#something about trifle

[pratchettquotes]

"It would be a terrible thing, would it not, if people thought they could take the law into their own hands..."

"Oh, no fear of that, sir. I'm holding tightly to it."

Lord Vetinari plunked the axe again. "Tell me, Sir Samuel, do you know the phrase 'Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?'?"

It was an expression Carrot occasionally used, but Vimes was not in the mood to admit anything. "Can't say that I do, sir," he said. "Something about trifle, is it?"

"It means, 'Who guards the guards themselves?' Sir Samuel."

"Ah."

"Well?"

"Sir?"

"Who watches the Watch? I wonder."

"Oh, that's easy, sir. We watch one another."

"Really? An intriguing point..."

Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay

[ghoultrifle]

transmasc aether finally getting top surgery after years of being unable to bind because of his back pain.

waking up to his entire pack, from omega to aurora, standing at his bedside, huge smiles plastered over their faces. and he knows, instantly, he made the right decision. any doubts he had melt away as he looks down to the mess of bandages and drains surrounding his swollen chest.

in the coming months he works with omega on fixing his posture, letting his shoulders roll back instead of forwards, jutting his chest out and finally allowing himself to breathe, to let his lungs fill fully with air that feels just that bit more fresh than before.

aether works on scar care with rain. despite working in the infirmary himself, he finds the water ghoul much more knowledgeable about exactly how to get the scars to fade. and it's not that he's ashamed of the thick, red scars adorning his torso; ribbons tied up around his ribs with the gift of a flat chest beneath. no. he wants them to heal so he can let cirrus tattoo even larger, more stylised, scars over the top.

because he's not afraid to be himself, to be a beacon of pride for all to see. and to show his trans siblings that things will always get better.

[blood-mocha-latte]

those photos of the band of brothers cast behind the scenes always make me laugh because they remind me so much of working night and twenty four hr shifts

[neriyon]

Watching the festivities

Yulan ⏐ Hawu'li ⏐ Chili ⏐ Einn ⏐ Naho ⏐ N'jinh ⏐ TBA

[saturngalore]

i love black people…the amount of folding chair jokes and memes i have seen over the past couple of days is so 😭

[dewedup]

gloom i need to know more about uni au pleaseeeee

yes yes yes ok so i posted a ficlet a while ago about a raindrop uni au that i ended up overthinking and deleted, but then @jesusbutbetterrr asked me about it and that they couldn't find it and i had to admit that i'd burned it from existence and have been reworking it into something bigger and better

here's a little taste below the cut, if it sounds familiar than you might have saw it in the few days i had it posted on here 😇

"Hey, Dew, you down to go to the dining room?" Swiss asks as he slings his backpack over one shoulder, tossing a wink at the sister of sin he catches staring at his biceps. Which, Dew can't blame her, Swiss is pretty hot, and Dew can admit that in a totally bro way. They’ve been best friends since elementary school, pledged the same fraternity and even had their first threesome with the head of Kappa Mu. 

“Nah sorry, I got to go work on my media project for Secondo so I’m gonna head to the library. I’ll meet up with you in music theory, save me a spot yeah?” After an affirmative nod from his friend, Dew heads the opposite way down the corridor, finding the lab surprisingly empty. He sets up camp in the back corner, pulling up his document from his junk drive and starts to edit before a notification from his phone distracts him. It’s just a comment from Aether on one of their mutual friend’s Instasin pictures that Dew had also commented on. But, then he remembers Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome and gets a little curious. After a quick search of Aether’s profile bares no results, Dew pulls up the browser on his computer, opening up Ghoulbook. 

No results found of Reign

Dew curses under his breath, sure that was what the professor had called his mystery ghoul. He’d take the search to Aether’s friends, but he hadn’t accepted his friend request when he’d sent it last semester and would have to send Aether a new request before he could even start looking for Reign.

A throat clears behind him and Dew freezes, feeling the shameful blush gathering in his chest and swiftly climbing up his throat to paint his cheeks a rosy red. 

“It’s actually spelled R-A-I-N, but I see where you were going with the pronunciation." Dew would rather crawl into an actual hole in the bottom of the pit right now. Of course, this ghoul even has a sexy voice, the monotone coming across bored, but he can hear the slight amusement laced beneath it. Not one to stop when the proverbial foot is already in his mouth, Dew takes a deep breath, picking up whatever pride he has left, and turns to the Econ Incubus. 

“The spelling’s just a formality, at least I would have screamed it the right way,” And it’s so worth it, the way Rain swallows audibly, his cheeks reddening to a third of Dew’s current heated complexion. 

[maryasmorevna]

the fact that i had accidentally created a similar magic system to full metal alchemist (with even a similar motivation for the male antihero - that is, bringing someone back from the dead, with horrifying consequences) before i even watched one episode of the show is extremely funny to me ngl

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Beneath a Dragon's Gaze

Summary: With Madame Sylvi indisposed on the evening Prince Aemond comes to visit, he requests someone different | Word Count: 1.7k~ | Warnings: sex work, smut, hair pulling, biting, titty sucking, darkish Aemond

A/N: saw ep 3 and felt silly 😁 not proofread an inch

“The Prince has asked for you.”

She could not help the wide-eyed look and the familiar flipping of her stomach, now feeling entirely different with the words that had come from her fellow woman’s lips. The Prince. Well, it could have meant either of them only weeks before, but no longer. They frequented this establishment quite often, as an upper-class brothel, with only the finest whores and service, it was only natural, and they had the coin to pay for it.

Suddenly, she felt quite cold in the sheer dress she had chosen that evening, doing very little to conceal the flesh that hid beneath, her nipples having formed peaks against the satin. What could she possibly say to that? There was no possibility of refusing. 

“Very well,” she responded, knowing it was not her place to question. There was no question as to which now, it was most certainly the very same who frequented for the warm embrace and soothing voice of Madame Sylvi, who spent hours in her company and paid her a hefty price for it. For secrecy. But she knew just as well that the only reason Aemond had requested her instead, was because on this night, his usual appointment was indisposed. 

Her heart raced as she slalomed through the scantily clad crowd, each step bringing her closer to the corner where the prince awaited. The halls were dimly lit, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows that danced along the walls, alongside those of curved figures, twisted with pleasure. She could hear the muted sounds of such from the other rooms, but they did little to quell the nervousness that gripped her.

When she reached the curtain, she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The Prince. Aemond Targaryen. Known for his fierce demeanour and sharp intellect, he was not a man to be trifled with. Yet, beneath that cold exterior, she had heard whispers of a man burdened by the weight of his family.

Sliding the curtain across, met with the Prince, eyepatch already discarded and down only to his breeches, sat with cup in hand on the plush settee, his lone eye raising to her as she dipped for a curtsy. She felt her throat close at the sight of the sapphire, somewhat mirroring what was happening between her thighs.

"Madame Sylvi sends her apologies, my prince. She is unable to attend to you this evening."

Aemond's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she felt her cheeks flush under his scrutiny. "I did not call for Sylvi tonight," he said finally, his tone giving nothing away. "I called for you."

Her lips parted to question. But she dare not let the words free. She was not one to ask about his intentions, a mere whore.

“Undress.”

The Prince’s eye never wavered as he watched, flesh revealed as she bared herself to him. He stood as if uncurling himself, finishing what was left in his cup before moving his hands to unlace his breeches, his head gesturing to the settee.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

His commanding tone made those flutters awaken once more. She had been employed at this establishment for so long, of course being naked and bared to an abundance of men was second nature. But there was something about the way he wanted her, the way it seemed not spurred by desire of any kind, but a need, like air, that ignited her nerves that she had not felt since her first few days in this line of work.

Still, bare arsed and exposed to a Prince, was a different matter entirely.

She felt his presence behind her, knowing he was naked as his thighs brushed against hers. He nudged her knees apart and pushed gently on her spine, encouraging her to arch her back. Though she could not see his face, the rippled design of the copper in front of her reflected enough for her to sense the detachment in his actions. So, she remained silent.

Prince Aemond guided himself to her centre, barely wet, and pushed his cockhead inside. He had barely breached her when his hands gripped the flesh of her buttocks, watching intently as his cock slowly slid deeper into her cunt, being swallowed by her body. She closed her eyes, the lack of preparation making the act more uncomfortable than pleasurable, but she hoped that with time, her arousal would ease the discomfort.

As Prince Aemond continued to push himself inside her, she focused on her breathing, trying to relax her body and ease the discomfort. The room was silent except for their breaths, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced on the walls. Each inch he gained felt like a stretch, a challenge to her body's readiness, but she bit her lip, determined to endure.

His hands, firm on her buttocks, began to knead her flesh, his grip alternating between gentle caresses and possessive squeezes. The friction built steadily, her body slowly acclimating to his presence. The initial pain started to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and the stirrings of pleasure.

Aemond moved with a deliberate pace, his thrusts measured and controlled. He seemed intent on watching every inch of his cock as it disappeared inside her, his breathing heavy and laboured. She could feel his intensity, the way he held back his own urges to maintain that slow, torturous rhythm.

Despite the initial discomfort, her arousal began to build. Her body responded to his movements, her inner walls slickening and accommodating his length with increasing ease. Soft moans escaped her lips, unbidden but honest, as pleasure began to mix with the remnants of pain.

Aemond's hands slid from her buttocks to her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, hitting spots inside her that sent jolts of pleasure through her body. Her fingers clenched the sheets beneath her, seeking some anchor as the sensations intensified.

He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear. "Do you feel that?" he murmured, his voice husky and edged with restraint. "Do you feel how you take me in?"

"Yes, my prince," she gasped, her voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "I feel it."

Aemond's pace quickened slightly, his control slipping as his own desire took precedence. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, a rhythmic, primal music that spoke of need and release. Her moans grew louder, her body arching and pushing to meet his thrusts, seeking the pleasure that now consumed her.

With a sudden, possessive grip, Aemond's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck. His lips found her skin, teeth grazing lightly before he bit down, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to claim. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, her body responding with an involuntary clench around his cock.

He groaned against her neck, the sound vibrating through her. "Take me, all of me," he whispered, his voice filled with approval and satisfaction. 

She surrendered to the sensations, her body melting into his as pleasure overwhelmed her. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word from Aemond drove her closer to the edge. The discomfort was a distant memory now, replaced by a wave of ecstasy that built with each passing second. His movements so erratic, his stones clapped against her womanhood with every harsh push, slapping against her bud in a steady, unyielding rhythm.

The sensation pushed her over the edge, her own climax washing over her in a powerful, all-consuming wave. She cried out, her body convulsing around him, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Finally, with a deep, guttural moan, Aemond drove himself to the hilt inside her once more, his body shuddering and then withdrawing quickly as he found his release and coated her buttocks and thighs with his pearly spend.

They stayed like that for a moment, both catching their breath, their bodies still joined. Slowly, Aemond released his grip on her hair and hips, his hands soothing over the marks he'd left. He pulled out of her velvety walls gently, leaving her feeling both spent and fulfilled.

She expected him to leave, to gather his clothes and slip away into the night, as most men often do with a flick of their coin into her lap. But instead, Aemond surprised her. He curled into her body, his head resting against her chest. His lips found her breast, mouthing at her skin with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of their earlier encounter. His hand moved to her other breast, caressing it with a gentle, almost reverent touch.

She looked down at him, her fingers threading through his silver, moonlit hair. He seemed to take more pleasure in this simple intimacy than she did, as if seeking comfort rather than mere satisfaction. His eyes were closed, his breathing steadying as he continued to nuzzle her chest.

"I hate it," he murmured after a long silence, his voice muffled against her skin.

She blinked, unsure of his meaning. "Hate what, my prince?"

Aemond shifted slightly, his hand stilling on her breast. "Sometimes, I think Madame Sylvi just says anything to appease me. She tells me what she thinks I want to hear, not what she truly believes."

There was a bitterness in his tone that caught her off guard. "Why do you think that?" she asked softly, her thumb stroking the back of his neck.

Aemond's grip on her breast tightened slightly, and she felt a shiver of unease. His lips brushed against her nipple, then his teeth grazed it, sending a jolt through her body. "Because it's easier for her," he said, his voice lower, more dangerous. "Because I'm a prince, and she fears offending me."

She gasped softly at the sensation, the mix of pleasure and pain reminding her of the precarious balance between comfort and control. "But you deserve honesty, my prince," she managed to say, her voice trembling.

He bit down a little harder, enough to make her wince. "Do I?" he asked, his tone a warning. "Or do I deserve the truth, no matter how it feels?"

Her heart raced, the threat in his words unmistakable. "The truth, my prince," she whispered, trying to maintain her composure. "Always the truth."

Aemond's teeth released her nipple, his tongue soothing the sting. He looked up at her, his eye fierce and unyielding. The sapphire lodged in the other piercing and dark. 

"Good," he said, his voice a soft growl. "Because I have no patience for lies, no matter how pretty they are."

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @primonizzutto

@qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: angst, toxic traits, somewhat bullying, breakup

♡ FEM reader

You’re his first girlfriend. He’d never bothered with anything serious before—it seemed too messy to trifle with. He doesn’t know why he suddenly decided. Suppose he’d been feeling a little bored, and something within him saw you as a fool-proof opportunity.

It wasn’t because you were anything special. Actually, it was more the opposite. You didn’t seem like too big of a risk. You were just a normal, honest, nice person—a bit of a loser, too, if he was being honest. He could do a lot better and pick someone of the same caliber as him, someone with a cooler style and presence, but then he’d only get caught up in the competition.

You were more to his appetite—a dorky, blushy lil’ nerd who giggled nervously at everything he said. In other words, no competition at all. You’d never dare break his heart because you frankly couldn’t afford it. And he found solace in that imbalance—knowing he held all the cards and that you could only be grateful he’d chosen you.

At least, that had been what he’d thought. But then, here you are, holding his hands from across the table in a cute little sundae café, telling him how this just can’t work anymore.

He’s confused for a whole minute before it sinks in.

You’re breaking up with him.

He’s confused afterward, too.

You’re breaking up with him?

That can’t be right. You must be joking. He almost laughs, almost cackles, but ends up staying completely silent. Something about that pitiful look in your eye makes his throat tight, and he almost thinks he’s going to cry instead. 

You’re breaking up with him. You, with him. His foot starts to tap. Have you hit your head or something? You’re dressed in a hoodie, for crying out loud, with not an ounce of make-up on—effortless, as if his perception of you wasn’t any of your concern while you’re fucking breaking up with him.

No way. There’s just no way. You must be confused about something, is all. There’s absolutely no way you’re doing this.

“What are you talking about?” It comes angry. Louder than he’d intended, enough to make you jolt in your seat. A couple of heads even turn your way. You wait for them to turn back before answering.

“I just think we’re a bit too different. And… I don’t know…” You were trying to find ways of telling him you weren’t in love with him but ended up deciding it was unnecessary—it wasn’t exactly something he needed to hear even though you had a lot you could say.

You’re rude and arrogant and treat me like some rescue pet you’ve nurtured back to health. You act like you’re embarrassed to be with me even though you’re the one without any friends. You’re selfish and spoiled and—

“If you don’t know, then there’s nothing to talk about. Quit being silly.” He has a furrow between his brows as he picks up the pink menu between the two of you, scanning the different types of milkshakes you could share and forget all about it. After all, you weren’t breaking up with him—that would just be absurd. “Let’s get strawberry.”

“No—”

“Guess we could get mango if you want that instead—”

“I’m not sharing drinks with you—”

“What? You tryna lose weight or something? Not like anyone but me is gonna see you when all you wear are those baggy hoodies all the time. Speaking of which, you should wear mine instead, they’d suit you better—”

“Listen.” You stop his rambling. “I’m not sharing drinks, and I’m not wearing your clothes. I’m not being silly, either. I’m being serious. It’s over—”

“No, it’s not.” His fist bangs against the table—the look in his eye on edge and twitchy. “I asked you why, and you had no good reason—so it’s not, not until you convince me.”

You had wanted to avoid it, but it seems he wouldn’t allow you the grace to spare him. That being said, you hadn’t meant to be so brutally honest…

“You’re a narcissist. You don’t treat me like a girlfriend. I’m more like a charity case or some type of experiment to you. Half the time, it feels as though you’re just playing a game with everyone in your life like pawns for you to shuffle around the board as you see fit.” You’re the one with the furrowed brows now, unable to bite your tongue as you’d kept it in all this time. “I think you should seek help and get your controlling tendencies straightened out before having any type of relationship. Or don’t. In any case, I don’t think I’m the right girl for you.”

There’s a silence. The chatter of the café seems distant. You feel half inclined to apologize as you look at him and stare down the glassy tabletop as if trying to find his reflection for comfort—but then he beats you to the punch.

“You’re right…” he starts softly, mustering the words, and you’re almost proud to see him take it so well, but then there’s a viscousness to his next words. “You’re not the right girl for me.”

When he looks up again, his face is warped—callous and seemingly disgusted by the sight of you. Something about it even seems to lash out at you, seeking revenge.

“I can’t believe I thought I saw something in you,” he sighs. “Turns out you’re exactly what everyone warned me you would be—just a plane-boring old Jane. What a joke—wasting so much time on something so worthless. Forget breaking up with me, I should have broken up with you a long time ago.”

He gets up in a rush and bears over the table, both palms laid flat upon the surface.

“Charity case?” he seethes, then conjures a fake laugh and an even faker grin. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Enjoy sitting here alone like the loser you are.”

And even though you’re the one watching him walk away while ordering a chocolate sundae for yourself, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy… 

That had been the most emotion you’d ever witnessed come from him.

Obviously, he doesn’t take it very well, stumbling through the café before bursting out the door, but even he’s surprised by how disheveled it had made him. He’s hyperventilating when the fresh air hits him, almost sprinting to his car so that he can lock himself inside it.

But the car only makes it worse as he’s far from alone in there. You’re everywhere. On the hood, waiting for him with a smile. In the rearview mirror, waving at him. In the seat next to him with a pout, asking if you can stay over. In the backseat, naked with a coy twinkle in your eye.

He knows! He has some of your underwear at home—he’ll threaten to pass them around campus unless you beg him to take you back. No, what’s he thinking!? You’ll never come back to him that way. Fuck, what can he do, what’s he supposed to do!? He just called you worthless—what that fuck was he thinking?!

The tears startle him as they drip down and splash upon his whitening knuckles, where he grips the wheel for dear life even as the car stays completely still—safe and sound in the same plot.

There’s a light pink lip balm on the dash. Yours. You must have left it there—maybe on purpose? No… you don’t play games like that. You’d been honest in the café. The fact terrifies him—his heart seems to want to reject it at all costs, the way it tears in his chest.

He picks the slim pink stick up and rolls it around in his hand, which can’t seem to stop shaking. You’d sat on his lap in this very seat, laughing at something dumb he’d said while applying the very same balm on his lip—kissing his forehead while saying something sweet. He knows it wasn’t, but he imagines you’d whispered that you loved him.

When he smears the balm around his lips this time, he imagines kissing you and your soft lips and that everpresent smile he never bothered telling you was pretty.

He’s such an idiot. The birds in the parking lot take flight at the jostling of his car, but no one hears the roar.

And as he sits there in the following silence, wallowing in his own self-pity and regret, he can’t help but feel like the lead of some angsty teen romance.

And like the lead in an angsty teen romance, he swears… whatever it takes… he will win you back.

You will be his again.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Gojo, Naoya, some young type of Sukuna, or Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ AOT – Eren

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[tender-rosiey]

What about sukuna with his shy babygirl when reader goes away for a week and hes left alone to take care of her?

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOUR SUKUNA WITH HIS SHY BABYY

silence speaks — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: my favorite duo ever and this is really centered around them cuz they so cute but you do make multiple appearances also BIGGGGGG thanks to @bluebell33 for beta-reading <33

sukuna rarely concerns himself with trifles. the great and feared king of curses has no patience for the mundane.

yet, when it comes to his daughter—his little, bashful shadow—he finds himself tackling challenges he never imagined, especially now that you’ve gone to visit your ill mother for the week.

and left him alone with her.

you had reassured him it would be fine, and he had sneered at the implication that he couldn’t manage a child for a mere seven days.

but now he finds himself cursing you as he stares down the wide-eyed girl standing in the middle of the courtyard.

she’s clutching her favorite stuffed fox, her tiny fingers squeezing the fabric tightly as if it’s her only anchor in the world.

her big eyes flit up to him and then dart away just as quickly, cheeks pinkening as she retreats into herself, the same way she always does when the world feels too big.

sukuna huffs, scratching the back of his head. “what?” he grumbles, his voice rough, but she doesn’t flinch.

not anymore. she’s long since grown used to his tone, his presence, his towering frame. still, she doesn’t answer, only fiddles with the hem of her little kimono.

he exhales sharply through his nose. “if you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

her lips purse into a small pout, and her voice comes out barely above a whisper. “...hungry.”

of course.

sukuna crosses his arms, his four hands resting against his broad chest as he glances toward the kitchen.

he knows how to prepare a meal in theory—he’s watched you do it countless times—but actually doing it? for her?

“fine. sit,” he commands, gesturing toward the veranda.

she shuffles over without a word, sitting cross-legged with her fox in her lap, her gaze following his every movement like he’s some kind of unapproachable deity—which, to most, he is.

the kitchen is uncomfortably quiet without you bustling about in it.

sukuna’s hands work awkwardly, chopping vegetables with precision but lacking the rhythm you make it look so easy to achieve.

he scowls as he tastes the broth, finding it bland despite his efforts. still, he’s not about to admit defeat.

when he finally places the bowl in front of her, she looks up at him with wide, unsure eyes. “you made it?”

“who else, brat?” he snaps, though there’s no real bite to his words. he sits down beside her, his knee brushing against her tiny one as he watches her cautiously take a sip.

her lips curve into a small smile, and her voice is soft but earnest. “it’s good.”

he grunts, looking away to hide the faint twitch of his own mouth. “damn right it is.”

the next day, sukuna finds himself in the garden, sitting on the terrace with his arms crossed, watching his daughter as she toddles around, her fox clutched tightly to her chest.

she sticks close to him, circling the area but never straying far, her wariness of the world evident in her every hesitant step.

she pauses by the small patch of wildflowers, her tiny hand reaching out to pluck a bloom.

with the flower in her grasp, she shuffles over to him, her gaze flickering between the flower and her father’s intimidating figure.

“what’s that?” he asks flatly, raising a brow as she stops just short of his shadow.

“for...you,” she mumbles, her voice so soft he almost misses it.

sukuna narrows his eyes, leaning back against the wooden pillar as he watches her extend the flower toward him with trembling hands.

“what the hell am I supposed to do with that?” he scoffs, though his voice carries no malice.

her lips press into a nervous line, and she steps closer, holding it out insistently.

her little brow furrows in determination, and for a moment, she looks so much like you that it pulls a rare flicker of amusement from him.

he grunts, snatching the flower between two of his massive fingers as if it’s an inconvenience.

he twirls it once before tossing it onto the porch beside him, his crimson eyes meeting hers. “now what?”

she fidgets, her gaze darting to the ground. “it’s...pretty,” she whispers.

he leans back further, waving her off. “get out of here before you start thinking I’ll entertain you all day.”

she scurries off, her fox in one hand and her quiet laughter trailing behind her. sukuna glances at the discarded flower, its petals soft and vibrant against the wooden boards.

with a grunt, he flicks it off the edge with his finger, muttering under his breath. “ridiculous.”

the days that follow are...strange.

sukuna quickly realizes that his daughter is quiet by nature—content to play alone, to sit with her little fox and hum softly to herself.

she doesn’t demand his attention often, which leaves him both relieved and unsettled.

he’s used to people begging for his time, his favor, his mercy.

but she? she seems perfectly content with the simplest gestures—a pat on the head, a rare smile, his presence alone.

it’s on the third day, however, that she tests his patience.

the rain starts in the afternoon, a light drizzle that quickly turns into a downpour. sukuna is inside, reviewing a scroll, when he hears it—a soft, hiccuping sob from the other room.

he’s on his feet instantly, his massive frame filling the doorway as he finds her curled up in the corner, her fox clutched to her chest, her face buried in its fur.

“what the hell are you crying about?” he asks.

she sniffles, peeking up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. “it’s...loud,” she mumbles, her voice trembling.

it takes him a moment to realize she means the thunder.

he sighs, running a hand down his face before crouching down in front of her. “you’re afraid of a little noise?”

she nods hesitantly, her bottom lip quivering.

“pathetic.”

but instead of leaving her to deal with it alone, he picks her up, her tiny body fitting easily against his broad chest as he carries her to the main room.

he sits down on the tatami mat, cradling her against him as the storm rages outside.

she buries her face in his chest, her small hands clutching at his robes, and for once, he doesn’t push her away.

“you’re fine,” he mutters, his hand smoothing over her hair in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture. “it’s just noise. nothing can hurt you while I’m here.”

and somehow, she believes him.

by the time the week is up, sukuna is more than ready for you to return.

he won’t admit it, of course, but the sight of you walking through the gate fills him with an odd sense of relief.

your daughter, however, is the one who reacts most visibly.

“mama!” she cries, scrambling out of sukuna’s lap and running to you.

you scoop her up, laughing as she babbles about everything that’s happened in your absence, her words tumbling over each other in her excitement.

sukuna watches from the doorway, his arms crossed as he leans against the frame.

“well?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “how’d it go?”

“she’s alive, isn’t she?”

you laugh, stepping closer as you shift your daughter in your arms. your free hand brushes against his arm, a small, fleeting gesture that he doesn’t pull away from.

“she is,” you reply softly, tilting your head as you study his expression.

he’s looking past you now, crimson eyes sharp but distant, his gaze lingering on the garden beyond the estate gates.

it’s quiet for a beat too long, the weight of something unsaid hanging between you.

“did you miss me?” you ask, your voice light and teasing, but there’s a genuine curiosity beneath it.

he scoffs, his lips curling into something that’s not quite a smirk.

“don’t flatter yourself,” he mutters, but he turns his back to you, and you can’t help but feel it’s to hide a specific thing.

you smile knowingly, shifting your daughter higher on your hip as she snuggles into you, her fox tucked safely in her arms. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or I will make you drink pure ginger

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[haikyuubby]

hot spring with the mha boys, part 2!

headcanons featuring your favorite mha boys!

featuring: bakugo, midoriya, todoroki, kirishima, kaminari, tokoyami, shoji, shinso, & monoma.

❀ - female reader, bit suggestive at some parts.

╰┈➤ ੈ✩‧₊˚ note: you’re in a mixed hot spring!

bakugo

✩ constantly splashing you

✩ (let’s just imagine that 1-A got their own hot spring rented out)

✩ would only get nervous if he stares at your chest too long (and gets caught doing so by kaminari)

✩ if you two are dating, he won’t stop touching you.

✩ i.e. him throwing you into the water, letting him carry you while swimming, dunking your head underwater, etc.

✩ if you two aren’t dating, then he’ll still do all those things.

✩ he loves to see your body, and he’ll compliment you too.

✩ seeing you naked does get him feelin a little hot and bothered, but his thought go away once he realizes that you guys are in a public place.

midoriya

✩ definitely nervous to see you since you’re fully naked.

✩ lowkey a d1 fumbler over here

✩ he’ll stutter over his words trying to compliment you.

✩ after he calms down a bit, he wouldn’t mind playing games like “marco polo” or seeing who can hold their breath the longest between you two.

✩ he’s surprisingly a fast swimmer, even without using his quirk.

✩ doesn’t hesitate to splash mineta if he ends up making pervy comments towards you or any other girl.

todoroki

✩ enjoys the relaxation of the spring.

✩ is quiet compared to the other boys.

✩ if you start small talk with him, he’ll probably only give you short answers, since he really is focused on his own relaxation here.

✩ he wouldn’t mind listening to you rant though, he’s more of a listener anyways.

✩ if he finds that the hot spring just isn’t quite hot enough, he’ll use his quirk to make it warmer.

✩ doesn’t stare at your body out of respect, dating or not.

kirishima

✩ he’s just happy to be spending time with you.

✩ would enjoy having deep talks with you here.

✩ if you voice being insecure about your body in front of him, he’ll be quick to shut it down.

✩ wouldn’t mind playing games with you in the water, as long as the people around you don’t care.

✩ not a big fan of splashing super obnoxiously, but if you do it to him then he’d do it back.

✩ would recommend that the next time you guys go to a hot spring, more relaxation will be required.

tokoyami

✩ extremely flustered seeing you.

✩ another one that won’t hesitate to splash mineta if he makes perverted comments towards you.

✩ uses dark shadow to hide his flustered face.

✩ he’s actually really good at swimming.

✩ would like to chicken fight with you against kaminari and jirou.

✩ doesn’t mind to relax also.

kaminari

✩ likes to just play in the water tbh

✩ after losing against tokoyami in chicken fight, he vouches that you two get revenge by dunking him underwater.

✩ let’s just say that you both ended up underwater afterwards.

✩ might have some…pervy comments to make about your body, but he means well.

✩ by this, i mean he tries to compliment you but just ends up sounding like a complete weirdo.

✩ likes to see who can hold their breath the longest underwater.

shoji

✩ very quiet, and very respectful.

✩ doesn’t want to cause a ruckus out of respect for others.

✩ after he sees you, he might look away due to him being flustered.

✩ his arms are pretty useful for making huge splashes, but you’d have to really convince him to do something so trifling.

✩ he’s just one of those guys who’d rather sit in silence during times like this.

✩ probably the most normal out of everyone.

shinso

✩ he tries to just sit and relax at first

✩ but after you convince him to use his quirk on kaminari to go and splash bakugo a bunch of times, then things take a turn.

✩ you guys go and be little shit starters around the hot spring

✩ if it comes to you guys seeing who can hold their breath the longest underwater, shinso will win.

✩ not the fastest swimmer, but he enjoys floating on his back.

✩ if you don’t know how to float, he’ll gladly teach you.

monoma

✩ he’s just a little shit tbh

✩ would try to dunk (drown) you, splash you, basically he’ll do anything to annoy you, both in and out of the hot spring.

✩ he finds your reactions to be “funny” towards his antics.

✩ swears that he can swim faster and better than you can.(surprise, he can’t)

✩ cheats during “marco polo”

✩ if you and him pair up for a chicken fight, then you’ll probably end up winning against whoever your opponent is.

[grymghoul]

ARTHUR MORGAN has an impressive cock. You'd always figured a man who carries himself so surely would have one like that. Thick and heavy, crowned with hair a bit darker than what was on his head. The way it would always be half hard anytime he was around you was flattering. The way he'd take up all the space in that hotel room, striding around, parading naked, he'd steal the air from your lungs. The way it'd pat against his thighs as he took heavy steps through the room. You'd stare and he'd look away, flush in the face. There was an inherent sense of boyish charm about him, how he could be so rough and callous, but the second he was alone with you he was nearly shy. Intimacy with Arthur was earned, a privilege, not a thing to trifle with. He'd given it to you and you hadn't even realized how hard it was to earn this from him.

He blushed bright red when you'd seen it the first time, that breathy "Oh, Arthur.." had sent a chill down his spine. Arthur was extra careful with you, fearing he'd split you right in half on his cock. There was no hiding it. The way his ranch pants would be fuller around you, the obvious bulge of denim stretching around it. He loved that you could try to swallow it all you wanted and you could still grip fingers worth of it as his tip touched the back of your throat. He loved being able to have you seated on top of him and see his dick fucking you from the outside. A firm hand pressed against you, making you tighter and he could feel the way he so lovingly damaged your sweet pussy.

He would torment your guts almost effortlessly. He'd have you gripping the sheets, choking back moans and sobs and all manners of pretty noises in a hitched tone without even trying. He wasn't an egotistical man, but he knew it couldn't be like this for every man or no job would ever get done in the world. It'd come to a stand still as everyone would be lined up to fuck the next man. No, no he had to have something special with you. He was easily enamored with you and how you'd feel wrapped all warm and tight around him. How snug you were.

Each time felt like the first with Arthur. The way he filled you and would have you swollen and sore the next day. Even after the bath you'd end up in together, he'd keep you there, wet and sudsy against him and his thick member until you had pruny fingers. He loved that you were a whiny mess just from being near his cock.

You were made for him by God, he wasn't religious but he was sure of it. You fit better than any glove or shirt or saddle he could have tailor made. You were just as addicted to him. The way his flared head could take up residency inside you made you know that there was some higher power and they were merciful in such a way for you to have a taste of heaven on earth with your Arthur.

[gloxk]

Please give us sum eren & armin toxic hc Like armin and eren would be two different types of toxic. Ex!boyfriend eren blowing ur back out n sending it to ur bf or whoever ur talking to n ex!boyfriend armin not being able to take you talking to someone else so he fucks you a party or smth idk go crazy. 🤰🏾.

“Yeah my ex is crazy.”

A/N: No bc they are two completely different types of toxic. Like idk how to explain it? I js feel like eren is the type of ex to be petty and trifling. But armin..omg..armin goes off the fucking deep end. But i love my lil psychos🤭.

WARNING!: A lil fluff , toxic behavior, unhealthy relationships, smut, unprotected s*x, Blackmailing, Mentions of offing someone, obsession, controlling, plus other things . +17 mdni

EREN! Please for the love of god don’t let Eren find out you fucking with someone else. This man will go from nonchalant to crazy. “Oh word? This what we doing?”. He disregards the fact yall broke up a whole month ago.

He would definitely blow up your phone after seeing a post on instagram. “Who is he?” & “He fuck you better then me?”. Oh and please don’t tell him yes. Because let me warn you. He will be right there at that door knocking.

“You know you fucking lyin. But ight we gon see.” He hung up the phone and you laughed at him. Who gave this man an ego? Did he really think he was the only man with good dick?

You were confused when you heard a knock on your door but to your surprise, it was eren. “What the fuck?” he pushed right passed you walking into your apartment. “Nah, don’t fucking play with me y/n.” You could tell he was pissed just by his voice.

This man wasted no time bending you over the couch and fucking you right there.

“Nobody could fuck you better the me.” He grabbed a fists full of your hair pulling you up to his mouth.“You belong to me. Don’t ever let me find out there’s someone other than me fucking you like this.” and to be quite frank, nobody could fuck you like eren.

Eren talked you through the whole thing. He knew he was rough with you, but god he couldn’t help it. So that’s why he praised you for taking his dick so well <3.

He took out his phone and pressed record. His hard thrust drove lewd moans from your lips. “Fuck right there!” you screamed every time his hips slapped your ass. He made sure he got glimpse of your face so the guy knew it was you. He made sure you screamed his name just to prove who you belonged to.

You got so many miss calls while eren fucked you to sleep. Every time ole boy called eren went faster. <3

You woke up alone, your bed empty. Your phone notifications were through the roof. Over 100 notifications from that guy. It was crazy. But a simple text from eren stuck out. “Let me hear word about you fucking w some again. Next time ima put em in a casket.”

You weren’t sure if he was joking or not. But one thing you did know was he made every threat a promise. And he always kept his promises.

ARMIN! Lawd, you let armin find out you even thought about some one else fucking you, it was over.

This man went full psychotic when word got to him about you talking to someone guy. Apparently you were at a party grinding all up against him.

The first thing armin did was collect every drop of information he had on this guy. His home address, His mother’s facebook, His phone number, Job number. He knew too much on the fucker who decided to touch his pretty “girlfriend”.

It pissed him off, how dare you try to replace him. He blew up your phone to the point it crashed. “That’s so fucking cute, y/n. You think that you can just go fuck some other guy?” , “Please don’t make me do something crazy.” . The crazy part was you didn’t even fuck the guy, he was just fucking crazy. He always assumed you were cheating for some reason.

When you didn’t answer his calls he pulled up expeditiously. if you didn’t answer within the 30 minute window he wouldn’t wait to show up to your door.

“Y/n open this goddamn door.” He banged on the door. It was 2 am- oh yeah he knew you had work later, he didn’t care.

As soon as you open the door an argument ensued. “Pick up the fucking phone when I call you y/n” He yelled at you slamming the door behind him. “You ain’t my fucking boyfriend Armin. Ion gotta do shit.”

He never made you regret your words so fast. His nails dug into your hips as his pace increased. “Ain’t yo fucking boyfriend huh? Then why you letting me fuck you raw?”

Your bed was a mess after he made you cum over and over again. After he was done all you could do was mumble incoherently ‘Nobody is better then you’. He was rough but his after care made up for it <3.

He kissed your forehead before he nuzzled into your chest. “You’re the best I ever had.” he soon fell asleep after those words left his mouth.

I love my cute lil crazy guys <3

[00valentina-writes00]

hiii, can you do a headcanon of Ambessa with a girlfriend who is super spoiled and Ambessa does everything for her cause she’s in love. thanks

✞⛧ Ofcccc here’s Ambessa with her super spoiled girlfriend ✞⛧

Ambessa is completely and utterly smitten. She sees her girlfriend as a queen, and she’ll stop at nothing to make sure she’s treated as one.

She loves spoiling her girlfriend with extravagant gifts: jewelry, designer clothes, rare perfumes from foreign lands—you name it, Ambessa has it wrapped and delivered to her door.

Ambessa’s favorite pastime is watching her girlfriend’s eyes light up when she surprises her. “You deserve the world, and I’ll make sure you have it,” she says without hesitation.

Breakfast in bed? Always. Ambessa ensures her girlfriend starts every morning with freshly brewed coffee or tea, perfectly made pastries, and her favorite fruit.

If her girlfriend even hints at wanting something, Ambessa makes it happen—whether it’s a vacation, a limited-edition item, or a small luxury like a specific shade of lipstick.

Massages on demand. After a long day, Ambessa insists her girlfriend relax while she knead the tension out of her shoulders with her strong hands.

Ambessa personally oversees her girlfriend’s security. She won’t tolerate any risks to her safety, assigning her most loyal guards to her at all times.

She never lets her girlfriend lift a finger—ever. Whether it’s opening doors, carrying bags, or even pouring a drink, Ambessa insists, “That’s my job.”

When Ambessa is away on business, she writes long, heartfelt letters and sends lavish care packages so her girlfriend never feels lonely.

She’s fiercely protective. Anyone who dares insult or hurt her girlfriend learns quickly that Ambessa is not one to be trifled with.

Ambessa often calls her “my little empress” or “my treasure,” and her tone is always dripping with affection when she says it.

Private chef? Check. Ambessa hires the best culinary talent in the world to cater to her girlfriend’s every craving.

If her girlfriend ever gets upset, Ambessa immediately clears her schedule to comfort her. She hates seeing her unhappy and does everything in her power to make her smile.

Ambessa loves brushing or playing with her girlfriend’s hair. It’s one of her favorite ways to bond, especially during quiet moments together.

She’s attentive to her girlfriend’s needs and can read her moods easily. “What’s wrong, love? Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

Date nights are always luxurious. Ambessa takes her girlfriend to exclusive restaurants, the opera, or on yacht trips under the stars.

Ambessa’s girlfriend is always dressed to impress, courtesy of Ambessa’s insistence on buying her custom-tailored outfits.

When they’re relaxing at home, Ambessa enjoys curling up with her girlfriend in front of the fireplace, sharing a glass of wine and soft conversation.

She keeps her girlfriend warm and cozy. Ambessa has an oversized fur cloak she drapes over her girlfriend whenever she’s cold, pulling her into her lap for added warmth.

If her girlfriend enjoys hobbies like painting or writing, Ambessa makes sure she has a luxurious studio filled with all the best supplies.

Public affection? Always classy but unmistakable. A hand at the small of her girlfriend’s back, a kiss to the knuckles, and a piercing glare at anyone who looks too long.

Ambessa constantly praises her girlfriend’s beauty, intelligence, and kindness. “You’re perfect, darling. Absolutely perfect.”

On anniversaries, Ambessa goes all out—planning surprise getaways, designing custom jewelry, or even commissioning a portrait of the two of them.

Soft moments are her weakness. Seeing her girlfriend laugh, smile, or fall asleep in her arms melts the cold exterior Ambessa shows to the rest of the world.

Ambessa has no qualms about reminding her girlfriend how much she loves her. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Never forget that.”

She’s not shy about reminding people of her girlfriend’s status, either. “Do you know who she is? Treat her with the respect she deserves.”

Ambessa secretly adores when her girlfriend gets a little bratty or demanding. It only fuels her desire to spoil her more.

Her girlfriend’s happiness is Ambessa’s top priority. Whether it’s through small gestures or grand displays, she lives to see her smile.

Ambessa dreams of retiring one day to a private estate where she and her girlfriend can live in peace, surrounded by luxury.

In the end, Ambessa would do anything for her girlfriend. She’s her greatest weakness, her greatest love, and the one thing Ambessa is truly soft for.

[zorosangell]

zoro and his girl who are always bickering and fighting and breaking up and getting back together again. atp, the other straw hats are used to it now. I can also imagine zoro NEVER apologizes and his idea of getting back together with his girl again is just acting like buisness as usual (just going back to her and sitting with her, throwing his arm around her shoulder, kissin her cheek, acting like nothing ever happened, etc) and usually, she’s receptive to it. Because even though she’s as stubborn as zoro (maybe even more), she hates arguing (and loves him too much).

but imagine during one of their arguments, Nami drags her out to go shopping at a island they stopped by, and she sees all these happy couples holding hands and being affectionate and just being sweet and soft with each other. she realizes…zoro is never sweet and soft with her. and he NEVER says I’m sorry (I imagine maybe she sees an arguing couple in the market, but the guy comes with flowers and an apology and it makes her wonder). She makes up her mind, she won’t take him back until he says those words, no matter what. I know this isn’t so descriptive, but I’d love to see you take on this! ❤️

⛥ﾟ・。 pit

synopsis: time and time again zoro has forgotten about your outings, leaving you dressed up and alone on several occasions. but after nami witnesses it in person, she finally puts her foot down... and you finally confront your swordsman.

cw: angst, very little comfort, happy-ish ending (left up for interpretation), zoro's kind of an asshole, nami's a girl's girl, reader is better than me.

a/n: listen to promise by laufey or casual by chappell roan if you want the full experience. i've never written a trifling zoro before this was crazy

"Why don't you stop wasting my time and give me a real discount?" Nami asked, firmly slamming her fist on the counter.

"Please don't be angry! I'm doing my best!" the cashier apologized, "But, c'mon, I can't take fifty percent off no matter how much you buy. They're marked down enough already!"

The man looked to be on the brink of tears, and you couldn't help but snicker.

"Nami, leave the poor man alone..." you smiled, feeling a little bad for him, "He's just doing his job. And besides, it's not like you can't afford it."

"Nope," she denied, popping the p as she grabbed another humongous pile of clothes. "It's the principle of the matter, (y/n). If I have the option to pay for something half-off, why would I pay full price?"

"They're not half-off!"

"Besides..." her gaze drifted to your outfit, a small pout settling on her lips as she looked you up and down with saddened eyes. "I can see that you are clearly trying to out-glam me, so I gotta glam back!"

She turned to the cashier, placing down the new pile.

"You drive a hard bargain. I'll buy these, too. But I want ninety percent off."

The man nearly fainted and you laughed, surprised by Nami's playful rivalry.

"Nami, you've owned more clothes than I've ever worn. I think it's safe to say that between the two of us, you're the one that's out-glamming me," you assured, resting your cheek in your palm as you leaned on the counter.

"But look at you!" she playfully whined. "Your outfit is killer! And your hair is on point, too!"

Though, just as quick as she examined your outfit, she realized that it was really good.

Too good to be shopping in.

"Wait, (y/n), were you supposed to be going somewhere? Why are y—"

The moment your face fell, the glimmer in your eyes dimming at the memory, reality finally donned on the navigator, hitting her like a sea train at top speed.

He did it again.

Anger rushed through the woman's veins like wildfire, her face not even attempting to conceal her fury as it twisted into an expression of absolute rage.

You knew it all too well.

"Nami, ple—" "I'll KILL HIM!"

The clothes on the counter were suddenly a thing of the past as the red-haired woman drew her Clima-Takt and stormed toward the exit of the boutique, the dangerous aura she was emanating sending a shiver down even your spine.

Like magnets, everything began to click for the woman.

The beautiful outfit.

The done-up hair.

The glum look on your face.

'That bastard stood her up again!'

That's why you had been wandering around town aimlessly.

You were waiting for him.

This scenario had become commonplace over the past several months you and the green-haired swordsman had been dating, much to Nami's severe indignation.

It was always the same.

You and Zoro would plan a date.

Zoro would get caught up training, or get caught up drinking, or just plain, old fucking forget.

You would end up alone, having gone through all the trouble and embarrassment.

She would have to console you, and you would have to keep her from bashing his head in.

Then you'd have to face the jerk the next day, who, instead of apologizing, simply acted like nothing ever happened.

As if the entire ship see how utterly crushed you were.

And then the whole cycle would repeat the following week.

Nami was sick of it.

'This shit ends today.'

"Nami, please! It's not worth it!" you ran out the store and after her, grabbing onto her arm. "It's not gonna change anything!"

"The hell it isn't!" she barked, brows cinched tightly together. "(y/n), I won't stand for this anymore! This is what?! The twentieth time?!"

"Twenty-third... but I'm not counting..." you corrected, meekly.

"(Y/N)!"

"I know! I know!" you sighed, plopping yourself down on the curb, defeated. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"There's nothing wrong with you! There's something wrong with him not realizing just how much of a fucking catch you are!" she groaned, exasperatedly, as she threw her hands in the air. "Twenty-three times, that bastard... I oughta chip his swords twenty-three times."

"I guess... I just don't get why..." you mumbled, looking down at your lap with glassy eyes. "Is it me? Am I doing something wrong?"

Nami turned to you, heart aching at your saddened form.

"Don't think that for another second!" she denied, quickly moving to take a seat next to you, pulling you into a small side hug. "You've done absolutely nothing to deserve this. Zoro's just being a real jackass."

"But there has to be some reason," you attempted to rationalize, tone rising. "Does he not care? Am I just that insignificant that he can't even waste an hour or two to spend time with me? His girlfriend?"

"That's what I've been saying!" Nami agreed, loudly, calling the attention of some passersby. "(y/n), you've given him chance after chance after chance, and he still hasn't cleaned up his act."

She gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, flashing you a sincere smile.

"I'm not saying you have to break up with him, unless that's what you want to do, but I'm saying that you really need to realize just how amazing you are, and hold him accountable for his actions."

Shooting up from her seat, she stood before you, pointing a manicured finger at your chest.

"You're the prize, girl! You're strong, smart, kind, compassionate, and drop-dead gorgeous! What guy wouldn't want that!" she turned to a few of the men passing by, a smile on her face. "Right?"

"YES!" they cheered, eagerly.

Your face burned with embarrassment.

"Nami!"

"You get my point!" she laughed, resting her hand on her hip. "You deserve someone who will treat you like the princess you are. Whether that's Zoro or not is up to you, but know that his track record begs to differ..."

Taking a moment, you let her words sink in, your confidence rising slowly but surely.

Maybe you were that great...

Maybe you did deserve more...

Maybe it was time to start anew...

"Y'know what... you're right! It's time for a change!" you smiled, slowly standing up from the curb. "No more tears!"

"Nope!" Nami cheered, proudly.

"No more excuses!"

"None of 'em!"

"No more pretending!"

"Not around here!"

"From now on, I'm gonna start living life for me! And if that means going out clubbing tonight and getting drunk to forget my problems, then so be it!"

"Y'know what, I'll take it! Let's go!" Nami squealed, the two of you quickly charging back into the boutique.

You couldn't fight off your smile, your shoulders feeling like an insurmountable weight had been lifted off them.

For the first time in a while, things didn't seem so bleak.

"Ooo, I think I saw the perfect revenge dress for you, (y/n)! It's gorgeous!"

Walking out of the girls' quarters, you felt like a million bucks—and were probably wearing it too with the amount of money you and Nami spent in town.

But price be damned, the result was phenomenal.

The provocative dress.

The decadent perfume.

The glittering jewelry.

The leg-extending heels.

You were absolutely breath-taking.

Not to say that you weren't before, but just significantly more so.

The dress itself was just the right amount of short, and helped carve out your curves deliciously.

Your hair was done courtesy of the ship's archaeologist, its style elegant yet loose to fit the club scene you were going to.

And your skin was practically glowing thanks to the oils Nami had picked up in the market.

So, it was safe to say you were at least a quadruple threat.

Looking down at yourself, you smiled, feeling like the prettiest woman in the world.

No longer concerned with the feelings of others, or the wrong-doings of yourself, you felt freer than you'd ever had.

And you had Nami to thank for it all.

'For finally knocking some sense into me...'

Sensing someone's presence, you pulled yourself out of your thoughts, only to see your swordsman standing right before you.

His eyes dragged over your body, almost analytically, a grin rising to his lips.

It seemed he finished his training early...

"Where are you goin' all dressed up?" he smirked, his hand coming up to rest on your hip, pulling you closer. "You look good... an' smell good, too."

Quickly, you pushed yourself out of his grasp, your legs pressing forward to stride across the balcony, leaving the him to stand there, surprised.

You had never pushed him away before, much less ignored him.

'What the hell?'

"What's the matter with you?" Zoro's voice lowered an octave, brows furrowed in confusion as he followed after you.

You didn't answer, keeping your gaze trained ahead as you pressed on, heading toward the stairs that led off the Sunny.

"(y/n)," he tried again, voice slightly firmer, as he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. "(y/n), what the hell's your problem? Where are you going?"

Harshly, you flung his hand off, brows slowly beginning to crease at his audacity.

He was acting like nothing happened.

Again.

He knew exactly why you were fucking upset, but was making the choice to completely ignore it in favor of acting stupid and playing in your face.

Your jaw set tight, all your thoughts grinding to a screeching halt.

For the first time ever, anger and resentment began to claw at your chest, your hand itching to rise up and slap him right across the cheek.

Enough was enough.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," you spat, voice dripping with venom as you went back to walking. "I don't wanna see you right now."

"See me?" his brows furrowed as his finger pointed toward his chest, now even more confused. "The hell did I do?!"

Or maybe he was just fucking stupid...

Either way, you finally cracked.

"IT'S WHAT YOU DON'T DO, ZORO!" you roared, whipping back around to face him, the man flinching at your volume. "FOR GOD'S SAKE, IT'S ALWAYS BEEN WHAT YOU DON'T DO!"

The leak in the dam of your heart had finally turned into a full-on flood, and you were now outpouring months upon months upon months of pent up anger.

"You stand me up! You forget our dates! You make it abundantly clear that you would much rather spend the day nursing a sake bottle than with me!" you scoffed, throwing an exasperated hand in the air. "Do you even remember what we were supposed to do today?!"

The swordsman paused a moment, scouring his brain for recollection of the event.

"Hey, Zo'," you piped up from your spot in the corner, shutting the book Robin had loaned you. "I'm gettin' kinda hungry. You wanna grab lunch?"

He nodded, grinding out another squat as he lowered his knees to a ninety-degree angle, somehow perfectly controlling the two ton weight on his back.

"Yeah, you go on ahead," he grunted, holding the position. "I'll catch up. Gonna finish up this set."

"'Kay," you nodded, flashing him an eager smile. "I'll meet you at that sushi place we saw in town."

Zoro's eye shot wide, a sudden sense of dread sinking in his stomach as he finally remembered.

"Oh, shit..."

"Yeah... Oh, shit," you scoffed, turning to head off the ship. "I'm done with this..."

"Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute," he grabbed your arm once again, pulling you back. "(y/n), it was an accident... I didn't mean it."

"How the hell am I supposed to know that?! You never fucking apologize!" you yelled, jerking sharply away from his grasp. "At least that way it could seem like you're at least trying to pretend you care about me!"

"Of course, I care about you, (y/n)!"

"YOU CERTAINLY DON'T ACT LIKE IT!" your voice cracked.

He halted, expression falling and chest tugging with pain as a few stray tears fell down your cheeks.

You were hurting... bad.

And it was all his fault.

All of the times he left you hanging, all of the times he screwed up.

They were all coming back to haunt him, each one doubling the weight of the sinking pit in his stomach.

How could he have not seen?

You had been so patient with him—never raising your voice, never holding a grudge—and he supposed his mind had unconsciously took that as the green-light to proceed.

Granted, he never forgot anything or stood you up out of malice or actual lack of care.

It just... slipped his mind.

Though, in that, he could see where his thinking was flawed, and where you could find a problem.

"Am I... just that forgettable to you?" you asked, voice suddenly small.

Zoro snapped himself out of his thoughts, eye wide at your tone.

It sounded so distant.

"Of course, not, (y/n)," he quickly denied, lurching forward to hold you out of instinct. "I—"

But you stepped back, avoiding his grasp as your arms raised to hug yourself, hoping to keep everything together.

"Every time I look at you, I feel more alone," you continued, letting out a few sniffles. "I'm always, always reaching out to you, always down for whatever you want to do. But you just... never reach back... and you don't even bother to apologize..."

Glancing out at the sunset, you fought off the wobble of your lip, hugging yourself even tighter.

"Zoro... I can't be with someone that doesn't care about me..."

That's when everything suddenly came to a screeching halt.

Zoro felt like the words cut right through his chest, tearing through his heart and opening it up like force hell-bent on making him see.

He'd rarely felt this feeling, but he knew what it was instantly.

Fear.

"(y/n), don't do this," he started, panic slowly spiking in his veins. "I'm sorry for being such an idiot... but we can work this out. This doesn't have to be... it doesn't have to end like this..."

"But it does," you countered, quickly. "It isn't like this is your first time doing this, Zoro... or your third... or your tenth... or even your twentieth."

You scoffed, half-laughing at the situation.

"If I hadn't said anything, you probably would've made it to thirty."

Zoro's chest stung at the comment, the man almost letting out a wince.

It was harsh... but not without truth.

"I'm freeing myself of all of this, Zoro. I deserve better," you stated, firmly, slowly regaining your confidence as you turned away, heading for the stairs. "This conversation is over. And thanks to you, I'm late."

The swordsman looked just about ready to shit his pants, the finality of your words scaring him more than any enemy.

You were his girl.

His best friend.

His ray of sunshine.

Seeing you so upset, so jaded, because of his actions?

He felt like shit.

And, in that moment, he honestly wanted nothing more than to hold you.

To shower you with a thousand apologies.

To make it up to you in any and every way he could possible conceive.

But you were slipping through his fingers like smoke, blowing father and farther away.

"(y/n)... please..." he tried one final time, voice softer than you'd ever heard it before as he carefully grabbed your wrist.

And you nearly broke, the sound of his voice pulling a sharp string on your heart, nearly making you take everything back.

But Nami's words from earlier replayed in your mind, and you fought the feeling, pulling your arm away.

You had to stay strong, for both your sakes.

"We're done, Zoro," you finished, finally descending down the steps. "I'm moving on."

The swordsman watched as you disappeared in front of him, now suddenly feeling as if you were worlds away.

He'd finally done it.

He'd pushed you over the edge.

And rather than feeling angry or upset, or even sorry for himself, he felt empty.

Truly and utterly empty.

The rest of the crew watched from cracked doors and open windows as the man stood there, staring at the place you had once stood like he was in a trance.

Nobody wanted things to turn out this way.

It was clear as day that the both of you loved each other a great deal... but Zoro needed this.

He needed the wake up call.

And now that he was presented with all the necessary truth, he could finally work toward remedying the situation; and, by the will of the Gods, making up his dizzying amount of transgressions against you.

It would be hard work, and for the first time in his life, he would have to be completely vulnerable.

But the crew believed in him.

And the crew believed in you, too.

The both of you would come back from this stronger than ever.

And Zoro would come back to the crow's nest with a calendar hanging front and center on the door.

Courtesy of the ship's navigator.

[cheshire-chronicles]

A Deal with a Dragon | Zhongli

✧ A/N: I quite enjoyed writing this and, with its premise, might expand on it in the future. Consequences of our actions, and all.

✧ Synopsis: Upon watching a stranger navigate Liyue Harbour, you start to theorize about their true identity. In this case, you believe the funeral parlour consultant is the Archon of Liyue, believed to be dead. The only course of action is to confront them, don’t you think? But sleeping dragons should never be woken.

You have a theory. It's not well-founded or even likely to be believed by the citizens of Liyue. Sharing such an idea would have a better chance resulting in your ostracization or even arrest for spreading sacrilegious delusions.

However, you are certain: the man who works at the funeral parlour is the former Archon of Liyue.

It took you a while to come to this conclusion. You had seen him around the port city, walking the streets and engaging the stall-keepers in idle conversation, often to the detriment of their business; eating at Liuli Pavilion, paying with another man's mora; gazing out toward the mountains, as though looking beyond this world somehow.

His speech patterns were strange, as well. More formal than the typical citizen, rich and cultured, his words eloquent as he spoke of even the most trifling things. His suspiciously astute knowledge of history; however, was the final nail in the coffin.

Because why else would a random man know the exact temperature that Morax took his mulled wine, the exact ratio of osmanthus flavouring he preferred, or the exact crag of the mountain he enjoyed drinking atop of?

"I know what you are," you say one day, making what you will later learn was a grave lapse in judgement.

Zhongli sits before you in his funeral parlour's office, raising an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?" he says calmly.

"I know," you say slowly, pronouncing each word, "what you are. Or who, I should say. I've figured you out."

For a moment, Zhongli only gazes at you. He looks neither surprised nor unsurprised by your words. "And what exactly is that, might I ask?"

"You're —" You hesitate. Speaking the words aloud seems taboo, even in this private space. "You're him. Morax."

"Am I." He sounds indulgent, like someone much older humouring the grand declarations of a child at their feet.

"I know you are," you insist. "It just makes sense. I've had an eye on you for a while now, so don't try and make me out as a fool. You're Rex Lapis. You're Morax. You're Liyue's Archon!"

Zhongli exhales a low breath. If you looked closer, you might have seen the glint of something sharper than teeth under his lip. "And have you shared this theory with anyone?"

"Well, no —"

"No? You haven't gone to inform the Millelith of your suspicions that their Archon remains in their midst? You haven't sent letters to share your concerns with the Liyue Qixing?"

Despite the fact that he's essentially feeding you ideas to give his identity away, he looks unbothered. He watches you serenely across the table, eyes amber in the dusky sunlight pouring in from the window.

At your silence, he leans forward.

"Tell me, then," he says, almost gently, "what did you hope to gain from this confrontation? Though, I doubt I can call it something so hostile. You seem uncertain as to your own next steps in this matter."

It’s true. To be frank, you hadn’t really expected him to entertain your conversation this long. You had expected denial if not outright labelling your theory blasphemous. But his tranquil manner of coaxing further answers out of you is strangely unsettling.

Something similar to the feeling of encroaching upon a pit viper’s den. What was the old phrase? Never wake a sleeping dragon?

“Why did you abandon your people?” you ask, voice wavering despite yourself.

“I have not abandoned anyone.” He gazes upon you evenly. “I am a man of Liyue, and here I remain, do I not?”

“But — you’re not acting like you should be — a God — they deserve to know! We had funeral rites and everything, for someone still alive!”

He raises his cup and drinks. Never moving his eyes from you. It is a peculiar sensation. When he lowers the cup, you see the wine-dark colouring of his mouth, so alike something less innocent.

The back of your neck prickles forebodingly, though you cannot see or hear anything amiss. Despite the lack of evidence, you trust your instinct and attempt to back out of the situation.

"Forgive my intrusion. I'm sorry if it came across like an accusation. I'll leave you be —"

You manage to turn, before he speaks out from behind you.

"I can forgive the transgression," he says silkily, "of speaking out of turn. My most prosperous citizens have always been the most brazen across history, I've found."

You stiffen at his words. At his implicit confession to your accusation. You glance back over your shoulder, quivering slightly. "You mean, you really are —?"

"Morax, former Archon of Liyue." He smiles, and it's less kind than before. Two salivating fangs bare at you. "As to what I was saying, while I can forgive your boldness, I cannot forgive the threat you've implanted of revealing my identity to those I've decided to conceal my presence from. You see, I took great pains to remove my influence from the nation, and it would not do to allow you to counter my efforts."

"I won't," you say quickly, taking a step back. Your nape is stinging anxiously. "I can promise you that I won't tell anyone."

"No? But I'm afraid I let slip potential methods for you to do so. The Millelith, the Liyue Qixing. All viable options, and you could select any one."

"I won't! I really won't —”

“And, as you so keenly declared, you feel my people deserve to know I linger in their lives. That is as blatant a threat as I can take it.”

He stands slowly, and you wonder if it's a trick of the light, or if he's taller than before. Larger. His silken dark hair, burnt umber, sweeps the floor as he circles the table toward you. Smoke exhales from his mouth. Draconic.

Without pausing to wait, to give another inch, you turn tail and attempt to flee. Terror pulses within you. The parlour seems like a labyrinth suddenly, every door leading to another room rather than an exit back out to Liyue's crowded streets. Just as you finally reach the front lobby; however, a massive block of golden stone erupts from the ground, shattering the tiled floors, rising to barricade the door.

You skid to a stop and stare in dismay. Behind you, shoes click and a soft sound, almost serpent-like, breathes by your ear, "Let's make a contract, shall we, little one?"