if we play?"

Dew chokes out a yes, and Aether takes a slow, deep breath and bleeds magick into him, tangling himself between every neuron in his brain.

"Touch him," Aether says, "and focus on finding me."

Aeon scrambles to sit up, cock bobbing while he does, and presses a palm to Dew's belly. Right to his core. With a deep breath in, and a slow breath out, Aeon grins, and Dew whimpers suddenly.

"Feel that?" Aether asks.

"You feel, like, electric," Aeon says, looking past Dew to meet Aether's lavender gaze. He looks so curious, so intrigued, crooked grin exaggerating the fold from the corner of his mouth to his nose. "Can you feel that?" he says to Dew.

"Yeah," Dew breathes, nodding, stomach trembling under Aeon's palm. Aethers fingers stroke against the side of his face again, and Dew whimpers, clutching frantically at the arm Aether keeps wrapped around his chest. "Makes everything feel- oh, like a lot."

"That's what I want you to try," Aether tells Aeon. "Take a deep breath and play around with the levels. As it were."

Aeon closes his eyes and when he breathes out, pushes a rush of quintessence into Dew, focuses on making everything but pleasure go silent and Dew cries out, sudden and panicked-

He's shooting all over his stomach, all over Aeon's hand, cock wagging around wildly as it spits. Knees drawing up. Aether has to laugh.

"Little much right out of the gate," he says, and Aeon looks as sorry as Dew had sounded earlier.

"Unholy shit," Aeon laughs, and ignores Dew's protests when he starts rubbing his cum all over his stomach, smearing it around. Gross. Filthy.

"Try easing into it," Aether suggests. "Give him just a hint. "

Dew's not even caught his breath, but Aeon is inside every nerve, alongside Aether, and he forces another, gentler wave of pleasure from him. His cock hasn't even had time to go soft, and it twitches while Aeon lets himself inside of the very fibre of Dew's being.

"You can just keep him like this?" Aeon asks, unable to resist getting a hand on his swollen cock. Needs to give it a nice squeeze, get some relief.

"Like what?" Aether asks, tone pleasant and conversational. Talking about Dew like he isn't there to hear him. A little more and they could make him mindless. "Cumming? Or on edge?"

"Both, I guess," Aeon says, and the tip of his tongue pokes out while he concentrates again, feeling around Dew, feeling for Aether.

"Follow my lead," Aether says.

It's interesting, watching Aeon figure it all out. It isn't like he's new to this, but this particular application certainly is unfamiliar. Like with most things, he's a quick learned with this, too, and he and Aether coordinate until they find themselves in a push-pull of forcing pleasure into him, and then easing off.

It goes on for a very, very long while.

Aether is so hard he knows he's staining his underwear. Dew gasps every time, writhes with it, squirms and moves his legs so much he accidentally kicks Aeon.

"Probably deserved that," Aeon laughs.

"Sit still," Aether admonishes.

"Cant," Dew whines. His hairline is damp with sweat. His back is wet where it meets Aether's chest. "Oh, fuck, can't- make me cum again, oh, I need to-"

"Next lesson," Aether says, and waits for Aeon's focus to come back to him, and then Dew goes limp.

Aeon's eyes go as wide as Dewdrop’s do.

"What," he whispers, "was that?"

"Now he'll stay still," Aether says, reasonably. In his arms, Dew begins to shiver, his cock wet and drooling.

"Fuck, Aether, Aeon, please," he warbles.

"You paralyze him?"

"Essentially," Aether nods, and nuzzles into Dew's neck again, to speak against his skin when he says, "he likes feeling helpless. Don't you?"

"Touch me," Dew moans, clutching at Aether and blinking up at Aeon through lashes that he hopes will clump with tears before too long.

"That it?" Aeon asks Dew, elated and unable to get his hand off himself. "You wanna lie here and be used?"

The answering moan says it all.

"Go on," Aether encourages him, fingertips still rubbing against Dew's temple. "Play around. He likes it when hes out of control." Aeon places his hands on Dew's knees, and spreads them apart. There's no resistance. Despite knowing that, actually watching it is something else entirely, and the visual has Aether biting the side of his tongue.

He moves him like he's a doll.

Aeon sucks on his index finger, and they watch as he reaches and-

Dew moans as Aeon rubs at his hole, claws digging into Aether's arm.

"Yeah?" Aeon asks, eyebrow quirked. "Sensitive there, aren't you?"

"Fuck off," Dew snaps.

"You can keep him from talking, if you want," Aether suggests, and Dew makes a noise of dissent that he and Aeon ignore. Aeon looks deep in concentration while he pushes his finger in and out the smallest bit, but it's got Dew's face bright red.

"What can I do to him?" Aeon asks Aether. Not Dew; he asks Aether. It's been so long since he's had another ghoul with the same magick skillset to play with, and he's missed it more than he wants to admit.

"A lot of things," Aether says, drawing his tongue up the shell of Dew's ear and forcing another moan from him. "Whaddya have in mind?"

Aeon leans in and kisses Dew, a quick pluck of his mouth, followed by licking a stripe up the side of his face, forcing Dew to cringe.

"Aw," Aeon says, patronizing. He gives him another quick kiss, and rubs his nose against Dew's, affectionate.

"Aeon," Dew says weakly. "It's so much, both of you-"

"I want him to struggle," Aeon says. "I like it when they fight." He kisses the tip of Dew's nose. "It's cute."

[germesthegenie]

Brief Respite At The End Of The World

Little doodle that I imagine takes place some time either during Arc 29 or after Arc 30. Wanted to do a quick drawing of this ship that for some reason lives rent free in my brain (Does it even have, like, a ship name? If there isn’t I think either Gauntlet or Handcuff could work for if I ever need to tag it but idk)

Way Too Much Yapping about a relationship between two tertiary characters below:

Part of the reason I like this ship is because these two were surprise favorites in the latter half of Worm, and I thought the mentions of them getting together in Arc 26 and 29 were cute. Though thinking a lot on the two characters (and probably a good bit of headcanon tbh), I started to appreciate it a lot more.

For Theo’s end of things, he’s always been burdened by expectations. His father tried to mold him into the next leader of the E88 from a young age, but Theo pushed back against that, instead wanting to be a hero. And then he got that, and a lot more than he asked for, accidentally becoming essentially a hero of prophecy thanks to Jack’s promise. Suddenly he wasn’t just a hero, he had to be *the* hero, live up to impossible expectations and save the world. And he was treated based on those expectations. His friendship with Weaver was pretty much based on the fact Taylor had to train him, try to make him the guy who could defeat Jack Slash. And then he failed, just barely missing the mark, and those expectations came crashing down around him. He distances himself from his team, and is mostly sulking in the background for the opening acts of Gold Morning, though one person does make an effort to reach out to him.

Aside from maybe Purity (who has her own set of issues), Ava is one of the few people in Theo’s life who likes and cares about who he is, not who he could be. And at his lowest point, where he feels he failed everyone, she’s trying to do what she can to help him recover and see he’s not a failure. And she does succeed eventually, as we see him up to fight a couple chapters later in the arc.

(Also it’s really funny and sweet that the meek girl from Arc 24 was able to almost convince Taylor “You can’t tell me what to do” Hebert to drop everything and talk to Golem, made a doodle of it a while back)

On Ava’s side of things, there’s admittedly not nearly as much to glean from just her characterization in the text alone. Like I said, she’s one of the few who appreciates Theo for who he is, regardless of expectations put on him by others. Their stories aren’t so different, only that her nemesis of sorts (Behemoth) was killed just as she was starting out. And after that fight she’s terrified, choosing not to attend the Khonsu fight. But Theo keeps pushing himself, trains knowing he’ll have to fight things that are arguably worse than the Endbringers when it comes to pain and fates worse than death. I like to think his inspiration is what led to the much more confident Cuff we see after the timeskip (though the Taylor Hebert Bootcamp probably also helped there). The main other thing we know is she had a previous boyfriend who she broke up with due to the pressures Weaver put the Chicago Wards under (which is probably a whole separate post to get into). So maybe their relationship is something that lets them both have a sense of normalcy in the insanity that is late Worm.

Or, you know, maybe I’m reading way too much into my two blorbos whose relationship gets like 5 lines of canon mention and 1 fanfic that I know of (shoutout again to Chartic, Off the Cuff is like a third of the reason I like this ship so much) and this is the best way I could put together why short of writing a fanfic myself (I might ngl but I do not have time atm)

[ewingstan]

So one of Ward's main themes has been asking what's needed to change as a person. Its the whole setup for Breakthrough: People who've done horrible things trying to become better. There's been lots of sub-themes within that—accountability, punishment and repentance, separating yourself from your past. There's been a constant counter to it, with most of the foils or antagonistic forces expressing the idea that you can't get better and might as well let yourself get worse. Lisa does this through her pessimism about things getting better. A lot of the minor career villains have represented it through their willingness to "be more brutal" rather than stick to the old rules we're pretending anyone followed. Cradle represented it through how he blamed Rain for not letting him stay good, and before that the rest of the cluster represented it through blaming Rain for their own bloodthirstiness via bleedthrough. "This isn't my fault, the world is making me bad" has repeatedly been positioned as the obstacle to "Regardless of why I did wrong before, I can put in work to get better."

I do think that "others are too quick to judge agents for reacting to bad circumstances imperfectly" is a bigger problem then "people are too willing to blame their circumstances for their behavior." Mostly because those unfair judgements of moral character has been the justification for uncountable cruel punishments throughout history, lead to untold people being paralyzed by the fear of Hell, lead to children being treated like they needed evil beaten out of them and convicts being treated like they're being disrespectful for daring to continue drawing breath. It can be hard for me to overcome my gut reaction towards anything that seems to be arguing for moral responsibility, because I genuinely think our ethical systems would be better without that concept being included.

But, that's not quite what Ward is doing, at least not when its at its best. "You need to take responsibility" in the sense of recognizing that you could act differently in the future is, strictly speaking, different from "you need to be held responsible" in the sense I find harmful. So as far as central themes go, its not bad. I have resistances to finding it astounding, but it's not an inherently terrible angle or anything.

That said, Ward has framed the opposing theme in counterproductive ways. While "the world wouldn't let me change" can work as a good beat, its not something that people are consciously thinking and being motivated by. We can talk about "they thought I was a monster, so they stripped me of all means to live honestly, so I had to live as a monster" or even "they thought I was a monster, so none would speak with me except others they considered monsters, and we made each other our worst selves," but in neither of those cases is the character's actions driven by their own belief that people wont let them be good—its driven by the actual external circumstances of how people treat them and restrict opportunities. So the way Cradle suddenly starts behaving horribly, not because others are treating him in ways that affect his material circumstances, but because of his reaction to the cluster bleedthrough—it just feels mistaken to even invoke "you made me a monster" as a trope. It doesn't work as a critique of pushing the blame for your actions onto others, because Cradle's reasoning for pushing the blame onto others feels written as an afterthought.

My problem with how this is treated in Amy are related, but not identical. A few chapter's ago, Amy complained about the world not letting her change. I don't think it made much sense for her, not only because her becoming someone who externalizes her issues feels like an unsatisfying direction for her after Worm, but more directly because it doesn't make sense in the context she's in. And sure, she's someone who makes poorly thought-out excuses for herself, so I'm not gonna ding the writing for that. It just feels like it makes more sense as just a parroting of what some commenters have said about Victoria and Amy, rather than something that Amy would herself think.

The same thing seems true for the above passages. A lot of things that readers have said about Amy are now being said, by Amy. Amy is of course voicing the rhetorically worst possible version of those claims, but I think the interesting thing is that the context Amy's saying it is the main thing making it reprehensible. Because as much as Amy is repeating the thin substance of what some readers have argued, fans arguing with other fans that "you shouldn't hate this character because X," is just substantially different than a rapist telling her victim "you shouldn't hate me because of X." Even if the strict words spoken were the same, they aren't at all the same claim, because one is what the audience should feel and the other is how Victoria should feel.

You could argue against this by saying "if its right for Victoria to hate Amy, its right for the audience to hate Amy, because hate is right when it reflects an accurate judgement of someone's moral character." I won't pretend that conception of justified hate isn't somewhat widespread, but I don't think it stands up to scrutiny. Especially not applied to fictional characters.

[pinkbubbles06]

Rosekiller Headcannons:

Pt. 2

Pt. 1

Some of these are my own and others are ones I agree with so if some seem familiar that’s why lol. Enjoy!!!!!! Gosh I love them so much. I need like a semi canonical fic of them stat.

* I like to think that Barty was the sweetest of souls when he was younger, but the constant abuse from his father and the cold world damaged him a lot. He also is bipolar so ya know…. Uhhh… yeah…😅

* Barty has long and slender fingers and it would always drive Evan nuts when Barty would wear rings on his hands and nervously play with them

* Barty also developed a tick/constant habit of darting hit tongue out of his mouth to wet his lips. Evan never learned why he did it but found it oddly endearing.

* I feel like Barty couldn't fall asleep without like a million pillows. Unless he had Evan. He would have the best sleep of his life when he slept with Evan.

* Barty will Call Evan Dimples

* The Infamous Three™ know French so they talk in it when they want to say shit about other people.

Evan knows German but rarely uses it.

Barty knows Italian and oh boy, his Italian. Evan got so hard the first time Barty started talking in Italian that he thought he was going to cream his pants. Barty talks in Italian when he drinks which is Evan's worst nightmare since Barty becomes even more flirty when drunk. Every time Barty calls him "mio amato" (my beloved), Evan MELTS (he stills swears he is straight™ and not completely in love with Barty).

When Barty wants to talk about Evan without being pried on, he talks on Italian. Reg knows Spanish and they make it work.

* Barty is Scottish and Evan is French.

* Barty picked up a bunch of languages by the age of 15 because his father decided it was mandatory for his son. (Crouch Sr. canonically knows around 200 languages)

* barty loves the snow. he could spend hours out in the cold without a warming charm if it weren't for his friends getting onto him about him possibly getting sick. he loves sledding down the hills at hogwarts, racing his friends to see who wins. he always does. he also likes snowball fights, building a snowman, and making snow angels. it was something him and his mother cherished so he likes to bask in those precious memories when he can.

* conversely, evan hates snow. his faces crinkles up at the sight of it. he makes sure he bundles himself up and uses warming charms as much as he can. most of the time he sits watching his friends enjoy the snow, throwing snowballs at each other. then barty just shows up with that damned smile of his, his eyes full of wonder at the snow falling down. barty will shoot him a grin just before he throws a snowball. sure, evan hates the snow, but he does genuinely appreciate how happy it makes his boyfriend.

* it is a matter of fact that Barty and Evan spoiled each other constantly, with materialistic things or with kisses and hugs.

* Evan’s birthday is June 20th

* Barty loved to doodle. He would sometimes just grab a marker or something and gently and carefully draw on Evan’s hands or arms. Whichever was easiest to doodle on at the time.

* Barty is secretly a book worm and could talk for days on end to Evan about what he reads.

* Evan isn't much of a reader but he will read anything if Barty suggests it to him, because he absolutely loves seeing him ramble. Barty will also annotate books for him when he borrows them. Don’t get him started on the love poems.

* Barty is so smart. But like in the doesn't need to try smart - tests come easy to him sort of smart

* Evan is completely and totally scared of all bugs ever, and he has to get reg or barty to kill them when they get into the dorm. Barty will sometimes terrorize him by bring the bug really close to him in his hand. Evan screams bloody murder every time. Barty gets such a kick out of it lol.

* When someone asks Barty if he wants something to eat, he’ll say ‘you’ in a deadpan tone (mainly to Evan)

* Evan is possessive as fuck, he will actually glare anyone down that even looks in Barty's direction and will proceed to plan a murder.

* Evan was just a little bit more unhinged than Barty was at Hogwarts. But after school, and after he was a legal adult, Barty let loose and they were both unhinged together!!😁

* Barty and Evan share beds a ton, and the first time it happened was because Barty was having a hard day and Evan snuck in and held him through the night,

* Barty also has nightmares and instinctively looks for evan when he wakes up; Evan is always there

* Barty secretly proposed to Evan when they were 16. No one knew about it. Ever. And no one could ever tell because they almost always both wore rings. So they were engaged until Evan died, because they never got to get married because of all the “no gay marriage!!” In the 70s/80s

* I like to think Barty fell first but when Evan fell for him too Barry’s love grew deeper once he had him. So basically he fell first and he also fell harder.

* Barty never holds people's hands, he just wraps his fingers around their wrist. Friends or Lovers.

Evan has no idea why, maybe it's a preference or something?

Barty actually does it to check if the person he's with has a pulse and is real, a small reassurance for his anxiety

* evan has blue eyes, and barty collects sea rocks or flowers when they match the color perfectly. He’s kinda like a crow that way. He will find things that remind him of Evan, or that make him think of him, and he will give them to Evan. He keeps every single one.

* Barty has deep emerald green eyes.

* Evan adores it when Barty runs his fingers through his hair. He gets shivers down his spine every time.

* They both actively tried to summon ghosts

* Evan has like really bad circulation so he's like ALWAYS cold. And Barty is always a furnace

* Barty would often just bite Evan’s shoulder. Evan eventually go a tattoo of Barry’s bite marks on his left shoulder.

* Harley Quinn and Barty Crouch Jr. are interchangeable and you cannot convince me otherwise.

* Like, “what’s that I should kill everyone and escape? oh sorry, it’s the voices… I’m kidding!!! that’s not what they actually said.”

* Evan would often put his hand on Barry’s throat and Barty lived for every second of it. The Horny Bastard.

* I just know that Barty and Evan had so many dramatic break ups over the pettiest things

* They did it so they could have hate sex🤣🤣

* Barty would always tell Evan that he hopes that he would die first. He always said he never wanted to live in a world where Evan wasn’t in it….

* The skittles(Barty, Evan, Reggie, Panda, and Dorcas) all made an unbreakable vow that only death would do them part… and it did…

* Everyone thinks that they can’t stand each other when in public, but alone, or just with their friends, they are literally unbearable

* Evan wears baggy clothes and Barty wears tight clothes. Fight me on this.

* Also Evan has the sluttiest waist known to mankind.

* The fist Slytherin party that Evan actually danced at, he was so insecure. So Barty convinced him that no one was looking at Evan and that they were just looking at Barty. And after a few drinks, Barty had convinced Evan of that and he just let lose. And holy shit were they hot together. Kinda like the song by Sabrina carpenter if u know what I mean….

* Like, Barty would say “They aren’t even looking at you Ev, they’re looking at me.” Then Evan would say, “But I don’t want them to look at you Barty.”

* Evan took his shirt off a few times at a couple of party’s and literally all eyes were on him but he didn’t care cus Barty was there, Hands tightly secured to his waist and glaring at anyone who even glanced at Evan.

* Barty is a pyromaniac, and when that happens only Dorcas and Pandora can settle it. Evan can too but he usually just enables him🤣

* When Evan goes missing it doesn’t take Barty long to figure out he is dead. It totally sent him off the deep end and caused him to put all of his devotion into the only thing he had left, Voldemort.

* Also, once he found out Evan was dead he went straight to Pandora. She was the only one of their friends would would even think about talking to him. He was miserable, he wouldnt leave his room at Pandoras house for days.

* I am also completely convinced that Bartemius Crouch Sr had Evan assassinated after he found out about him and Barty.

* Like you know how canonically moody was trying to take him prisoner, but Evan was fighting so damn hard that Moody had to kill him. I think that was his order along. You can’t convince me otherwise. that is what happened.

* When he is posing as Moody, Barty finds out about this and kills his dad because of it. And also because of the god awful abuse. Duh.🙄

* Also, a little before torturing Alice and Frank Longbottom, Barty tried to obliviate himself so he would just forget Evan and Regulus because the pain of losing them was too much. In his attempt, because his emotions were so high, he messed it up and he went insane. This also caused him to hallucinate Evan and Regulus. The hallucinations of them were the ones who convinced him that Alice and Frank killed Evan. (Barty already knew how Regulus died.)

* Regulus told Kreature to tell Evan and Barty how he died, knowing they would keep his secret. And they did until they died.

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

Chapter 39: Fog of Zou and Forbidden Whispers

The first gif because Robin be saying the most out of pocket thing when it was the Zou arc LMFAOO

And this one because the reaction LMFAOOO

A/N: And we are back at it again with another chapter!, thank you guys do much for liking, reblogging, sharing and commenting on these chapters! Starting on chapter 42 its officially the start to whole cake island arc!” I am still working on the bonus chapter for Doflamingo in there. It’ll say chapter 41.5 Bonus Chapter. Each bonus chapter will be a .5 and say Bonus chapter so that way it’ll be easier. I might do color coordinating for the chapters when I go on my master list so that way the different arcs are highlighted. We get a slight confession by Zoro in the end… but all is fair in love and war ;). Now with out further ado, let the adventure begin!

Word Count: 14K

Sanji x Reader, Sanji X Y/N, One piece X Reader 

Y/N POV…

"Are we all ready?" I called out, making my way down the steps. My sword was secured on my back, and the two blades King had given me were strapped snugly to my thighs. As I descended, I felt the weight of everyone's eyes on me. Zoro let out a low whistle, his gaze trailing up and down.

“My, my,” he muttered as he stepped closer, his hand finding its way to my hip, casually flipping my hair over my shoulder with a playful smirk. “Looks to me like you’ve healed up nicely.”

I shot him a smirk of my own, confidence swelling in my chest. “Well, I need to make sure I’m at my best.” My hand instinctively went to the hilt of my sword. “Especially since this Vinsmoke guy has an ass-kicking coming his way after pulling that stunt on my wanted poster.”

Before Zoro could respond, Kinemon’s voice interrupted. “Sir Law! There you are! Where have you been?”

Law’s gaze was still locked on me, a lingering look of desire flickering in his eyes from our earlier moment. I smirked knowingly. “It’s alright, Kinemon. He was probably just checking his vivre card, making sure his crew is still safe.”

Kinemon nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Alright, let’s catch up to them!” Luffy exclaimed, brimming with excitement.

“Be careful out there!” Usopp called, already inching away from the group.

“Oh no, you're coming too!” I said, pulling him back. Zoro added a playful smack to the back of Usopp’s head.

Kanjuro stepped forward, beginning to sketch what appeared to be... something. "Is that a worm?" Robin asked, tilting her head.

“No, it looks like a fish?” I said, narrowing my eyes at the drawing.

“It’s got legs, Y/N. I’d say it’s a lizard,” Franky added with a shrug.

“What is it though?” Luffy asked, confused.

“It’s a snake, I told you!” Usopp interjected confidently.

“A snake, you say?” Kinemon echoed.

Kanjuro pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before exclaiming, “Appear, rising dragon!” Suddenly, the drawing came to life.

“No way!” Luffy shouted in amazement.

I couldn’t help but question the creature. “Is that dragon okay?”

“Unleash your might, dragon!” Kanjuro urged, but the dragon looked anything but mighty.

“Whimpy or not, if it can fly, it’ll make things easier,” Usopp muttered.

“Make haste, everyone! Climb upon it so that it may carry us,” Kanjuro announced.

“So it can fly!” Usopp said with a bit more enthusiasm. One by one, we climbed onto the dragon. As I was about to get on, Zoro lifted me up effortlessly and placed me in front of him.

“Really, Zoro?” I said, raising a brow.

“Gotta make sure you’re secured,” he teased, his grip tightening slightly around my waist, a flirtatious reminder of how he held me back in Dressrosa when we rode the bull.

Before I could respond, I felt a sudden shift. In the blink of an eye, Law’s Room technique activated, and suddenly, Zoro was switched with Law, who was now behind me, his chest pressing lightly against my back.

I glanced over my shoulder, catching Law’s smirk as he leaned in slightly. “Looks like I’m the one keeping you secure now.” His voice was low, sending a shiver down my spine.

Zoro let out a frustrated sigh. "Tch, damn room technique..."

As we continued to travel up the elephant's leg, the drawing Kanjuro drew was having a difficult time pulling all of us up. "You can do it, big guy!" Luffy shouted encouragingly.

"How long is it?" Usopp asked, looking up at the towering elephant. His voice wavered with nervousness.

"Hey, Luffy! Your biggest fans have something to say!" Franky called, glancing back to see Bartolomeo and his crew, who were in tears.

"Oh yeah! I forgot to thank them for everything!" Luffy exclaimed, turning toward them. "Hey, Lomeo, thanks for bringing us here! You and your crew were a huge help!" Luffy yelled, waving energetically.

"Please take care, Mr. Luffy!" Bartolomeo yelled back, tears streaming down his face.

"Same to you! Be careful, and see you later!" Luffy waved one last time as we continued to ride the dragon, now climbing higher along the elephant's leg.

"We're so high!" Usopp groaned, clutching the dragon tightly. "I can't take this!"

Suddenly, the dragon started to slip, its grip faltering as it tried to maintain its balance. Instinctively, I tightened my grip, my heart racing. Law's hand moved to my waist, steadying me, and I gasped softly at the sudden contact. His fingers tightened slightly, the warmth of his touch grounding me.

I turned to look at him, catching his intense gaze. His eyes were filled with a mix of concern and desire. "Careful now," he murmured, his voice low, the closeness between us heightening the tension.

"Aw crap! We're all going to die!" Usopp screamed as the dragon started slipping again.

"Are you trying to pull my pants down, or what?!" Zoro yelled at Usopp, who was clinging onto him in a panic.

"Don't give up on us now, buddy!" Luffy cheered, holding on as the dragon struggled to maintain its footing, slipping all the way back to where we started.

Usopp, his nerves getting the better of him, named the dragon "Reonosque."

"That scared the crap out of me," Law muttered, his usual calm demeanor shaken just slightly.

I clenched my left hand in frustration. "I'm on the verge of just flying up there myself."

Law’s hand gently gripped my arm. "You're not going anywhere, princess."

Kanjuro suddenly mentioned his friend Raizo, a ninja, causing every single guy in the group to light up in excitement.

"Oh my," Robin said with amusement.

"That's so cool!" Luffy's eyes sparkled.

"Does he have shuriken?!" Zoro asked eagerly.

"Does he sit on a waterfall?" Usopp added, starry-eyed.

"Does he have powers? He has to!" Law's usually composed face was lit up with interest, almost geeking out at the thought of an actual ninja.

"Can he move in shadows and disappear?" Franky chimed in, his excitement infectious.

Robin and I exchanged a look, both confused but amused by the guys' reactions. "So… are we going to move, or—"

Suddenly, a loud sound came from above, startling us. Something fell toward us at high speed. "Ahh, that came out of nowhere!" Luffy yelled.

"Hit the deck!" Luffy shouted again, but before I could react, something hit me square in the face, causing me to lose my grip.

"Y/N!" Law shouted as I began to fall.

"Ahh!" I screamed, trying to steady myself as the wind rushed past me. In mid-air, I noticed Kinemon and Kanjuro also tumbling through the air.

"Why are you guys falling too?!" I yelled in disbelief.

"We lost our grip!" they both shouted back, flailing wildly.

"You boneheads!" I shouted, the panic in my voice mixing with the absurdity of the situation.

Taking a deep breath, I clenched my left hand and used the momentum of the fall to leap back into the air, flipping gracefully. "That was close," I muttered, landing safely back on the dragon.

Zoro smirked as I settled in front of him. "Comfortable now?" he teased, his arm naturally wrapping around me to steady us both.

"That was one rush, geez," I said, smoothing my hair out of my face, the adrenaline still pumping through me. I glanced back at Law, catching his expression—guilt weighing heavily in his eyes. I gave him a soft smile and a playful wink, letting him know it was alright. His features softened, though the hint of jealousy lingered.

"At first glance, I thought it was a wounded man covered with knives," Robin commented dryly from behind us.

"Really, Robin, can you not be morbid for one second?" I chuckled, trying to shake off the absurdity.

"Or perhaps a little monkey," she continued with a deadpan expression.

Suddenly, we heard Kinemon’s voice call out, "We’re alright! We’ll reunite soon!"

The dragon continued to climb, even though Usopp and the others kept insisting that it was suffering. "He’s struggling; we better press on," Usopp said, looking genuinely concerned as tears formed in his eyes. "Stay strong, Reonosuke!"

"You can do it!" Robin added, holding her hand over her mouth to contain her emotion.

As the evening sun began to set, casting a warm glow over everything, Luffy, completely oblivious to the tension, decided it was nap time and fell right on me.

"Luffy! I swear, if I fall off one more time..." I muttered, trying to shift under his weight.

"Hey, look up there! I see the top!" Franky shouted, his voice filled with excitement.

Suddenly, Luffy stirred in his sleep, lost his grip, and nearly toppled over the side, which set off a chain reaction.

"Phew, that was a—" I started to say until I was cut off by screams.

"Crap! Luffy fell!" Usopp shouted in panic.

"Usopp!" I yelled back. 

"How stupid can you be?!" Zoro roared, clearly frustrated with the chaos.

Before things got worse, Luffy managed to save himself by using his stretchy arms to grab hold of the dragon’s horns, but the sudden shift caused us to start tipping over. Now, Zoro, Usopp, and I were hanging upside down, blood rushing to my head as I tried to maintain a tight grip on the dragon.

Zoro’s arm tightened around my waist, pulling me in closer to secure me. "I got you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice low and filled with a mix of protectiveness and something more... intimate.

I could feel Zoro drawing me even closer, his grip firm yet gentle as he pulled me against his chest. His face was now tucked between my neck and shoulder, his breath warm against my skin.

Suddenly, I felt him place a light, teasing peck on my neck. My breath hitched at the unexpected gesture.

"Z-Zoro…" I started, but his hand remained on my waist, his touch lingering. The playful flirtation between us was undeniable, and Law, from his spot behind, was watching—his eyes darkening with jealousy.

Law clenched his jaw, his irritation clear as he witnessed the moment, but Zoro’s smirk only grew wider. He held me tightly, his lips grazing my skin again, sending a shiver down my spine.

Zoro's smirk widened as he held me tight, still savoring the tension between us, his lips grazing my skin one more time before we both refocused on the task at hand. Luffy, oblivious to the earlier moment, finally managed to pull himself up and land on the dragon's nose. Despite still hanging upside down, we all cheered for Reonosuke to keep going.

"You can do it, Reonosuke!" Luffy yelled encouragingly.

"That’s your word of encouragement?" Usopp said, clearly about to slip off himself.

"Do your best, dragon!" Zoro muttered, annoyed but smirking again. "Actually, take your time."

"Zoro, really!" I said, rolling my eyes at his teasing, though secretly enjoying the playful moment. Finally, Reonosuke managed to pull himself up, and we sped ahead, the dragon straining but continuing the climb.

"Almost to the top! Almost to the top!" everyone cheered, calling Reonosuke's name.

"Be strong, Reonosuke," Robin whispered, tears in her eyes as she covered her mouth.

We finally reached the top and all dismounted the dragon. "We made it! We're here!" Luffy exclaimed with joy.

Robin and I turned to thank the dragon, but he was starting to change back into the drawing.

"You can’t leave!" Usopp cried, emotionally attached now. "Please, Reonosuke! You’re a true hero!"

The rest of us, except for Law and Zoro, were moved by the dragon’s sacrifice.

"This is dumb," Law muttered, crossing his arms. "It’s just a crappy drawing."

Zoro snorted. "Yeah, let’s not get sentimental over a doodle."

As we continued forward, the atmosphere shifted. The once lively place looked abandoned, and the gate ahead was destroyed.

"Did something happen here?" I asked, my eyes scanning the eerie surroundings.

"You see Curly Brows anywhere?" Zoro asked as he stood next to me.

Usopp, who had climbed a tower, yelled down, "Nope, nothing!"

"Should we wait for the others?" Robin asked, a little hesitant.

"Nah, they’ll be fine," I said, waving it off as we ventured further inside. The place felt strange—like something ominous had happened recently.

"Look at the trail too," Zoro pointed out. "No normal animal could’ve made a path this wide."

"I wonder what caused this," Usopp said nervously. Zoro and I exchanged a glance, both sensing the tension in the air.

I clenched my right hand, allowing electricity to surge through it. "Only one way to find out!" Zoro and I said in unison as we moved ahead.

"Wait, slow down!" Usopp yelled, clearly panicking.

"The flowers here grow in odd places," Robin mused, her eyes examining the strange flora around us.

"Geez, what happened here?" Franky added, sniffing the air. "It smells like gas and gunpowder."

Suddenly, we all felt a presence nearby. Zoro unsheathed his sword with a confident grin. "I got this."

A figure darted out from the shadows, swiftly dodging Zoro’s attack mid-air. Before the figure could land a strike, I managed to block it with my electrically charged hand, sending sparks flying.

"Sorry, Zoro, looks like you needed a little backup," I teased, electricity still crackling from my fingertips as I smirked over at him.

Before Zoro could respond, a voice called out. "Carrot! Stop immediately!" Another figure—a giant gator—burst through.

"Since when are there gators here?!" I asked, not taking my eyes off the mink who had just attacked.

"Talking animals?" Usopp said, his voice shaking.

"They’re the Mink Tribe," Law explained, sounding more intrigued than alarmed.

"Wait a second... I know those clothes!" Usopp shouted, realization dawning on him. "But that’s not Nami…"

The mink and I stood off, both still charged with electricity. I raised an eyebrow. "Why don’t you lower your hand?" I suggested, smirking at her. The mink hesitated but backed away as I did the same, turning off the electrical current in my arm.

"There's an invader in the Whale Forest too?!" the mink, Carrot, exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"Yes, the situation is dire," said another mink, wearing Nami's clothes. "The Guardians won’t be happy about this."

"Listen, what did you do to Nami?" Usopp shouted, his fear clear.

"Do you think they’re cannibals?" Robin asked with her usual calmness, causing Usopp to scream in terror.

"Great, now I’m double scared!" Usopp wailed.

Just then, the mink I had faced, Carrot, leaped into the air with impressive force. "That technique looks similar to mine," I thought. "I’m definitely learning that to improve my left leg's agility."

I turned to Zoro. "I could use that move."

Zoro chuckled but stayed focused. "Looks like it could come in handy."

"Carrot, see anything unusual?" the other mink asked.

Carrot pointed west. "Over there!"

The mink in Nami’s clothes got ready to move. "There’s no time to transport you all-tia, so head west to the Trump Forest. That’s where you’ll find your crew’s corpse. Wait for us on the right flank."

The words hit us like a punch. Usopp dropped to the ground in shock.

"Wait… what?" I asked, my voice trembling. "What did she mean by corpse?"

Fear surged through me as the reality of the situation began to settle in. Something terrible had happened to the crew, and we needed to find out what.

Fear still gripped me, but Zoro’s calm logic cut through the panic. "Nobody’s been killed. Curlybrows is with them, remember?"

Usopp, still crying, sniffled, “But she said something about a corpse!”

“Well, she did say ‘corpse,’ which means they haven’t been eaten… yet,” Robin added, ever the realist.

“That’s not the point!” Usopp wailed, shaking his head dramatically.

"Those animal ladies must’ve been trying to trick us," Franky added, his voice tinged with skepticism.

"If that’s the case, then it’s a terrible lie," I said, crossing my arms, trying to push down my own anxiety as I watched Usopp continue to cry.

“Are they the only tribe, or not? And are they cannibals?” Robin asked, still fixated on the worst possibilities.

"Can you please stop with the cannibal stuff?!" Usopp freaked out, his nerves clearly getting the best of him.

"First things first, we need to learn everything we can about this place," I said, trying to focus the group. "Law, your crew should be here, right?"

Law nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, they should be."

"And can you contact them?" Robin asked, always thinking ahead.

"I'm afraid not," Law replied, a hint of regret in his voice. "I didn’t expect to see them again this soon, but I do still have this." He pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. "It’s a Vivre Card—from our navigator, Bepo."

“That’s right!” I said, feeling a bit of relief. “Bepo should be here, waiting for you.”

"Yeah," Law added, "this place is where he was born. But he left the island when he was little, so he doesn’t remember much about the Mink Tribe."

"Are you sure we can trust him?" Usopp piped up, his voice shaky. "Like, what if he still longs to taste human flesh?"

Before Law could respond, I stepped forward, holding up a hand. "Usopp, calm down. I know Bepo, and he’s the sweetest little mink you’ll ever meet. He wouldn’t even think about doing something like that."

Usopp was still unconvinced, his eyes wide. "Y/N, you’ve only met him a handful of times! How can you be so sure?!"

I rolled my eyes, sighing. "Because, Usopp, I met Bepo back in Sabaody. I even gave him my number back when we were in that auction house. When we met, he was so nervous! Trust me, he’s super sweet. Once you see him, you’ll understand." My words came out with complete confidence, trying to ease Usopp’s worries.

As I turned to Law, I noticed something. His gaze had softened as he listened to me talk about Bepo. There was a warmth in his eyes that wasn’t there before, like hearing me speak fondly of his crewmate had stirred something in him. His usual calm demeanor shifted slightly, and for a brief moment, his expression held a depth of emotion—appreciation, admiration, maybe even something more.

But just as quickly, Law broke out of his trance, clearing his throat and composing himself. "Look," he said, his voice steady but with a lingering softness, "I’ve known Bepo for a decade. He’s my friend, and if you want reliable info, follow me." His tone carried a certainty, but there was still that lingering connection in the way he looked at me, like something unspoken had passed between us. 

"Wait! There was a town back there, what if they’re all there waiting?!" Usopp said, still not convinced.

"There might be some cannibals," Robin chimed in, causing Usopp to freak out further.

All of us followed Law as we made our way into town. Destruction was evident everywhere—buildings and houses were reduced to rubble, and debris littered the streets.

"What happened?" I asked, feeling a chill run down my spine as I took in the devastation.

As we moved further, Zoro’s voice came from behind me. "What is this?" He pointed toward a series of crude torture devices scattered in the ruins.

"I don’t know, but it doesn’t look right," I replied.

"Hey, check this out!" Law called, showing us a giant dent in the ground. "This is huge."

"Two weeks," Robin said, eyeing the area. "This place has been abandoned for two weeks."

"Two weeks?!" Usopp exclaimed in disbelief.

Suddenly, the ground shifted beneath us.

"What is it now?" I said, my voice laced with frustration just as a water eruption burst forth, sending us all into chaos.

"Run, guys!" Robin shouted. "Get to higher ground!"

"It’s too late, brace yourselves!" Franky yelled as the floodwaters swept us away.

I fought to stay above water, but the current was relentless, pulling me under again and again. Water filled my lungs, and every gasp for air was followed by another forceful wave that dragged me down. Just when I thought I might be lost to the flood, a strong hand grabbed hold of me.

"I got you!" Zoro shouted, pulling me to safety along with Franky, Usopp, Robin, and Law.

I collapsed onto higher ground, coughing up water as I tried to catch my breath. "Th... Thanks, Zoro," I managed to say, my voice weak but grateful.

Zoro knelt beside me, his strong arms helping me to sit up as I placed a trembling hand on my chest, focusing on steadying my breathing. "Easy, princess, breathe," he said in a tone that was both protective and teasing.

As I opened my eyes, I saw both Zoro and Law staring at me. There was a palpable tension in the air. "Is everything alright with you two?" I asked, my confusion growing as I followed their gazes—only to realize, with a jolt of embarrassment, that my wet top was now clinging to my body, revealing far more than I intended.

Zoro's smirk widened as he looked at me with his usual playful glint. "Well, if you wanted to get my attention, you definitely succeeded, princess," he teased, his voice low and suggestive. His fingers brushed against my arm again, sending another shiver through me. "Though you didn’t have to go this far."

I shot him a glare, my face heating up. "Zoro, seriously—this is not the time."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. "Could’ve fooled me," he murmured, leaning in slightly as his grin deepened. "But hey, I’m not complaining."

I turned away, trying to regain some semblance of composure, only to lock eyes with Law, who had been silently watching the entire exchange. His expression was harder to read, but his eyes were dark, filled with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. Though he said nothing, the hunger in his gaze was unmistakable, sending a different kind of shiver down my spine.

"Law?" I asked, my voice hesitant. "You okay?"

He blinked, breaking free from whatever trance he was in, but the tension in his body and the lingering look he gave me told me everything. He cleared his throat, his usual stoic demeanor returning. "I’m fine," he said curtly, though his gaze drifted back to me, betraying his words.

"Right..." I muttered, feeling the weight of both their stares.

Suddenly, Usopp's frantic voice echoed through the air. "Luffy! Luffy's with that Nami dog lady, and the flying rabbit is there too!"

"Ahh! Luffy is being eaten... kinda!" Usopp screamed from above.

"Then it's true, they must be..." Franky started, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"A cannibal tribe," Robin finished calmly, as Usopp spiraled into another panic.

I slapped my hand on my forehead in frustration. "Of course..." I muttered as we quickly made our way toward Luffy’s direction. The idea of a cannibal tribe was starting to become ridiculous, but convincing Usopp otherwise seemed impossible.

As we ran, Law swiftly used his powers, calling out "Shambles!" In an instant, we were teleported—Usopp and Franky landed horribly on the ground, groaning and tumbling in disarray. Robin, as always, landed gracefully alongside Zoro.

Just as I braced myself for a rough landing, I felt strong arms catch me mid-air. Law held me steady, his grip firm but gentle, and for a brief moment, I was suspended in his arms, our faces inches apart.

I blinked, surprised by the sudden closeness. "Thanks for the catch," I said, my voice soft as I met his eyes.

Law gave a small nod, his usual stoic expression momentarily replaced by something warmer. "Anytime," he replied, his voice low and deliberate, his gaze locked on mine for just a moment longer than necessary.

I felt my cheeks heat up at his words, but before I could respond, Law finally let his hand fall away, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake as he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

"Hey, look who it is?" yelled Luffy, his voice echoing across the clearing as we saw him standing with two Minks by his side. "Are you okay? No missing arms or legs?" Usopp questioned, hiding nervously behind Zoro. Then, in typical Usopp fashion, he took over, pretending to be Zoro, moving his arms like a puppet as if he was Zoro himself.

I sighed, shaking my head at the absurdity. "Well, this is a mess, whatever impression you guys have, it’s all wrong," said the female Mink, crossing her arms. "Look over there. There’s a guard and a gate to our fortress," she continued, pointing ahead where a group of Minks stood guard, watching us cautiously.

"None of them meant any harm. They just didn’t know they were supposed to ring the welcoming bell, open the gate, and deliver this message for me—the Straw Hat Pirates have arrived!" she announced proudly. "We have very important guests! They are friends of our saviors and should be welcomed as such!"

Instantly, the crowd of Minks surrounding us cheered in unison, "Garchu!"

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "Well, I’ll be damned."

"Garchu!" Luffy yelled back, beaming at the crowd.

Suddenly, familiar voices cut through the noise. "There they are!" came Nami’s voice.

"You’re right! I see them!" shouted Chopper, running toward us.

"Chopper!" I called out, rushing forward to meet him. His little arms flew around me as he jumped into my embrace.

"Hey, look! It's Nami and Chopper, and not a scratch on them!" Usopp cried, tears streaming down his face.

"Y/N! You’re not dead!" Chopper sobbed, squeezing me tightly.

"Of course, I’m not, Chopper!" I laughed, hugging him close.

"Luffy!" Nami yelled, relief clear in her voice as she threw herself toward him. "I was so worried! I’m so glad you’re safe!" Luffy just grinned, completely relaxed.

But then, as I held Chopper, I felt him start to tremble. I looked down, only to see him starting to cry again. "Chopper, what’s wrong?" I asked softly, my heart sinking a little at seeing him like this.

He sniffled and looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. "Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?"

I froze, completely blindsided. "Engaged?" I blinked. "What made you think that, Chopper?" I asked, genuinely confused, wondering what could have given him that idea.

But before I could get a response, I turned to the others. "By the way, have you guys seen Brook or Sanji? I need to talk to Sanji... I’m sure he’s been going through it." I chuckled, imagining his dramatic reaction to everything.

However, Nami’s expression turned serious. Her smile faded, and I could see the weight of something dark in her eyes. "I’m sorry, but... Sanji is gone."

Her words hit like a punch, and everything around me seemed to blur. "Gone?" I whispered, feeling the weight of the revelation press down on me.

The shock lingered as time passed, but eventually, the minks began to bring us food and booze, trying to lift our spirits.

I found myself sitting next to Zoro as they served us some kind of monkey wine. Zoro took a sip, nodding appreciatively. "This is fine wine," he said, sounding a bit impressed.

"Mind if I try some?" I asked, curious. I was handed a cup, and as I took a sip, the warmth of the drink immediately spread through me. "Delicious," I murmured, feeling a slight flush rise to my cheeks.

Suddenly, the minks began to cuddle up to Zoro, yelling, "Garchu!" and nuzzling against him. I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.

Zoro, looking completely annoyed, tried to shake them off. "Enough of the cuddles! Can’t you see I’m drinking here?" he growled, pushing them away gently.

"Aww, but it’s fun!" one of the minks whined, trying to cling to him again.

Laughing, I leaned in toward him, teasingly adding, "You guys, Zoro isn’t the mushy type. Watch this." With a smirk, I nuzzled my cheek against his, just like the minks had done. "Garchu!" I said playfully.

Zoro’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he froze, caught off guard by my sudden closeness. But then, with a playful smirk of his own, he slid his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer. His breath was warm against my skin as he whispered, "Oh, so you think you’re clever, huh?"

I giggled, enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment. "Looks like you’re getting used to the cuddles, Zoro."

"Don’t push your luck," he murmured, though his tone was laced with amusement. His fingers gently brushed my side, and I felt the warmth of the wine and his touch mix, sending a slight shiver down my spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing close to my ear. "I’ll give you something to 'garchu' about."

His words, paired with the proximity, sent my heart racing. "Oh, really?" I teased, trying to keep my voice steady, but the tension between us was palpable.

Zoro chuckled, his grip on me tightening slightly. "Remember that favor you owe me from losing that drinking bet?" he said, his tone playful but carrying a hint of challenge.

I blinked, momentarily surprised. "Oh? I thought you’d forgotten about that," I replied, laughing lightly.

"Not a chance," he whispered, his lips almost grazing my ear as he spoke. His voice was low and teasing, making it clear he had been waiting for the perfect moment. "I’ve just been waiting for the right time to cash it in. And trust me, you won’t forget it when I do."

I was about to respond, but the minks once again garchued Zoro, and I couldn't help but laugh at the adorable interaction unfolding. "Don't be mean, Zoro! They are giving us all this meat, and you can't be nice for one second," Luffy muttered, his mouth full of food.

Suddenly, a mink came up to me, garchuing with excitement. "You're so cute! Garchu!" it squeaked. I couldn't resist the playful energy around us, joining in the laughter as we all began to mingle and enjoy the feast.

Just then, someone burst through the doors. "You're... you're here!" Brook exclaimed, rushing towards us with an air of excitement.

"Brook!" I exclaimed, placing my drink on the floor and rushing to greet him. "Brook!" everyone echoed joyously, their voices filling the room.

"Ohhh Joy! I read about your big battle!" Brook cried, his eye sockets dripping with tears of relief. "I'm so glad you’re all okay!" His gaze fixed on me, and he added, "Y/N! You’re not dead!"

I laughed, a sense of warmth spreading through me. "No, I’m very much alive!" I replied, grinning at his exuberance.

But then Brook's expression shifted to one of concern. "Also, why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?!" he asked, rushing over to hug me from the side, his tears now flowing freely.

"Brook, what are you on about?" I replied, slightly confused. I raised my right hand, showcasing the only ring I carried. "Engagement ring? The only rings I carry are the ones King gave me!" I insisted. "Who told you I was engaged?"

Before Brook could answer, he turned his attention to Luffy. "I’ve missed you!" Brook cried, suddenly clinging to Luffy and shedding tears. "What’s wrong? You’re all banged up!"

"Never mind me, I’m sorry about Sanji! I feel like I’ve lost all face! Although not that I have one to begin with," Brook lamented dramatically. I was about to ask about Sanji when Usopp interrupted.

"Oh yeah, wasn’t Momo supposed to be with you guys?" he asked, curiosity lighting up his face.

Brook tensed up at the mention of Momo. "Momo isn’t fond of the minks," he explained, his tone becoming more serious. He then pulled us aside for a private chat, clearly wanting to ensure the discussion remained discreet.

"We aren’t allowed to mention samurai or Wano," Brook explained, glancing around cautiously. "It might cause offense or pain to the minks."

"What’s the deal?" I asked, confused and concerned about the implications.

Just as Brook was about to continue, he was suddenly bitten by one of the dog minks, who seemed enamored with his bony figure. "He’s so popular," Robin remarked, smirking as we all walked to sit down together.

"Luffy, I don’t see Traffy anywhere," Chopper said, looking around.

"Yeah, he said ‘bear place,’" Luffy replied, scratching his head in confusion.

"Bear place?" Chopper echoed, his brows furrowing in thought.

"I think what Luffy is trying to say is that Traffy is with Bepo and the rest of his crew," Robin clarified, rolling her eyes at Luffy’s usual antics.

I felt a surge of relief knowing that Traffy was with his crew. "I hope they’re okay," I said quietly, glancing at my friends.

"He’s fine! Instead, we should worry more about Sanji," Nami interjected, her expression turning serious.

"He left you a letter, didn’t he? His thing will work out," Zoro said, his tone indifferent, though I could sense his concern.

"Actually, Zoro, he left two letters, and one was for Y/N," Nami corrected, holding out the folded paper to me.

"A letter for me?" I said, my curiosity piqued as I took the letter from Nami's hands.

I carefully opened its contents, and as I read, the words made my eyes glossy with tears. "What is he saying?" I whispered, my heart racing.

The letter read:

My beloved Y/N,I didn’t want you to find out this way, nor did I want the crew to think I was hiding anything. I’m not marrying Big Mom’s daughter, nor do I care about engagements. The only woman I have my eyes set on is you. I’ll be damned if I let anybody harm you or force you into doing anything against your will. I’ll be back in no time, once I sort this whole situation out. Y/N, as I write this letter, I want you to know...

The ink smudged slightly, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. The words danced before my eyes as I tried to process everything. I only want to be engaged to you, and I’ll be damned if I let a Vinsmoke claim you as his.

"This letter doesn’t make any sense," I said, my voice trembling as I struggled to comprehend his declarations.

Luffy began to ponder, his brow furrowed in thought. Zoro’s grip on my waist tightened slightly, a possessiveness evident in his posture. "Hmmm, he didn’t get kidnapped; he just left?" Luffy mused, trying to piece together the situation.

"That’s what I’m worried about! It all seems too fishy!" Nami exclaimed, her eyes wide with concern.

"I’m so sorry!" Chopper chimed in, his voice quivering with emotion. "We couldn’t do anything to stop him."

"You’re going to need to give us more details because I’m lost," Franky added, crossing his arms as he looked at Nami expectantly.

"Same here!" I echoed, my thoughts racing. With the letter Sanji gave me, my wanted poster stamped with "Only Alive," and the ominous mention of a Vinsmoke, I felt like I was caught in the middle of a storm. "I need a rundown of everything."

"Listen, Nami, we need to know the details in full. Tell us what happened in the last 11 days since you left Dressrosa and boarded the Sunny," Robin urged, her expression serious.

"Okay, I’ll tell you everything that happened," Nami said, her tone shifting as she prepared to recount the story.

As Nami began to detail the events that unfolded—from my capture by Doflamingo to the sudden appearance of Big Mom’s ship—we all listened intently, absorbing every word. The atmosphere shifted from anxiety to excitement as Nami recounted how they fought valiantly against overwhelming odds.

We all cheered as Luffy recounted how they kicked ass. 'Way to go, guys!' I said, resting my head on Zoro’s chest, feeling the comfort of his presence. His heartbeat was steady, a reassuring rhythm amidst the chaos of our situation. Zoro looked down at me, a hint of a smirk on his lips, as if he was proud to be my anchor in this whirlwind of emotions and revelations.

"So, you came here after that? How long did it take?" Robin asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Zou was close to us, so we arrived in a day," Nami replied.

"We’ve been here ten days!" Chopper added, holding up his hooves, his eyes wide with surprise.

Robin then turned her attention to Wanda, asking about the city’s situation. With a solemn expression, Wanda recounted the tale of what had transpired, her face bearing the weight of the tragic events. She explained how they owed everything to the Straw Hats and Chopper's medical expertise for saving many lives in the aftermath of the attack.

Just then, the minks received news that the Duke was awake. "Duke Dogstorm would like to meet the saviors," one of the minks announced, excitement rippling through the gathered crowd.

Wanda continued, her tone turning serious as she recalled the assault by Jack and the Beast Pirates. "They wanted something we didn’t have," she explained, her voice thick with emotion. "The Beast Pirates attacked and caused destruction beyond what we could handle."

"So it was Kaido's crew that attacked, and they are the Beast Pirates," Robin clarified, piecing together the information.

Wanda nodded, confirming Robin's deduction. "Those bastards," I muttered, my anger flaring at the thought of what the minks had endured.

Sensing my growing rage, Zoro placed his arm around my shoulder, a silent gesture of support meant to calm me down. His warmth enveloped me, grounding me amidst the tumult of emotions swirling within. I leaned into him slightly, grateful for his presence as I tried to push the anger aside 

"They wouldn't listen to a word we said; we were forced to fight or die," Wanda recounted, her voice heavy with the memories of the battle.

"Wait, so Jack ended up leaving but he never found the samurai?" Usopp asked, piecing together the timeline.

Luffy, oblivious to the tension, began bouncing with excitement, his voice high and squeaky. "Wow, that was fun!" he declared, moving up and down the bridge in his usual overenthusiastic manner.

"Luffy! Stop!" I shouted, half-amused and half-exasperated.

"Not for us!" the rest of the crew chimed in unison, their frustration evident.

We finally arrived at the place where Duke Dogstorm was resting, and Wanda continued sharing details about Cat Viper and the Duke, her tone shifting to a more somber note. "But then... a poison gas," she said, her expression darkening.

Realization dawned on all of us simultaneously. "You know what that means," Chopper chimed in, his eyes wide. "The poison gas—it was Caesar's."

"Looks like he’s getting another ass-kicking," I muttered, my determination hardening. "He’s number three on my list." I made a mental note to settle the score with Caesar, the memory of his past actions fueling my resolve. Zoro tightened his grip on my shoulder,

"So I see the connection now! Kaido's bio-weapons came from Doflamingo!" Robin said, her words cutting through the room with sharp clarity.

The mention of his name made my body tense up, a wave of anxiety washing over me. My breathing became shallow, and the air around me felt like it was closing in. The memories of Doflamingo's cruel grip, his suffocating presence, all surged back.

"Y/N, breathe... breathe," Zoro's voice came, steady and firm, his hand gently squeezing my shoulder.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the rhythm of my breaths, trying to push the panic back down. Just the mention of Doflamingo was enough to set me on edge, but Zoro’s calm presence beside me helped me regain control. I nodded slightly, silently thankful for him as I worked to ground myself, the weight of the past momentarily easing.

Luffy gritted his teeth, fists clenched tight. "Caesar!" he growled, fury evident in his voice. "He's getting an ass kicking!"

"I've already made a mental note, Captain," I said, my eyes narrowing. A small electrical current sparked from my fingers as I added with a smirk, "He's getting an ass kicking and a shock."

Luffy grinned, his anger momentarily turning into excitement at the thought. “Good! He deserves it!”

Luffy’s grin faltered, replaced by a more serious expression as Wanda continued recounting the terrible events they endured. “It wasn’t your fault, you must’ve been frustrated,” Luffy said, trying to comfort her.

Wanda’s voice trembled as she recalled the horrors. “We were all completely paralyzed… and as for what happened next... I don’t even want to say it.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I can’t shake the screams of innocent lives, begging for help…”

I felt my heart ache for her and the minks. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, wishing there was more I could do to ease their pain.

“We were spared by fate,” came a deep, weary voice. Duke Dogstorm was now awake, slowly lifting his head.

“How long have you been awake?!” Luffy exclaimed in surprise.

The Duke, still groggy but focused, lifted a newspaper to show us. The headline read that Jack had died. "The day Jack left our kingdom was the day you two, Gara,"—he nodded towards both Luffy and me—“challenged Doflamingo. I realized then, Jack was trying to liberate Doflamingo from captivity. It must have been bound by some deep-rooted connection. The reason they left... was because of you two.”

The Duke’s words weighed heavily, the realization settling over us all. His eyes closed again, falling back into sleep as exhaustion claimed him.

Wanda, tears still fresh, turned to us. “Knowing that, I feel even more gratitude. All of our lives are deeply indebted to you.”

“And the day Doflamingo was defeated was the day we arrived here,” Chopper added, putting it all together.

I couldn’t help but feel the immense gravity of our actions—how they rippled across the world and saved so many lives, even when we didn’t realize it.

Zoro’s grip tightened slightly, his proud grin never faltering. “That’s my partner,” he repeated, leaning down to kiss the top of my head again, his lips lingering just a bit longer this time.

I smirked, unable to resist teasing him. “Look at you, Zo. Being all soft.”

Before Zoro could reply, Usopp’s voice cut through the moment. “Soft? Zoro? Are we still talking about the same guy?!” Usopp threw his hands up in exaggerated disbelief. “Must be the wine talking, no way he’s being all cuddly!”

Zoro shot Usopp a glare, his face flushed—probably a mix of both embarrassment and the booze. “Hey!, keep it up and you’ll be next.”

Usopp immediately raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! No need to get all ‘swordsman’ on me!” he said, backing off with a grin.

Zoro pulled me closer, his arm a steady presence around my shoulder as Chopper recounted their harrowing journey to Zou. He detailed how Nami and Brook faced off against one of the Beast Pirates, and how he, Sanji, and Caesar saw the devastation that had torn through the Mink Tribe. The image of the crucified Minks caused a chill to settle over the group. Chopper explained how he managed to create an antidote, saving lives while Caesar, predictably, gloated about his role in creating the gas.

"Man, Gas Guy sucks," Luffy muttered, his face twisted in disgust.

"Just wait until I get my hands on him," I growled, my right hand now glowing with a red crackle of electricity. The spark of power surged through me, fueled by the anger at the devastation Caesar had caused.

Zoro gave a quick side glance at the electricity in my hand, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Seems like someone’s extra fired up."

“Y/N?! When did you learn to do that?!” Chopper asked, eyes wide with surprise.

I was about to explain, but Zoro cut in. “The princess’s blades pick up on her energy. So it depends—one can be blue, one can be yellow, and I believe red. Right, princess?” he said, resting his chin on my head with a casual possessiveness.

“There’s more to the blades,” I added, “but I’m still figuring it out. They can even cast white sometimes.”

Usopp, ever observant, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Zoro, are you sure that wine didn’t do something to you? You’re acting a bit… soft.”

Zoro’s eyes narrowed, but before he could retort, I grinned and added, “Maybe it’s the garchu he got earlier.”

The group continued to laugh as Zoro tightened his hold around me, a playful yet protective gesture. Chopper then recounted how he and Caesar had managed to neutralize the gas, detailing the tense moments where time was against them. “We were in a race against time,” he said, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. He explained how Wanda initially thought they were enemies, but Pedro and Tristan vouched for the Straw Hats. With Caesar’s reluctant help, they managed to create a vaccine to save the minks.

Wanda’s voice trembled as she spoke, tears welling in her eyes. “You-tia saved our civilization.”

Franky, ever the emotional one, began to cry openly. “I’m so proud of you guys! Look at that! You guys are super!” His exaggerated sobbing only added to the warmth of the moment.

Chopper suddenly perked up, remembering something. “Oh! Since the sun’s down, that means I’m on night shift. I’ve got to take care of Cat Viper!”

“I’m coming! Let’s go meet him!” Luffy said excitedly, his energy as boundless as ever.

“Let’s all go!” I chimed in, my own curiosity piqued by the mysterious figure of Cat Viper.

“Sweet, guess that settles it!” Luffy grinned as we all made our way to climb onto Wanda’s gator. 

as we all made our way to climb onto Wanda’s gator, excitement buzzing through the group. As we rode through the lush forest, Luffy leaned forward, his curiosity clearly building. “Anyway, Wanda, you never finished the story.”

“Yeah, you didn’t tell us what happened to our dumbass cook and idiot gas guy,” Zoro added from behind me, his arms wrapped securely around me as my back rested against his chest. His casual comment earned a few chuckles from the others, but there was an edge of concern beneath his words.

As the gator moved through the forest, the cool night air brushing past us, I could feel Zoro’s steady heartbeat against my back. His head resting gently on my neck sent a soft laugh bubbling up from my chest, and I couldn’t help but lean into the moment, feeling completely at ease.

That’s when Usopp, always the drama king, jumped in with a theatrical gasp. "Zoro has definitely gone soft! This would totally set Sanji over the edge!" He threw his hands in the air for extra emphasis, grinning widely as he continued his teasing. "It’s like you’re claiming Y/N or something!"

Everyone burst into laughter at Usopp’s over-the-top performance, and I shook my head, trying to stifle my giggles. "Usopp, you’re too much!" I managed to say through the laughter.

Zoro, however, remained calm, though the corner of his mouth quirked into a smirk. "Tch. Let Sanji think what he wants," he muttered, his arms tightening just a bit more around me. "I don’t need to explain myself to him."

Usopp snickered. "You’re totally claiming her!"

Zoro smirked, completely unfazed. “Well, she is my partner, after all,” he said boldly, tightening his grip slightly.

My cheeks flushed at his statement, but I couldn’t help but laugh along with everyone else, feeling a mixture of warmth and excitement. “I thought I was just your nap sidekick?” I teased, looking up at him with a grin.

Zoro leaned in, his grin widening. “You’re that too,” he replied, making the others chuckle more. Usopp exaggeratedly threw his hands up again.

“Now they’ve got titles for each other! Sanji’s gonna lose his mind when he hears this!” Usopp added dramatically, shaking his head.

Before Wanda could respond to Luffy’s earlier question, Brook suddenly intervened, strumming his guitar ominously. “Perhaps it’s best if I tell the rest of this tale,” he said solemnly. “I fear our dear friend Sanji may never return to our side.”

“What?!” Luffy and I both exclaimed in shock.

“That’s crazy. In both our letters, Sanji said he was coming back,” I argued, confusion creeping into my voice.

“He wouldn’t lie to us! I believe Sanji’s story!” Luffy shouted, fists clenched in determination.

Zoro, leaning back with a scoff, added, “Don’t know about you guys, but I wouldn’t miss him. If I never see him again, he was kind of dead weight for us.”

I turned in Zoro’s arms and thumped him on the chest. “Don’t be mean!” I said, giving him a stern look before turning back around.

“Sanji is still our friend, Zoro!” Luffy yelled, his temper flaring slightly.

Brook then continued the story. “It was then that Pekoms and Bege from Big Mom’s crew showed up on the island as well.”

“So, Big Mom’s pirates were here on Zou?” Usopp asked, his voice incredulous.

“Yeah, so Sanji must have kicked their pickled asses, huh?” Luffy added, grinning wide.

“That would’ve really set Big Mom off!” Usopp said, a mix of awe and fear in his voice.

“It’s fine since I already started that fight,” Luffy said nonchalantly.

Brook strummed his guitar once more, his voice softening. “Sanji is as kind-hearted as they come... He led those two into a fortress in the forest. But Bege kept mentioning something odd. He kept asking, ‘Where’s the girl?’”

I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”

Brook looked at me seriously, his hollow eyes reflecting concern. “When Sanji confronted Bege about it, he thought they were talking about Nami at first. But we were all taken inside Bege’s body. Sanji sat across from Bege, while Pekoms was shot for being willing to call Big Mom and tell her the mission failed. Nami, Caesar, Chopper, and I were all chained.”

My body tensed at the revelation. Zoro’s grip on me tightened instantly, his protective instinct kicking in.

“Wait, inside his body?” I interrupted, my body tensing at the strange revelation.

“How’d you guys even fit?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood despite my rising unease.

"I would presume you'd need to cut up his abdomen," Robin said casually, prompting Usopp to freak out.

"Enough with the body horror, okay?!" Usopp exclaimed, visibly disturbed.

Brook continued. “After that, Bege asked about ‘the girl’ again. Sanji, still assuming it was Nami, asked who they meant. But then Bege clarified, saying the one they were looking for was Princess Y/N.”

“What?!” I shot up from my position, now sitting straight. “What could Big Mom want with me?!”

Zoro’s grip tightened further, his tension matching mine as he tried to keep me calm.

“We all tried to figure that out too,” Brook said gravely. “But then, there was startling news. Bege revealed that Big Mom had planned two weddings, and she requested both Sanji and Y/N’s attendance. Sanji was enraged and rejected the idea, saying he was already engaged—to you, Y/N.”

“He said what?!” I shouted, coughing in surprise as I tried to process the revelation. "I never agreed to any marriage! Why would Sanji say that?!" My mind raced, recalling the words in Sanji's letter. “Is that why he added that to my letter?!”

Brook nodded, continuing, “Which is what I told Nami—it’s more of a one-sided marriage since you didn’t agree to it.”

“But I just know you would’ve made a blushing bride! Yohohohoho!” Brook added, his laugh oddly light-hearted despite the tension.

Before I could respond, Luffy, oblivious to the seriousness of the situation, cut in. “Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?! We could’ve done something on the Sunny!” he said with wide, innocent eyes.

“Well, you know, Captain, I was hoping to keep it under—" I began sarcastically before losing my temper. "I HAVEN’T EVEN AGREED TO A PROPOSAL!” I yelled, my rage finally spilling out.

Zoro, sensing I was on the verge of losing control, got up from his lounging position and pulled me back into his arms, holding me close. He leaned down to whisper in my ear, his voice calm but firm. “You’re not marrying anyone you don’t want to, princess. I’ll make sure of that.”

Brook then revealed the next shocker. “Bege pulled out a second invitation—this one meant for you, Y/N. You were to be married to the first son of the Vinsmoke family, Ichiji.”

“So I’m in an arranged marriage?!” I said, my voice rising with the burning anger inside me.

Luffy’s confusion was palpable as he scratched his head. “Wait, Y/N, I’m confused. So are you marrying Sanji or this Ichiji guy?”

“I’M NOT MARRYING EITHER ONE!” I yelled, my frustration boiling over.

Zoro’s arm tightened protectively around me as he smirked, his voice low. “That’s the spirit.”

Brook continued with the story, “Sanji then asked whose bright idea it was and why. Bege answered, telling him he’s a Vinsmoke and how should he know. Sanji even asked why you were involved, to which Bege said that Ichiji would have been there, but he was taking care of business for Judge. He’s excited to see his soon-to-be bride, but what shocked me was that he was the one who called for your wedding and that yours would be first, then Sanji's,” he said, causing me to cough once more.

Brook continued, saying that the revelation that Sanji was also a Vinsmoke chilled him to the bones. “Sanji kept denying it, saying he wasn’t going to marry or go to a tea party for Big Mom, and that he’d be damned if he let any of those bastards harm Y/N,” Brook added, looking solemn.

“Bege was adamant in having you there as well, but since you were in Dressrosa fighting, they both kept arguing back and forth.” Brook continued, his tone growing more serious. “Bege even said that if you didn’t show, then something would happen.”

“What do you mean, something?” I asked, my heart racing at the implication.

“We don’t know,” Brook admitted, his expression grave. “But Sanji willingly left with Bege and helped us escape. He said that he was going to deal with his… family, along with the whole wedding situation.”

“So now I understand why my wanted poster suddenly showed ‘Vinsmoke Y/N.’ This Ichiji guy was trying to claim me,” I said, the weight of it all crashing down on me.

"One of Bege's members also whispered something to Sanji which caused him to tense, which also led to him deciding to go," said Brook.

"Okay! If we can't figure it out, then we'll just have to go and ask Sanji!" yelled Luffy.

"You're crazy!" Usopp exclaimed, eyes wide. "Bad idea!" Zoro chimed in, still gripping my waist.

"I'm with you, Luffy!" I declared, causing everyone to turn to me in disbelief. "What?!"

"You guys have to understand, I'm also at stake here," I insisted, pulling out one of my blades from the thigh halter, its blue hue glowing. "I'd like to pay my fiancée Ichiji a visit."

"You’re crazy! So you think we can just waltz on over to Big Mom?" Usopp protested.

"Yeah, we gotta," Luffy affirmed, determination in his eyes.

"She's one of the Four Emperors! We've never faced anyone like that," Robin cautioned.

"Right, which is why we gotta be sneaky!" Luffy said, and I pointed at him, nodding. "That's the idea."

"Now that I think of it... I might know a way," Chopper added thoughtfully. "They did leave someone behind, so he could tell us something helpful."

As time continued to pass, I found myself leaning against Zoro as we traveled to Cat Viper. His hands traced soothing patterns on my body, trying to ease my anxiety. My blades were now back on their halter. I turned to look up at him; he met my gaze with a lazy grin, clearly enjoying the moment of peace.

"Poor Pekoms, he put himself in harm's way to defend us," Brook said with a sigh.

"We need to know where to find Sanji. Pekoms is the best lead we have," he continued.

"Right! He'll talk to me. If not, I'll drag it out of him," Luffy declared, enthusiasm bubbling over. "Then when we find Sanji, we can figure out if he’s getting married or what."

"And I can kick Ichiji's ass and make him take off his last name on my wanted poster! It’s a win-win if you ask me!" I chimed in, grinning.

We finally arrived at Cat Viper's location, greeted once again by the guardians. Pedro came down from the tree, his demeanor sheepish as he apologized for attacking Luffy earlier.

"Go see Bepo; they’re in the back," said Pedro, motioning for us to move.

"Not right now. We want to talk to Cat Viper and Lion Viper first," Luffy responded, his tone firm.

Pedro leaned in closer and whispered, "Pekoms is awake. We should head to the back."

Chopper, starstruck by a lady reindeer, decided to check on Cat Viper himself. I couldn't help but smirk at the interaction. Robin, Brook, and Usopp followed Chopper, while Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Wanda, Carrot, and I made our way to see Pekoms.

As we approached, Pekoms looked weary but determined. "That bastard Bege, I’m sorry I couldn’t do more, but your pal Black Leg’s long gone," he said. "No one can refuse Mama’s wedding."

"As for you, Princess," Pekoms continued, "Ichiji will more than likely look for you since you're not on the boat with Black Leg."

"He can try, but I’ll still be able to kick his ass," I smirked defiantly. "No one is going to force me to marry anybody, and these Vinsmokes can all get their asses kicked too if I have anything to say about it."

Luffy chimed in, "Sanji would never just pick one girl to marry. Besides, he said he was engaged to Y/N already."

I thumped him on the head, feeling my face heat up. "We aren’t engaged!" I snapped, frustration bubbling over. "There were already two agreements established: one was Mama’s, and the other was Sanji’s father. Since, Princess, you are to be married to Ichiji, then you were also invited to Mama’s party, and your wedding is first."

"Again, I’m not marrying anybody," I said, my tone still defiant.

"So what kind of person is Sanji's father?" Nami asked, curiosity shining in her eyes.

"He’s got quite the reputation in the underworld," Pekoms replied, a serious expression crossing his face. "Are you familiar with a group called Germa 66, the warmongers?"

"The Vinsmoke family sits at the top, and their leader is Black Leg’s father," Pekoms said, his voice steady.

"What?!" I exclaimed, disbelief washing over me. "If you know anything about them, then you’d know they are a vicious group of assassins."

Suddenly, the revelation caused me to stumble back slightly. "So... does that mean..." I said in a low voice.

"That’s right, your future husband is an assassin," Pekoms confirmed, his words hanging heavily in the air.

“No way! This can’t be happening!” I shouted, feeling panic rise like a wave threatening to crash over me. My chest tightened as I felt the weight of it all—the forced engagement, Sanji's family, and everything beyond my control. "I won’t be part of this! I refuse to let anyone dictate my life like this!"

Feeling overwhelmed, I muttered a rushed excuse and bolted from the room. Once outside, I pressed my hand to my chest, trying desperately to steady my breathing. The cool air hit my face, but it did little to calm the whirlwind inside me. My other hand gripped my hair tightly, as if holding myself together.

From inside, I could still hear Luffy’s voice, his tone sharp with determination. "Is Sanji coming back to us or not? I don’t care if he’s getting married! Listen, if you think we’re going to work under Big Mom, then you’re crazy! I’m fine with making an alliance, but you guys gotta work for us!"

Luffy's words were bold and comforting in their own way, but I could barely focus. My breaths came shallow, rapid. My heart was pounding too fast, too hard. I was teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

Suddenly, I felt strong hands snake around my waist from behind, pulling me close to a warm, familiar chest. "Breathe, princess. Breathe," Zoro’s low voice rumbled in my ear as he gently kissed the back of my neck. His lips grazed my skin, and the sensation sent shivers down my spine.

"I… I can’t—" I started, but he tightened his grip just a little, his calm presence pulling me back from the brink.

"Shhh," he whispered, his lips still close to my neck. "You’re stronger than this. I know you are." His hands slowly moved up to my shoulders, grounding me, his thumbs tracing slow circles. "No one’s going to make you do anything you don’t want. Not Ichiji. Not Sanji’s father. No one."

I leaned back into him, letting his steady breathing guide mine, the storm inside me slowly subsiding.

"You don’t have to handle everything alone," Zoro murmured into my ear, his voice deeper now, filled with something more than just comfort. His lips brushed the edge of my jawline. "You’ve got me. And I won’t let anyone hurt you, not them, not anyone."

I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin, his hands sliding down to my hips, holding me firmly against him. There was a protective intensity in the way he touched me, but something else lingered beneath the surface.

He leaned down, his mouth ghosting over the shell of my ear. "I’d take on the entire Vinsmoke family myself if it meant keeping you safe. Don’t doubt that for a second."

My heart, still racing from the panic, now fluttered for a different reason. "Zoro…" I whispered, his name barely leaving my lips as his hands wandered lower, his touch both reassuring and wanting.

He turned me around slowly, his eyes dark, intense, locking onto mine. "You don’t have to be afraid, Y/N," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Not when I’m here. I won’t let them take you." His forehead rested against mine, his breath mingling with mine as his hands gripped my waist tighter.

"Zoro... thank you for everything," I whispered, my voice barely audible, but he heard it clearly. My hands slid up behind his head, fingers tangling gently in his hair as I scratched lightly at his scalp. He let out a low, quiet groan, the sound rumbling in his chest and sending a thrill through me.

For a moment, I stayed there, relishing the warmth of his body and the comfort he gave me. Slowly, I began to pull away, my heart still racing, though for entirely different reasons now. Before I let him go completely, I leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, feeling the heat of his skin beneath my lips.

"Thank you... again," I whispered, my breath brushing against his face. His eyes stayed locked on mine, the intensity never leaving them as he nodded, though I could see a flicker of something deeper behind those dark eyes.

I turned and made my way back inside, feeling his gaze linger on me as I reentered the room, a small sense of calm returning to my chaotic world.

“So you get it or not?! Go tell Big Mom that’s the deal!” Luffy shouted as I finally reentered the room. My eyes met his as he turned to me, grinning. “Your little eyeballs are funny,” he said with a laugh to Pekoms, as both he and Carrot giggled.

“Either way, neither Blackleg nor the princess can get out of this marriage,” Pekoms muttered darkly.

“And why not?” Luffy snapped back.

“Nobody puts Mama to shame, not without paying the price,” Pekoms responded.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, feeling the dread rise in my chest again.

“In a couple of days, if they don’t show up to the party, Mama’s guests get a surprise. They get a box... with the loved one’s decapitated head in it,” Pekoms said grimly. I felt the weight of his words crash down on me, heavy and suffocating.

Pekoms continued, “It might be one of your heads if Mama sees fit, or maybe it’s one of the heads of Blackleg’s old crew back at the restaurant, or someone who trained with him from Kamabakka Kingdom. And for you, princess, it’s the same. Could be one of your crew, or King, or one of the men you trained with.”

My eyes widened, and rage surged through me. Before I could stop myself, I lunged at Pekoms, grabbing him by the shirt. I didn’t care if he was injured—I wasn’t going to let him finish that threat.

“Now you listen, and you listen good, you lion viper!” I snarled, tightening my grip. “I will not let you or anybody lay a hand on my crew, or King, or the men I trained with back on that island! You got that?!”

“Y/N, relax!” Nami tried to intervene.

“No, Nami, you don’t understand!” I shouted, tears welling in my eyes. “I’d rather die than let anything happen to you or them!” The tears finally spilled over, and I could feel the overwhelming sense of helplessness creeping in.

Luffy’s voice snapped me out of my rage. “Hold on, how do you guys even know all this about Sanji and Y/N?”

“There’s no hope... she’s gonna follow through with it. That’s why no one can fight the Four Emperors,” Pekoms muttered as I released him, feeling a wave of exhaustion hit me.

Pekoms coughed before adding, “Once these marriages happen, Blackleg and the princess will no longer be part of the crew. These marriages are strictly political.”

I felt lightheaded. Luffy, clearly frustrated, grabbed Pekoms and shook him. “What the hell kind of threat is that? Y/N and Sanji are my friends! Okay?!”

“Alright! You can take me with you!” Luffy declared, determined.

“Luffy!” Nami protested.

“Listen, I’m going without you,” Luffy said, turning to her. “I’m with Robin on this one. If we all go together, it’ll be like we’re starting a war.”

Luffy then turned to me. “Y/N, you’re coming with me too!” he said confidently.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” I smirked, pulling my sword from its sheath. “We don’t have time for an all-out war. If I stick with this guy, all we need to do is stop Sanji’s wedding and kick Ichiji’s ass.” said Luffy

“Hey, screw you!” Pekoms interjected.

“Well, too late, Pekoms. Looks like you’re doing it,” I said with defiance.

“I never agreed to this,” Pekoms grumbled.

“And I never agreed to get married. Looks like we both got issues,” I shot back, making my way outside.

As I stepped out, I could see Luffy and Zoro talking. “You’re worried about Sanji too, huh?” Luffy asked.

“You want me to cut you? I’m more worried about Y/N than that lovesick cook,” Zoro muttered.

I couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Thank you for worrying about me, Zo,” I said as I leaned in, placing a kiss on his cheek. He was taken off guard, eyes widening in surprise.

Just then, Usopp called out. “Hey! Luffy! Zoro! Y/N!”

The rest of the crew caught up to us, and Chopper asked, “Hey, how’s Pekoms doing?”

“Oh, good! You’re here! Pekoms is bleeding a lot and banging his head—better check him out,” Luffy said casually as Chopper rushed over.

“Hey there! You guys must be the Straw Hats!” a voice called out. We turned to see Cat Viper approaching, towering over us.

“He’s so cute!” I squealed in surprise.

Suddenly, Cat Viper charged at us with excitement, giving us a giant thank-you “Garchu,” knocking Luffy, Zoro, and me onto the ground.

“Ugh... oww,” I groaned.

Luffy, who had already bounced back up, grinned. “Alright, Zoro, it’s your turn.”

As I tried to pull myself back up, Zoro straddled me, smirking down with his trademark lazy grin. “I’m actually starting to like this position,” he said with a teasing edge to his voice.

I felt my cheeks flush at his words, but I rolled my eyes, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. “You would,” I muttered, trying to push him off, but his weight remained firm, pinning me beneath him. His grin only widened as he watched my futile attempts.

“Zoro! Get off her, we don’t have time for this!” Usopp called from behind, half-panicked but also mildly amused by the scene

Zoro’s irritation was palpable as he pulled out his swords, but I couldn’t help but laugh at his frustration. “If you want to garchu to death, do it without me!” he barked at Cat Viper, who looked like he was having the time of his life despite the injuries.

Luffy and I burst into laughter at the sight of Zoro dealing with the giant feline's enthusiastic energy. "Come on, Cat, get up! We’re going to fight!” Zoro growled, drawing his two swords.

“Woah, take it easy! He’s still injured,” Usopp shouted, trying to calm Zoro down.

Zoro, with a cocky grin, muttered, “So? He’s got nine lives. About to be eight, though!”

I quickly smacked him on the head, giving him a stern look. “Don’t be rude!”

Amid the playful chaos, I heard Luffy call out, “Hey, Traffy!” My gaze followed his voice, and there stood Law with his usual stoic expression, seemingly ignoring the lively commotion. “Is this your crew!” said Luffy eying traffys crew. 

“Those are the Heart Pirates, twenty members strong,” Luffy said, pointing toward Law’s crew. Each of them struck poses in unison, proudly displaying their unity.

“Thanks for taking care of our captain, Strawhat!” they called out in unison.

“No problem!” Luffy replied with his signature grin.

Law, ever the serious one, tried to steer the situation back on track. “Let’s talk in private,” he said, causing his crew to boo in disappointment.

“We’re not having a party, and we’re not friends. We are strategic allies,” Law added, his tone firm.

I couldn’t resist the chance to tease him. I crossed my arms and smirked. “Ohh, is that so?” I said, stepping forward.

Law’s eyes widened when he finally noticed me. “Princess... I...”

Before he could finish, I clenched my left fist playfully and leaped into the air, landing gracefully beside him. “Are we really just strategic allies?” I teased, leaning in slightly with a playful smirk.

Law, flustered, was about to reply, but before he could, Bepo’s loud voice interrupted. “Y/N!”

I laughed as I turned to Bepo, who was already making his way toward me. “Bepo! Come here!” I exclaimed, running toward the giant polar bear, who lifted me effortlessly and nuzzled my cheek. His soft fur tickled my face, making me laugh harder. “I missed you!”

When Bepo finally set me down, I turned to see Penguin and Shachi standing nearby, their expressions a delightful mix of awkwardness and warmth. “Penguin, Shachi! Always good to see you!” I exclaimed, pulling both of them into a hug. They exchanged glances, unsure whether to hug back or blush, their faces turning a bright shade of pink.

“It’s great to see you too, princess!” they finally said, giving in to the hug with relieved smiles.

“And these must be the rest of the Heart Pirates,” I noted, eyeing the crew curiously. “I’m sorry if your captain hasn’t introduced us to you guys, but my name is—”

“Ohh, we know who you are!” one member interrupted with a playful smirk.

“Yeah, Captain goes on and on about you,” another chimed in, grinning.

“Oh really? Is that so?” I teased, turning my gaze to Law, who was trying his best to maintain a stoic expression while Luffy pointed and laughed at him. I could see a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Bepo's eyes widened in excitement as he spotted the half heart necklace hanging from my neck. “Ohh, Y/N! Is that the heart necklace?” he asked, practically bouncing on his feet.

“Yes, it is, Bepo! But while I was with Doflamingo, he yanked it and it split in two. So I keep one, and Law kept the other. He’s wearing it too,” I explained, smiling at the memory.

“Look at that! Our captain has a matching accessory with the princess!” Penguin teased, elbowing Shachi, who giggled in response.

“Getting pretty cozy, aren’t we, Captain?” Shachi added, winking at Law.

I laughed at the teasing, enjoying the light-hearted atmosphere. Just then, Law suddenly teleported next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. His hat tilted forward, casting a shadow over his face as if to shield himself from the relentless banter of his crew.

“Don’t mind them, princess.,” he said, trying to play it off casually, though the smirk on his face betrayed his amusement. I rolled my eyes playfully.

In response, Law leaned closer, whispering softly, “At least I can hide my face while still being close to you.” He then subtly pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin. The gesture sent a delightful shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected sweetness amid all the teasing.

The crew exchanged glances, clearly noticing the moment, and Shachi raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Wow, look at you, Captain! Getting all romantic now!”

“Shut up,” Law muttered, but I could see the hint of a smile creeping onto his lips, even as he tried to maintain his usual stoic demeanor.

Bepo grinned, clearly pleased for his captain. “I think it’s sweet!” I laughed, pulling away from Law’s embrace. “I’ll see you inside, okay?” I said, placing a hand gently on his cheek and slowly gliding down to his chin, making sure to savor the moment just a bit longer.

With a playful smirk, I clenched my left hand once more and leaped into the air. “Great meeting you guys! I can’t wait to hang out more!” I called back, waving as I made my way toward Luffy.

“Well, that was fun!” I said, laughing as I joined Luffy, who wore a wide grin.

Minutes passed, and Law, along with our crew, finally stepped inside. Usopp was animatedly giving him the rundown of everything, from Sanji's arranged marriage to my own alleged engagement.

Law’s expression darkened at the mention of my supposed marriage, his brows knitting together in frustration. “What do you mean, Y/N is getting married?” he snapped, his voice low but intense.

Usopp scratched his head, looking sheepish. “Uh, well, it’s a long story, but apparently, she’s supposed to marry Ichiji from the Vinsmoke family,” he explained.

“Like hell I am!” I interjected, crossing my arms defiantly. “I won’t let anyone dictate my life like that!”

Law's gaze softened slightly as he looked at me, but the irritation was still evident in his posture. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this, Y/N. We need to figure out a way to stop it,” he said, his voice calmer now but filled with determination. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N and I are going to get Sanji and kick this Ichiji guy’s ass!” Luffy declared, grinning broadly while seated on top of Cat Viper, who looked a mix of bemused and amused.

“Do you mind if we hold off fighting Kaido a little?” Luffy asked, glancing around.

“Not really my call. Anywhere around it, Kaido is going to come for us,” Law replied, standing next to me with a serious expression. “My original plan was to hide out here in Zou for a while, but now that they know we’re here, we’re screwed. If they come back for us and invade this country, then its people will suffer, and it’ll be all our fault.”

Just then, the minks overheard, and a few of them began to shed tears. “That is so kind!” one of them exclaimed, clearly touched by Law’s concern.

Cat Viper, who had been resting, suddenly woke up with a loud declaration. “Let’s have a party! BBQ time!”

The mood instantly shifted as everyone cheered, and we began to feast on the meals provided. The smell of grilled meat filled the air, and drinks flowed freely.

“Cheers!” I said, raising my cup with a wide smile, surrounded by my friends. “Again, this is great booze,” I added, taking a long sip.

Zoro, sitting next to me with his drink in hand, smirked. “You know, if you keep enjoying it this much, you might turn into a total lush.”

I laughed, nudging him playfully with my elbow. “And what’s wrong with that? Someone has to keep the party going!”

As we all dug into the delicious food, Cat Viper brought out a massive tray of lasagna, setting it in front of us. “This is my special recipe!” he proclaimed proudly.

As I took a generous bite of the lasagna, I couldn’t help but let out a little moan of delight. “This is so yummy!” I exclaimed, savoring the flavors.

“Zoro, are you okay?” I asked, noticing he wasn’t looking at the food but at me, his gaze intense, a darker hue glinting in his eyes.

He blinked a few times, seemingly pulled from a trance. “Uh, yeah,” he replied, a slight flush creeping onto his cheeks. “I just didn’t expect that sound to come from you.”

I raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on my lips. “What, you never heard someone enjoy their food before?”

Zoro smirked, leaning a bit closer. “Not like that. You’ve got to be careful; a sound like that might give someone the wrong idea.”

“Maybe I want to give someone the right idea,” I shot back, my heart racing a little at the implication.

Time passed and I found myself settled against Zoro's chest, the warmth of his body enveloped me like a comforting blanket. The night had taken on a cheerful glow, with laughter and chatter filling the air, but as the drinks began to flow, I felt a gentle drowsiness creeping in.

"Zoro, what are you..." I started to ask, but he shushed me softly, his grip tightening around me as he pulled me closer. "Shhhh, get some rest," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that soothed me.

With the rhythmic beating of his heart echoing in my ears, I let my eyes flutter shut, my mind drifting in and out of sleep. "You know, it's kind of funny," I confessed, the wine loosening my tongue. "The way you're holding me is the same way Sabo used to hold me back when I was training."

Zoro, feeling a bit tipsy himself, chuckled softly. “Yeah? Well, Sabo’s not here now, and I’m not letting you go.” He tilted his head back slightly, allowing a lazy grin to spread across his face. “Plus, I think I’m better at it than he is.”

I couldn’t help but giggle softly, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. “Is that so?” I teased. “What makes you think that?”

He smirked, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Because I’m not just holding you for training; I’m holding you because I want to.” There was a playful confidence in his voice, and even in my drowsy state, I felt a flutter in my chest at his words.

“Is that your way of flirting, Roronoa?” I half-laughed, half-yawned, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

“Maybe it is,” he replied, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he tightened his hold, making me feel safe and cherished. “But don’t get used to it. I might just be too tired to do it again tomorrow.”

“Yeah, right,” I mumbled, already slipping into the comforting embrace of sleep. The last thing I heard before I fully succumbed to slumber was Zoro’s low chuckle, warm and reassuring, echoing in the night air.

Third person POV…

As the party continued around them, Zoro found himself enveloped in a haze of warmth and contentment, his heart beating steadily beneath Y/N’s gentle weight. The laughter and chatter of the crew were like distant echoes, a soundtrack to this rare moment of tranquility. He had always been the stoic swordsman, known for his fierce loyalty and unwavering resolve, yet here he was, cradling Y/N as if she were the most precious treasure in the world.

The soft rise and fall of her chest against his own made him acutely aware of the closeness they shared. In that cocoon of warmth, he allowed himself to let down the walls he had carefully constructed over the years. “What am I even doing?” he muttered softly to himself, a mixture of disbelief and acceptance washing over him. “This isn’t like me at all.”

Zoro’s tipsy mind spun with thoughts he rarely entertained. He thought about how Y/N had a way of breaking through his defenses, melting the ice that surrounded his heart. The way she laughed, the way she fought, and how fiercely she cared for her friends—it all drew him in like a moth to a flame.

“You’re not just some princess,” he whispered, his fingers absently tracing patterns on her back. “You’re… different.” He shook his head slightly, as if trying to shake off the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. “It’s a pain, you know?”

Yet, beneath his gruff exterior, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced down at her peaceful face. She looked so serene, lost in her dreams, and for a fleeting moment, Zoro wished he could protect that tranquility forever. “You’re going to get me killed,” he murmured, half-laughing as he recalled the danger that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

As he sat there, holding her close, the tension from earlier began to fade. His thoughts drifted back to Sabo, to the challenges they faced, and to the looming threat of the Vinsmoke family. But in this moment, none of that mattered. All that existed was the two of them, wrapped in the soft glow of lantern light and the warmth of camaraderie.

Y/N stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent that brought a grin to Zoro’s face. “What did you say?” he teased, gently shaking her. She responded with a soft sigh, nuzzling deeper into his chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he chuckled, feeling his heart swell with affection.

In that moment of vulnerability, he leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead. It was a subtle gesture, but it carried the weight of unspoken words. “I’ve got your back, you know? Always,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

Just then, Cat Viper’s booming laughter broke through the haze, and Zoro’s attention flickered momentarily to the chaos surrounding them. He watched as Luffy and the others feasted, their joy infectious, but his heart remained tethered to Y/N.

“You’re trouble, princess,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he pulled her a little closer. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He felt the heat rising in his cheeks, a testament to the alcohol coursing through him and the intoxicating pull Y/N had on his heart.

With a smirk, he pondered how this moment might look to an outsider: the fierce swordsman, often viewed as aloof and detached, holding a girl in his arms, completely lost in the experience. “What would the others think?” he mused to himself, stifling a chuckle.

But as he gazed down at Y/N, he found that he didn’t care. In this world of pirates and chaos, of battles fought and friends lost, she was his anchor, a light in the darkness that surrounded them. “You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, huh?” he whispered, a hint of amusement coloring his tone.

And with that thought, Zoro finally surrendered to the quiet, allowing sleep to take him. The sounds of the party faded into the background as he drifted off, the weight of Y/N in his arms anchoring him in a way he had never imagined possible. For tonight, he was just Zoro, the man who would do anything to keep her safe, and the man who, for the first time, dared to dream of a future where they could both be free.

[wundersmith-squall]

ramble about your Ezra Squall redemption arc please?

Absolutely- id be very happy to! I'm quite aware that im about to sound like this:

but you asked so this is what you signed up for /j

Soooooooo it basically wormed its way into my head because of the one time where Squall said something like 'We're wundersmiths we take all of the blame and none of the credit' and I was like, okay sir are you speaking from experience? What was the 'credit' of your actions? And also the mention of the shared enemy, which I at the time took as meaning partially something in the republic that threatens Nevermoor, and partially something to do with the system, the Wunderous Society and like, all the people in charge who are against wundersmiths and are trying to hold Mog back.

Along with these two things, I'd like to think that 100+ years of banishment are long enough to rethink your actions and become a better person.

So, I'll explain it in a way that wont take an entire essay to write out. Basically it goes in my head that, Courage Square was, at least partially an accident, and over 100 years the story got skewed, and the current population turned against Ezra and the Wundersmiths, while the population at the time knew how, Wundersmiths ultimately were trying to help Nevermoor. Courage Square was bad, which is why Ezra was banished, but he wasnt killed. After a tragedy, it would be expected that he'd be punished, but at the time, the Republic as we know it didnt exist, and so being banished out there was a very bad fate, but it was definitely better than death.

Ezra went through a, lot of bad mental states during the first few decades of his banishment, but as he grew older, he came to terms with both his past actions and his current situation, though he still feels guilty about it.

In my head, the Wundersmiths were originally established to protect Nevermoor from the weird creatures of the darkness that the Wunderous Society takes care of now. Those creatures are attracted to Wunder. When Ezra was banished from Nevermoor, there were no longer any Wundersmiths in there, and so WunSoc had to step up and find a way to cover for him. Meanwhile, Ezra, who still loves Nevermoor, establishes Squall Industries, partially to improve conditions in the Republic and partially to provide a bigger, brighter beacon of wunder to attract the majority of the dangerous creatures to a place where he could still handle them. In this same thought, the Hunt of Smoke and Shadow werent something he created, but a group of these dangerous creatures that he managed to tame.

On the same subject are the other cursed children, those who, gather wunder but are unfortunately dont have the gift to control it. The creatures of the darkness, who chase wunder, hunt down these children to take the wunderous energy from them, which they dont survive. Ezra does his best in this situation, but one man can only do so much, and the creatures are relentless.

When he first discovers Morrigan, he's not exactly sure what to do. He tries to just get her as an apprentice through the usual means in the republic, but after a certain mad ginger got in the way he sent the Hunt after her, himself being busy trying to help the other cursed children, but we all know that that attempt didnt work. Ezra, knowing about the wunder critical-mass gather-too-much-without-using-it-makes-bad-things-happen thing, so he used the gossamer to get back into Nevermoor.

Having to enter and view Nevermoor again, even though not physically, took a bit of a toll on him, plus having to interact with someone new while being himself, which is not something he's had to do in a long time. He's also never, had to teach anyone before.

From there, I imagine he goes from frustrated and angry, to irritated but starting to get attached to Mog, to actually being a genuinely good teacher (aka the floof you saw in my drawing, who doesnt sleep nearly enough but still tries his best to be a good person), who is Tired™ and also just as chaotic as Jupiter when he wants to be.

Thank you for listening to my ramble- I can happily expand on anything if anyone happens to like this train of thought. I have further specifics on, basically everything, but this is a solid overview.

[mothervonmayhem]

Battle of the Bands

Hobie, Miguel, Gabriel, Gwen and 1st person pov OC / MC

New Adult magical realism AU (obvi) brain worm that has grown from a 2-shot screenplay for some fun comics into a monster. This fic is like Tremors in my brain.

The summer before college MC, Gabriel O'Hara, and Miguel O'Hara go on an international road trip with their metal band, Neon Requiem. Destination? BandFest, the Battle of the Bands in London guaranteed to secure the winning band a record deal. They meet other ATSV characters along the way.

No mention of Y/N / Reader, written from 1st person POV. Self-insertion is made easier by fewer details about the MC.

Notes on language: Tried my best here, if you are a native speaker of French, let me know if the MC's French is unnatural and I will love you forever.

Romance, angst, and poorly understood music concepts are often written as having a distinct visual component because I am an artist first. <

@pinksugarscrub @the-kr8tor I DID THE THING!

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

Chapter 1 - “Vous êtes maître de votre vie et de vos émotions, ne l’oubliez jamais. Pour le meilleur et pour le pire”

The Rusty Nail's neon whir and raucous rhythms had been muted to a melancholy hum that evening, it was a ghost town, the emptiness of the dimly lit bar echoing with decades of unfulfilled longings. I nursed my drink, letting the smoky burn of liquor etch contours of quiet contemplation onto my throat as I surveyed the handful of kindred souls keeping solemn vigil. Life had been feeling heavy, and I needed to write, to make art, and to get lost in music.

At the far end of the bar hunched a beautiful wraith, his slim, angular frame sheathed in torn denim and studded leather. Something indefinable shimmered around him, unsung poetry, snippets of melodies, a symphony I could see and hear and almost touch. Drawn like a moth to the lambent glow of the music, I slid onto the stool beside the ethereal punk spectre. In my mind's eye, I crowned him the prince of punk, a fairy tale rebel.

Our bodies brushed intimately in the cramped space, raising ghosts of sensation along the exposed skin of my fishnets. "Wozzat, luv?" he murmured, kohl-rimmed eyes flickering over the point of contact with a soldering heat.

Mon dieu, {My God} Had I spoken my admiration aloud? A flush crept up my cheeks as I scrambled for a response.

"Désolé. Je répétais quelque chose pour ne pas l'oublier… Need to write it down before I lose it," {Sorry. I was repeating something so I wouldn't forget it…} I mumbled, a flimsy excuse for my wandering mind.

Fumbling through my bag ,I pulled out my tattered notebook, fingers trembling as I scribbled down a scrap of verse inspired by the punk's incandescent presence beside me. I scribbled my observations in hasty strokes. The dying light of day bled into night, a liminal space that begged for a soundtrack. I could almost hear it, a melody just out of reach, shimmering in the smoky air.

"The liminal light of late afternoon, yawning into early evening…" I muttered, pulling on the strings of the melody, trying to draw it back to me. "I don't want to be loved for the things that I don't do. I don't want to be just a pretty face, I want to be a work of art…We are all just works of art."

The jukebox fell silent, making my mutterings around sift and strange, slightly unhinged---but the punk prince remained---his gaze heavy on my skin. I met his stare, unflinching. Unabashed curiosity flickered in eyes, wide brown and doe-like, framed by lashes so lush they seemed to blur the line between masculine and feminine, earthly and ethereal. I found myself dizzied by warring impulses - to flee this unsettling intimacy, or be consumed by it wholly.

He was a changeling, gorgeously androgynous: part punk Mona Lisa with a Cheshire cat grin, part Jean-Michel Baptiste, part force-of-fucking-nature. He made me feel like a background character in his story, could be a punk fairy princess, and I would be the dragon. My thoughts raced, fragments of poetry and half-formed desires. I scribbled faster, chasing the threads of inspiration, but a nudge from my prince brought me back to earth.

Snatches of poetry, raw and unfinished, that I urgently longed to refine on the page before they dissipated like the last wisps of smoke in a spent ashtray. But the punk's aura dragged me too deeply into devotional reverie. I glanced up apologetically as my concentration scattered, the thread of inspiration slipping through my fingers once more.

The bartender had sprouted up directly in front of me, and she eyed me expectantly. Her hair was a shock of blue curls and silver streaks shorn close to her scalp, it made her eyes seem more gray. Her skin etched with lines that mapped out the years like a roadmap. I felt the familiar pang of a poem lost to the ether.

"Un…Jack Daniel's, s'il vous plaît," {A…Jack Daniel's, please} I said, no longer able to filter its lilt from my words, as I wasn't paying attention to dulling it.

"Blimey, that's a proper choice, innit? You 'ere for the battle of the bands event this week, love?"

"Oui, how did you know?" {Yes, how did you know?}

"Just a…sense," he demurred with a wicked grin. "Call it a punk's intuition, darling. I'm in the mix too, y'know."

The bartender chuckled as she set my drink down. "You mean because everyone is here for Bandfest? Don't listen to this one, lovey, he's incorrigible. The crowds will be in later on, but you're a bit early."

"Shh, Roz. Who's up tonight?" The prince asked, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Oh, you want insider information? What's in it for me?"

"Givin' away free tattoos, could autograph yer arm, love."

"I'll pass, thanks. The brackets are up in an hour anyway. It's Night Terrors vs. Death Rapture, Blood Prophecy vs. Cherry Bomb, Spider Punks vs. Neon Requiem…"

"Why are the punk bands going up against the metal bands?" I asked, just as the prince inquired about Phantom Pulse.

"There wasn't a lot of quality competition this year, or that's what the sponsors said, so they automatically advance to the semifinals since they won last year."

"Bollocks!" The prince cried, his outrage palpable.

"Oi Punk, you don't want to sign with Vic Luna at Zenith Music Group, anyway."

"Tu…ne le fais pas? Mais pourquoi?" {You…don't? But why?} The words tumbled out, my curiosity getting the better of me. At her blank stare, I repeated the question in English, heat rising to my cheeks.

Roz leaned in, her voice low, "Look kid, it's complicated…"

The prince rolled his eyes, a sneer playing at his lips. "Betrayed a lot of good bands."

"You don't need to remind me, Punk, I lived through it. Despite the changes at Zenith Music Group, they still organize the annual Bandfest, which showcases both established and emerging talent in the punk and metal scenes. The event is highly respected within the community and provides a platform for bands to gain exposure and connect with fans," the bartender continued, her words stilted, rehearsed.

"Ay, and they are the sponsor bringing in your crowds." The prince's voice was sharp, laced with an emotion I couldn't quite place.

"The only time we're out of the red, punkass. We'd have to shut down if it weren't for the Battle." She said heavily, "Which is the greater evil, we are a place of refuge for several members of the community, not just you."

"You don't need to remind me Roz, I'm living through it. Right, I'll stop ragging on the corporate sods for now, until you have some plausible deniability." He raised his hands in mock surrender, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

"There's a good Punk." Roz smiled, sliding him another pint before retreating.

I made a mental note to warn my bandmates about Vic and Zenith's sordid history. We were in this for the music, not the money, no one played metal for the money--but it never hurt to be cautious.

"Roz is like the den mother of the London punk scene, a living testament to grit and resilience, and screaming yourself hoarse at basement shows. Dream t'be like her when I grow up. To listen without judgment, offer advice without preaching, and know when to slide a shot of whiskey across the bar and when to cut you off. She has a way of looking at you, really seeing you, like you matter… like you are more than just another face in the crowd." His voice trails off, heavy with emotion. He blinks and shakes it off.

"Can I see it?" The prince's voice cut through our lost thoughts, his fingers reaching for my notebook.

I clutched it to my chest, a knee-jerk reaction. "Can you look into my very soul, like Roz?"

His smirk widened, that Cheshire cat grin that set my heart racing. He nodded, a challenge in his eyes.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he purred, and I felt my stomach flip. I repeated the phrase in my mind, first in French, then in English, just to be sure I'd heard him right. Wasn't this some flirty idiom?

"You have a book of poetry somewhere hidden in those skinny jeans, mon ami?" {my friend?} I ask, hesitant, double-checking his meaning. He flirts like others breathe.

In lieu of an answer, he produced a sharpie from thin air. Before I could protest, he had my arm in his grasp, his touch electric against my skin. I shrugged off my leather jacket, baring my arms to his ink-stained fingers. Roz chuckled as she set another drink before me, clearly amused by the prince's antics.

"You'll need it…I see you took this wanker up on the free tattoo offer. Don't let him draw any on your arms."

"Any? …Any what?"

"Wankers," she clarified with a laugh. It clarifies nothing, I need to study my British slang.

"I would not mar the flesh of such a beautiful and willing participant, Roz. Kindly fuck off," the prince mumbled around the sharpie cap clenched between his teeth.

Between the verses he scrawled, he peppered me with questions, his voice a giddy whisper.

"So, who's your poison, love? Which bands get your motor runnin'?"

"Ah, j'adore Rammstein, Gojira, et bien sûr, Motörhead. And so many others, doesn't even scratch the surface. Et toi?" {Ah, I love Rammstein... And you?}

"Proper choices, those. For me, it's the classics - Sex Pistols, The Clash, Buzzcocks. Real raw, in-your-face stuff, y'know?"

I leaned in, excited, but too close. I nearly jumped as my lips grazed the dusky shell of his ear. "Ah, un homme de bon goût! I've seen the Buzzcocks live, you know. Pure chaos, c'était incroyable!" {Ah, a man of good taste! I've seen the Buzzcocks live, you know. Pure chaos, it was incredible!}

"No bleedin' way! Metal chick like you? I'd give me left bollock to have seen the Sex Pistols live. But I did catch The Clash back in '07. Changed me life, it did."

"Lemmy, sans aucun doute. The man's a legend!" {Lemmy, without a doubt.} I declare into the bar.

"Oi, don't go disrespectin' Johnny, now! The bloke's a punk icon, 'e is!"

"You're a punk icon!" someone shouted from the back, but the prince waved them off with a grin.

"Oh, I didn't catch your name," I said, with a sudden shame, my brow furrowed.

"Everyone just calls me Punk. You can too. Just not dirty punk, we don't want to come to blows, do we, love?"

"I'd kick your ass, mon ami. Pas grand chose à donner, mon petit prince des fées… eh mon prince dégingandé, right? I would not describe you as petite even if you are skinny." {I'd kick your ass, my friend. Not much to give, my little fairy prince… eh my lanky prince, right?}

Miguel was at my side in an instant, all rippling muscle and furrowed consternation. "Carnalita, {little sis} why did you sneak out on practice just to drink in this hellhole?" he rumbled, disapproval lacing every sonorous word. Tenderness faded a bit.

I met his gruff chiding with an insouciant toss of my hair. "Salut, Miguel. Ça fait longtemps." {Hello, Miguel. It's been a while.}

"Is that Jack? No puedo mas… Carnalita…This shit is bad for you." {I can't take it anymore…little sis...}

"Je nais etre rond comme une queue de pelle. Tu es vraiment un trou de balle quand tu dis des choses pareilles!" {I would be round as a shovel handle. (Idiom, essentially she is saying ~ I was born to be drunk) You are really a dumbass when you say things like that!}

Miguel's grumbling stream of Spanish reprimands washed over me as I settled into our familiar dynamic - the tender yet terse cantata of friend and protector that had composed them score of our relationship since childhood. For all his bluster, I knew every arrhythmic cadence encoded Miguel's steadfast affection.

Only Gabriel's soft interjection could salve the rising discord. "You worry too much, Miggy. We've been practicing all week."

He cast me a plaintive glance, silently pleading for conciliation, and I grudgingly obliged with an internal eyeroll. "Qu'il aille se faire! C'est vraiment chiant tu te rends compte." {Let him go fuck himself! It's really annoying, you know.}

Heedless of my saucy french asides, Miguel merely drew a fortifying breath before continuing in that maddening timbre of unrelenting reason. "Gabri and I could have come out with you. You shouldn't go out alone in an unknown city - it's not safe for you, mi carnalita."

The prince leaned towards us with a lazy smirk, "S'not that serious. The Rusty Nail is safe enough." He paused as the bartender snorted in agreement before continuing, "We're keeping the lady safe, mate…you can trust me, I'm one of the Spider-Punks."

Miguel simply sneered at the prince's proffered handshake, dismissing it out of hand. "You have arms like sticks. How would you keep her safe?"

The punk's smirk widened as he shrugged. "Ah, one of those. Never skip leg day, eh bruv?"

I strangled a guffaw as Gabriel hastened to run interference, engulfing the punk's hand eagerly. "We've heard of you guys, the local punk band, yeah? Your drummer is…gahh…Ah-Mazing! You think we could meet?"

"You call that punk noise "rock"?" Miguel scoffed. "Metal is where the real skill lies…Real talent is in the complexity, the technical skill. Metal pushes boundaries, takes you to new places. Punk's just three chords and an attitude."

I rolled my eyes. At this rate, I'd have to drag Miguel out before he started a brawl.

"Ah, mais non, Miggy. There's art in simplicity too. Punk, metal, it's all about the energy, the message, non?" {Ah, but no, Miggy. There's art in simplicity too. Punk, metal, it's all about the energy, the message, right?}

Miguel grunted, but squeezed my hand.

I stood, motioning for him to lean in close. "Allez, let's save the competition for the stage, d'accord? I learned some things about the record company. We should talk in private." {Come on, let's save the competition for the stage, okay?}

The prince unfolded himself, towering over me. "Tell you what, mate. Let's settle this on stage. We'll let the crowd decide who's got the real chops," he challenged.

Gabriel chimed in, "Pero, mana's right, Miguel." {But, sister is right, Miguel.}

Miguel looked ready to explode, but Gabriel's eyes held him in check.

"Music's music. Let's just focus on putting on a good show, and maybe we can learn something from their band, eh?" Gabriel said.

The prince leaned in, lips grazing my cheek. "Aye, love. Can't wait to teach your wall of meat here a thing or two. How about we give 'em a show they won't forget…later?"

I grinned, "Oui! A collaboration? Here… Ça ne casse pas trois pattes à un canard…mais, pour vous. I want it back later." {Yes! A collaboration? Here…It doesn't break three duck legs (Idiom ~ It's nothing special) …but, for you. I want it back later.}

The lanky punk sauntered off, his studded boots leaving faint trails of glitter on the barroom floor. Miguel's scowl deepened as he watched him depart, fists clenched tightly.

"Is that your poetry notebook?" he growled, voice rumbling low.

"Yes, I traded it to the punk faerie for these tattoos, I smirked, revealing the vine-like scrawl of ink now adorning my flesh like raised scars from whipping brambles.

Miguel's face darkened further, storm clouds gathering at my words. "The one you never let anyone touch or read…"

His voice strangled to a whisper, and I could not parse the complex calculus of emotions flitting behind his eyes

Gabriel placed a calming hand on his brother's arm.

"Easy, hermano {brother}. He's not worth it," Gabriel said in a soothing tone.

"Be nice, Punk is a good guy. I like him," I countered softly, a warm glow blossomed within me as I realized my entire arm was now a crawling garden of sentences entirely in French.

Miguel opened his mouth, undoubtedly to unleash a heated retort, but Gabriel cut in, "Should we go look at the brackets to see who we're facing?"

"It looks like my entire arm is covered with quotes from The Little Prince, which happens to be my favorite book. It's actually quite a sweet gesture," I said softly, fingertips grazing the raised words like treasured runes.

With renewed curiosity, I examined the ink quote now etched on my skin: "Vous êtes maître de votre vie et de vos émotions, ne l'oubliez jamais. Pour le meilleur et pour le pire." {You are the master of your life and your emotions, never forget that. For better or worse.}

I didn't mention the lone scrawl that could have been a phone number hidden amidst the literary foliage now vining my limb. Miguel was in full-on Dad mode, and I didn't need to add fuel to that particular fire.

"I already know the competition for the quarterfinals, we don't need to waste our time. Come on, manos {used as slang for brother}, we're going to kick some ass!" I giggled brightly, elated at my new 'tattoos' scrawling up my arms. I didn't put my leather jacket back on, I didn't want to cover any of it up.

Miguel's glare never wavered, his eyes fixed on the far side of the bar where the prince had disappeared into the crowd. "Don't tempt me. Let's go, carnalita {little sister}, time for practice."

With a resigned sigh, I surrendered to my brothers' insistent tugs, allowing them to lead me from the Rusty Nail. But the punk prince's parting words still reverberated through my mind like the lingering notes of a siren song. Later, he had purred, that single hushed syllable seeming to contain all the intoxicating lure of a siren's call - equal parts velvet promise and brazen challenge, twined inextricably into an enchantment I could not resist. The whole damn bar was a sailor's nightmare.