#this is one of those ships that confused me at first
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threeacttragedy · 11 hours ago
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Entry 19: The One Where I Perform Mis-Directed as a Three Act Comedy, Act II
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“Before you started the bumpers cars act, for the record unless you’re eight years old trying to make your dolls kiss, smashing your teeth together is not an ideal approximation of romance.”
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“And [Hattie’s] gaze fell to [Anthony’s], felt as if somehow it was attached to his, as if there were filaments between them hooking together every time their glances connected.”
“Maybe there had already been the faintest glimmer of this horrifying attachment even then. His first steps on a map to a very unexpected destination but somehow it still felt as if there’d been no warning at all. As if a thousand insignificant moments and incidents had quietly woven together until one day he’d turned and he’d fallen and he’d been caught by a net of those impossibly unbreakable threads which he hadn’t realized existed.”
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“…[Anthony] was not a touchy-feely person… But when he and Hattie, when their characters had kissed each other into the wall, he’d almost purred against her like a damn cat.”
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“It was a closed set this morning so thankfully a very minimal number of crew personnel…On the flip side, the team reserved this level of set closure, basically a skeleton crew, for only the most explicit scenes and semi-nudity.”
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“But she never had to worry in the past about being more involved in the dance than she ought to be. Not once had she arranged herself in a castmate’s arms and felt as if they were doing something truly, genuinely intimate…"
“Quite clearly the issue here was her scene partner and the potential for an amped up repeat of what had happened last time. Hard nipples, damp thighs, and a heart trying to burst out of her chest, all from a fully clothed screen kiss. This time, they’d both be all but naked, writhing on a bed, gasping, grinding, sighing.”
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“This mattress feels very sturdy.”
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“The moment Iris bounces him into the mattress in episode 8..."
“If millions of people were going to watch her ride Anthony like a mechanical bull…”
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“Stevie pointed at the ornate mirror near the bed. Her gesture a spectacular symphony of sarcasm. ‘As your pre-seduction routine appears to involve a great deal of hair flicking and smokey glances at yourself, have at it.’”
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“Are you looking for something?”
“‘Falling buckets,’ Hattie said. ‘Or collapsing bedframes or beams coming loose…’”
“…when the floorboard beneath [Anthony’s] boot performed a preemptive strike. The wood tilted inwards, just enough to throw off his footing…and his full body weight surged forward. She could see later in hindsight that he had attempted to both shield her head and not crush her underneath him…"
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“Anthony landed on his knees with a painful grunt but had barely hit the floor before he was at her side, touching the back of her head and her shaking shoulders. She just had time to register a little too much cool air on the backs of her thighs, then he was smoothing her skirts down protecting what remained of her dignity in an automatic gesture.”
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“’Gentle, this bit,’ [Stevie] said. “Romantic, soft.”
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“But in the ways that mattered, especially in the context of an intimate scene and the scripts that they all dreaded most, he’d been surprising. If she wanted to expand into the territory of actual truth, he’d been the most confusing, unsettling, and fun scene partner she’d had in four years.”
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“They were still holding hands. They realized this simultaneously and let go immediately.”
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“’She’s my baby,’ [Cassidy] explained as she turned the key in the ignition. ‘The first thing I ever treated myself to with my own money, and she’s been with me for the whole crazy ride.’ She patted the gear box fondly. ‘I could never part with Penelope.’”
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When discussing the underdog love story on Leicester Square, Hattie commented, “If she were a viewer, she’d be shipping them hard.”
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While Anthony and Hattie were looking at gravestones, one caught Hattie’s eye…
“The dates here coincided with the time period of Leicester Square… Below the words was a symbol of a V-shaped flying dove. At first glimpse, it strongly resembled two raised fingers.”
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While reminiscing about growing up, Hattie recalled, “...her mother reading aloud to her from a battered old copy of The Magic Faraway Tree.”
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“’Do you remember the day we first met,’ [Hattie] asked suddenly."
“In all honesty, no. His early days on various TV and film sets had all blurred into an archived jumble of long hours, interchangeable costars, despised hotel living. As difficult as it was to imagine now, he had no distinct memory of the very first time he had ever seen Hattie. Although, he might have a vague recollection of earrings shaped like miniature garden gnomes. He did, however, have a crystal-clear memory of the first time he’d actually seen Hattie with all that the emphasis on that word implied.”
“She’d obviously read the ‘no’ in his expression, and her smile widened.”
“’It was a Tuesday morning at Malvern Abbey.’”
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“And now she felt excessively wrong sharing close whispering breaths with Patrick especially with Anthony sitting on a folding chair a few meters behind the camera awaiting his queue to slip in for the daydream portion of the scene, and currently watching their every move. His pose was typically lazy, one boot crossed over the other, his fingers tapping on the arm of the chair, but he hadn’t looked away from them once. Something in his demeanor had the usually easy-going Patrick antsy as hell, probably the twitching eyelid.”
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“’A definite improvement,’ Stevie’s voice came from behind them, very dryly. ‘And if we’d actually started shooting yet, we could probably call it a day.’”
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winxanity-ii · 19 hours ago
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⌜Godly Things | Chapter 26 Chapter 26 | fortune's veil⌟
╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝
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❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘
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After waking from the dreamlike encounter with Aphrodite, you found yourself lying in your own bed, the early morning light filtering through the curtains casting a soft glow across your room.
The surreal experience left you dazed, a mix of confusion and awe swirling within you as you tried to reconcile the goddess' revelations about the lifted curse and its implications for your life.
The warmth of the dream still clung to your skin like a fading perfume, making the mundane reality of your room seem oddly disconnected.
As you sat up, the echoes of Aphrodite's voice seemed to linger in the air, a constant reminder that while the curse was lifted, the capricious nature of the gods remained a powerful force, one that could shift the course of your life in ways you could scarcely imagine.
Unfortunately, you couldn't linger on such thoughts for long. Duty called, and you had responsibilities that wouldn't wait, even for divine revelations. As you finished getting dressed and made your way through the palace, performing your morning duties, you found yourself more observant, more aware of the subtle shifts in the behavior of those around you.
Were they just being polite, or did they sense something different about you now?
It wasn't until midday, as you were lost in thought while polishing the silver in the dining hall, that you were caught off guard by a familiar presence bounding toward you. Callias' grin was wide as he made his way through the bustling corridor, his face lighting up as he dodged around other servants and nearly tripped over a lounging dog in his haste.
As Callias made his way to you, his first words were tinged with surprise. "How come you're still in your servant's attire?" His brows were raised, a playful yet incredulous look painting his features, face still flushed from his sprint.
You blinked, confused by his question. "What do you mean?"
Rolling his eyes, Callias huffed, his impatience evident. "Were you even paying attention to the king's announcement at the feast last night? He declared that today would be the Cultural Exchange Festival between Ithaca, Athena's domain, and Bronte, Ares' domain. Everyone's supposed to dress in the styles of either place to celebrate the unity!"
At the mention of the feast, a flush crept up your cheeks, your mind involuntarily recalling the incident with Telemachus—how close he had been, the intensity in his eyes. But just as quickly as the warmth appeared, it tapered off, overshadowed by the realization of why it had happened, the manipulation by Eros, and Aphrodite's subsequent revelation in your dream.
You shook off the memory, focusing back on Callias, who was now watching you with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "I... I guess I missed that part," you admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed. "It was a hectic night."
"Well, you better hurry up and change then," Callias said, his tone lightening, trying to ease the mood. "You can't miss out on all the fun. Plus, there's a ship docked this morning from a distant land, and they've brought things from far-off lands that you wouldn't believe!"
His excitement was infectious, and despite the lingering thoughts of divine interventions and cursed legacies, you found yourself nodding along, caught up in his enthusiasm. "Alright, lead the way then. Just let me put this away and I'll find something more fitting to wear."
Callias grinned, satisfied with your response, and bounced on his heels. "Great! Meet me at the festival; I'll be lingering near the front. Don't take too long!"
Watching him dart off, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of gratitude and amusement at his ability to pull you out of your reverie and back into the present. With a more immediate concern now at hand, you hurried back to your quarters, your steps quickening with the prospect of the festival and what wonders it might hold, pushing the complexities of gods and curses to the back of your mind for just a little longer.
.☆.      .✩.          .☆.
You arrived at the festival already in full swing, the grounds buzzing with a vibrant blend of Ithaca and Bronte's cultures. The air was rich with the smells of roasted meats and freshly baked breads, mingling with the sweet scents of pastries and spiced wines that vendors shouted about from their stalls. Children darted through the crowd, their laughter rising above the murmur of conversations and the occasional burst of music from a corner where musicians played.
For the occasion, you had chosen to wear a simple yet vibrant outfit reflecting both cultures. Your skirt was a deep ocean blue, and tied to your head was a forest green scarf, symbolizing the waters surrounding Ithaca and its lush landscapes of land.
Today, you also decided to wear your golden laurel crown, feeling it was fitting for the day's significance. It sat atop your head, catching the sunlight and casting small glimmers onto the path ahead, a subtle reminder of your recent acknowledgment by the gods.
The decorations around you showcased the unity and contrasts of the two cultures. Stands were draped in rich blues and greens, interspersed with bold touches of yellow and red, symbolizing the mingling of wisdom and valor, peace and conflict. Banners fluttered in the breeze, displaying symbols of olive branches and swords crossed in harmony.
As you made your way through the festival, absorbing the lively atmosphere, you suddenly heard your name. Turning toward the sound, you saw Callias making his way toward you with an excited grin, dodging past other festival-goers with a nimble grace that reflected his light spirits. His friends followed, laughing and chatting amongst themselves, clearly caught up in the festive spirit.
"Look who finally decided to join us!" Callias exclaimed as he reached you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I was beginning to think you'd miss all the fun."
You couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "What's got you in such a rush?"
Callias' grin widened as he gestured broadly to the scene around you. "How can you not be excited? It's not every day we get to see such a blend of Athena's calm and Ares' passion all in one place!"
His excitement was contagious, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be fully drawn into the joy of the festival, the earlier weight of divine secrets momentarily lightened by the simple pleasure of the celebration.
The rest of the group finally caught up, each one of them wearing bright smiles that mirrored the festive spirit in the air. "Took you long enough," Callias teased as they approached, his tone light and jovial.
Kieran laughed, rolling his eyes. "We would've been here sooner if Lysandra hadn't insisted on rescuing that runaway scarf from a tree," he said, nodding towards Lysandra who was adjusting a beautifully intricate scarf back around her neck.
"Oh, stop it. It's my favorite scarf, and you know it," Lysandra retorted with a playful swat at Kieran's arm. She then turned to you, her eyes brightening as she noticed your attire. "Oh, I love how you're embracing the festival theme with that crown. It suits you beautifully," she complimented, stepping closer to get a better look.
You felt a flush of warmth at her words, your hand subconsciously reaching up to touch the golden laurel crown. "Thank you," you replied, a bashful smile playing on your lips. You straightened up, cleared your throat, and looked around at the group, eager to dive into the festival's offerings. "So, where to first?"
Surprisingly, it was Asta who stepped forward with a wide grin, her energy almost palpable. "There's this one stall you absolutely have to try," she began, her voice filled with excitement as she grabbed your hand and started pulling you along. "They've got these amazing Brontean pastries I think you'll love!"
Feeling a flutter of excitement at the prospect of exploring the festival with people your age, you allowed yourself to be led by Asta, her enthusiasm infectious. You cast a half-joking, half-helpless look over your shoulder at Callias, Kieran, and Lysandra, hearing Kieran snort in amusement. "Oh, get ready guys—Asta's going to ramble her ear off about every dish she has to try."
The group's laughter mingled with the music and chatter around you, the sounds of the festival enveloping you in a tapestry of joy and camaraderie.
As Asta pulled you along, weaving through the bustling festival, the next hour unfolded like a colorful tapestry of sights, sounds, and scents.
The festival grounds were alive with energy, each corner bursting with the vibrant traditions of both Ithaca and Bronte. Stalls lined up one after another, each adorned with banners flaunting deep ocean blues and forest greens of Athena's domain, contrasted sharply by the bold yellows and fiery reds representing Ares' territory.
The visual blend of colors not only marked the festival grounds but also symbolized the union of two distinct cultures under a banner of temporary peace and celebration.
You passed by games of skill and chance that drew lively crowds—children and adults alike shouting in excitement. Ithacan games focused more on strategy and skill, like archery contests where participants needed a keen eye and a steady hand. In contrast, Brontean games seemed to revel in strength and endurance, featuring competitions like hammer throws and tug-of-war, which showcased the brute force for which Ares' followers were renowned.
The food stalls were an adventure in themselves.
You sampled dishes that were a fusion of both kingdoms' flavors, but it was a particular pastry that caught your attention, thanks to Asta's insistence. Called "Ambrosia's Delight," this pastry was a deceptive treat—golden and dusted with a shimmering sugar that suggested a saccharine taste. However, upon biting into it, the unexpected bitterness mingled with a subtle sweetness, revealing a complexity that mirrored the delicacy's cultural significance in Bronte.
Apparently, it was a revered treat, enjoyed especially during festivals, symbolizing that even the most heavenly things can have a bitter truth beneath their golden exterior; a very Bronte lesson, considering Ares' patronage and their warrior mindset.
Amidst the laughter and cheers, you found yourself fully immersed in the festival's lively atmosphere, each new stall offering a small window into the traditions that shaped the daily lives of both Ithacan and Brontean citizens.
Asta, ever enthusiastic, narrated anecdotes about each game and dish, bringing them to life with her vibrant descriptions and personal tales. Her stories painted a picture of Bronte's rugged landscapes and the resilient spirit of its people, making you appreciate the depth of her homeland's culture even more.
Just then, Kieran, ever eager to explore more, pointed towards a nearby stall. "Look! They're starting a puppet show over there," he announced, his eyes lighting up as he gestured towards a small crowd gathering a few feet away.
Callias, still grinning from his earlier teasing, leaned in with an exaggerated smirk. "A puppet show, Kieran? What are you, five? Next, you'll be asking for—Oh," His words died in his throat as his gaze landed on someone passing out candy to the children. "They're giving out free samples of Warrior's Ember?"
Kieran barely had time to process Callias' sudden shift before Callias lunged forward, practically shoving past him. "Hey! Watch it!" Kieran yelped, stumbling as he tried to keep up.
"You watch it!" Callias shot back, his usual grace momentarily forgotten as he tripped over Kieran's foot in his rush to get to the glistening treats wrapped in parchment.
The two crashed into each other, a flailing mess of limbs and fabric, before nearly toppling to the ground. Kieran let out a dramatic "oof!" as he scrambled to stay upright, gripping Callias' sleeve for balance.
Callias, undeterred, used Kieran as leverage to push himself forward, regaining his footing before bolting toward the stall. "Out of my way, I'm getting one first!"
"You are not!" Kieran huffed, recovering quickly before chasing after him, both of them shoving and stumbling in a ridiculous race toward the vendor.
Lysandra let out a long-suffering sigh, shaking her head as she watched the two nearly tackle each other over candy. "Men," she muttered under her breath, crossing her arms before turning toward the puppet show. "I'll go ahead and save us a seat. No point in waiting for them to finish embarrassing themselves."
Asta snorted but nodded. "Good idea."
With that, Lysandra strode off with the air of someone who had witnessed this nonsense too many times before, leaving the boys to their fate.
By the time you and Asta arrived at the puppet show, it was just kicking off. Lysandra had managed to save you both seats, and you slipped into them just as the first puppet appeared.
You glanced over and saw Callias and Kieran a few feet ahead. They were surrounded by a cluster of children, all of whom were watching the show with rapt attention while munching on the colorful candy Callias had been so excited about.
You couldn't help but snort softly at the sight—Callias seemed just as enthralled as the kids, his eyes wide, a piece of candy halfway to his mouth as he stared at the unfolding drama.
You turned your attention to the show, where a vibrant display of craftsmanship was evident in the detailed puppet figures that danced and twirled under the skilled manipulation of the puppeteers. The puppet show was a vibrant tableau of color and movement, drawing you into a world woven from threads of Brontean mythology and lore.
The story unfolded through a series of ornately dressed puppets, each character vividly brought to life by the skilled hands of the puppeteers behind the scenes.
The main character was a Brontean hero, a figure of might and ambition, dressed in a costume that shimmered with hints of dark green and gold, reflecting the militaristic and ambitious nature of his homeland. His armor was intricately designed, each plate carefully crafted to catch the light with every movement, casting tiny reflections across the awed faces of the audience.
As the play began, the hero was introduced in a dramatic fashion. The puppeteers manipulated him to stand tall and proud on the makeshift stage, a wooden sword held high, his voice—projected by a hidden actor—booming across the open space.
"Behold, I am Calix, chosen by Ares, to lead and conquer, to carve my destiny with the edge of my blade!" the puppet declared, his voice echoing with a mix of pride and foreboding.
The story that unfolded was one of epic battles and cunning strategies. Calix, the puppet hero, faced a series of challenges, each more daunting than the last, involving treacherous enemies and mythical beasts. His journey was not just one of physical combat but also of intellectual warfare, as he sought to outmaneuver his rivals and secure his place in the annals of Brontean legends.
You watched, fascinated, as Calix navigated through political intrigue and battlefield prowess, his ambitions growing with each victory. The puppets representing his enemies were equally impressive, adorned in darker hues, their faces carved to express the malice and desperation of those threatened by Calix's rise.
At one point, the tension on the stage reached a peak when Calix faced his greatest enemy—a rival warrior king who had been his friend in their youth. The scene was charged with emotional conflict, the dialogue poignant.
"Why do you climb so high, Calix, only to find yourself alone at the summit?" the rival king asked, his puppet's face twisted in a mix of anger and sorrow.
Calix responded with a steely gaze, his voice unwavering. "It is better to reign in solitude than to kneel in crowded submission."
You found yourself leaning over to whisper to Lysandra, seeking more context. "Is this a famous story in Bronte?" you asked, your voice low amid the rapt silence of the surrounding crowd.
Lysandra nodded, her eyes not leaving the stage. "Yes, it's the tale of Calix the Ambitious, a hero who teaches us both the power of relentless ambition and the isolation it can bring. It's celebrated but also serves as a cautionary tale for those wise enough to heed it."
The play concluded with Calix achieving his ultimate goal, ascending to the highest throne, but at the cost of his personal connections. The final scene showed him alone on his throne, the cheers of his army echoing hollowly in the distance as he looked out over a vast, empty battlefield.
As the puppets took their final positions and the puppeteers bowed to the applause of the crowd, you sat back, the story's moral lingering in your mind. The spectacle had been thrilling, but the underlying message was a somber reflection on the price of unchecked ambition.
The crowd around you erupted into applause, their cheers a mixture of admiration for the puppeteers' skill and contemplation of the tale's deeper meanings. You clapped along, your thoughts still intertwined with the hero's lonely victory as the group prepared to move on to the next attraction, the weight of the story adding a thoughtful note to the festival's festive atmosphere.
As you and your friends wandered through the festival, each stall and display seemed to offer a new facet of Bronte's culture to explore. The air was thick with the scents of spiced meats and sweet pastries, each stand adorned with vibrant banners that reflected the kingdom's love for bold colors and grand statements.
Here, the influence of Ares, the god of war, was evident in the displays of armor and weapons, not just as tools of conflict but as art forms to be admired. Each piece told a story of battles won and the glory of individual valor.
Callias and his friends pointed out various items, sharing bits of Bronte's history with you. "In Bronte, strength and cunning are more than just traits," Callias explained as you passed a display of intricately carved swords. "They're virtues, celebrated and honed from a young age. It's about rising through the ranks, proving your worth in every aspect of life."
Lysandra chimed in, her voice tinged with a mixture of pride and caution. "But that ambition often comes with a cost. It can drive people to greatness, or to acts of ruthless determination. It's admired, yes, but feared too."
The group's conversation gave you deeper insight into the dual nature of Bronte's values—admirable yet intimidating, a culture where power was both a goal and a gauge of one's worth. This realization made the tales of their heroes, like the puppet show's Calix, resonate more deeply. They were not just stories of adventure; they were reflections of Bronte'very soul.
After a while, the group stopped by a water stand, quenching their thirst and taking a brief respite from the midday sun. The festival air buzzed with life—laughter, chatter, the distant echo of music—but as you wiped the back of your hand against your damp forehead, your gaze drifted past the stalls, catching on something... peculiar.
A stand stood slightly apart from the others, nestled in the shadow of a faded, canvas tent. Unlike the bright Brontean and Ithacan booths—draped in banners, gold accents, and vibrant tapestries—this one was plain, almost rickety, with wooden posts that looked as if they had weathered far too many storms. The cloth of the tent, a once-rich shade now dulled by time and dust, stretched overhead, providing a pool of shade that contrasted sharply with the glaring midday light.
A rickety wooden chair sat in front of the stand, slightly off-center, its legs uneven against the dirt-packed ground, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze, creaking softly, though no one sat in it. Yet.
Unlike the other stalls, which called to passersby with boisterous vendors and enticing displays, this one seemed to exist in its own quiet space—an oddity among the grandeur, tucked away yet deliberately placed, as if waiting for the right kind of customer to notice it.
You would have walked right past it if Callias hadn't paused, squinting at the signage that promised insights from the "Mystic Seer of the East." "Hey, Kieran," Callias called out, his tone playful yet curious, "isn't that from the cargo ship that docked this morning? The one with all the unusual crates?"
Kieran hummed thoughtfully, peering at the stand with renewed interest. "Yeah, I think it is. I saw them setting it up early today. Didn't think much of it then, but..." His voice trailed off as he eyed the colorful drapes and the strange, mystical symbols that decorated the booth.
The allure of the unknown was too much to resist. Intrigued, you all approached the stand, drawn by the promise of a different kind of knowledge, perhaps even a glimpse into futures unseen. The psychic's booth, with its mysterious air and out-of-place appearance, offered a break from the cultural exhibitions, a dip into the intriguing world of the mystical and unexplained.
Stepping closer, you felt a mix of excitement and a hint of apprehension—the unknown always carried a thrill, but with it, a shadow of risk. What secrets might the seer reveal, and were you truly prepared to hear them?
Surprisingly, it was Asta who first broke the group's hesitation. "Let's check it out," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of mischief. Her suggestion was met with a round of nodding heads, and together you moved closer to the peculiar stand.
As you approached, a soft jingle echoed from within the tent, like wind chimes stirred by a gentle breeze. Then, with a flourish of colorful fabric, a veiled woman stepped from behind the curtains. She was an enigmatic figure, draped in layers of flowing garments that whispered with every movement, adorned with tiny bells and jangles that tinkled melodiously around her wrists and ankles. Her face was obscured by a sheer veil, and her hands—visible as she gestured to you—were intricately tattooed with symbols and patterns that spiraled across her skin, adding to her mystique.
Positioning herself behind the stand, she began to shuffle a deck of cards with a practiced ease, the cards flipping and dancing between her decorated fingers. "Welcome," she intoned, her voice smooth and slightly accented, "I am Eione, keeper of secrets and seer of futures." Her eyes, the only part of her face visible through the veil, sparkled with a challenge as she continued, "Step forward and receive your future, if you dare."
The group exchanged hesitant glances, the air thick with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Then, with a shrug and a grin that bordered on reckless, Kieran stepped forward. Flipping a rickety chair around, he sat down backwards on it, resting his arms over the backrest, and smiled charmingly at Eione. "Hit me with your best shot," he said, his demeanor casual but his eyes alight with intrigue.
Eione paused, her hands stilling over the deck. She studied Kieran for a moment, her head tilting slightly as if measuring his boldness. Then, with a mysterious smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes, she drew a card and placed it on the table before him, face up.
The card depicted two figures standing beneath a radiant sun, their hands almost touching, a choice lingering between them. Behind them, a mountain loomed, and above, an angel watched, as if guiding their fate.
"Ah," she said, her voice carrying a note of amusement, "the Lovers Return. It seems an old flame may rekindle for you, young man."
Kieran raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and skepticism crossing his features. You noticed him shift slightly, straightening in his chair as he leaned forward to get a better look at the card. The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth before he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head with a dismissive snort. "Can't wait to see that drama unfold," he said, his tone light but with a curious undertone that betrayed his interest.
He stood up from his chair, brushing off his trousers as he gestured grandly to the others, encouraging someone else to take a turn. Lysandra started to move forward, but Eione raised a hand, stopping her with a soft but firm, "Wait."
Turning her gaze between Lysandra and Asta, Eione's expression grew thoughtful, her eyes narrowing slightly as if reading something unseen in the air around them. "Both of you, come forward together," she instructed, her voice carrying a note of certainty. "Your futures are deeply intertwined."
The two women exchanged a look, a mixture of excitement and nervousness passing between them before they stepped up to the table as one. Eione shuffled the deck again, her fingers dancing expertly over the cards before she drew two and placed them side by side.
The first card a brilliant sun shining over a child on horseback in a filed of blooming sunflowers, its rays stretching across a clear blue sky—symbolic of happiness and new beginnings. The second card showed a regal woman seated on a lush throne, surrounded by wheat fields and blooming flowers, in a gown adorned with pomegranates representing growth and the deepening of bonds.
"Joy and growth await you both," Eione declared, her voice soft yet resonant in the quiet that had settled around the booth. "Your paths are woven together, reinforcing each other's strength and bringing light to shared endeavors."
Lysandra and Asta looked at each other, smiles slowly spreading across their faces as they absorbed the seer's words. The connection between them, always palpable to those who knew them well, seemed to solidify with the turn of the cards, their hands reaching out to clasp each other's in silent acknowledgment of their shared future.
After Lysandra and Asta had their futures read, their smiles seemed to brighten the space around them. Lysandra, still caught in the high of the moment, turned over her shoulder and called out to Callias, "Your turn, huh?" But he just shook his head, a playful smirk spreading across his face as he declined. "I think I know enough of my future for one day," he said, his eyes crinkling with mirth.
With Callias opting out, Eione's gaze shifted toward you. The intensity of her look made you pause as she asked, "And what about you? Would you like to see what the future holds?" Her voice was smooth, inviting yet somehow imposing.
You hesitated, the weight of the recent revelations about divine influences making you uncertain. But curiosity, and perhaps a desire for some control over the unknown, nudged you forward. You nodded, taking a deep breath, and walked over to sit across from her.
As you settled into the rickety chair, Eione studied you for a long moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to peer into your very soul. She began shuffling the cards, her movements precise and deliberate. Her eyes seemed to glaze over, as if she were seeing something beyond the physical space of the festival. You couldn't help of bein in awe, noticing how her lips moved in silent whispers, adding to the mystique of her craft. 
Then, unexpectedly, her hand faltered.
The cards slipped from her grasp, scattering across the table. Five of them landed face up, splayed in a haphazard arrangement. You leaned forward, your heart pounding as you took in the images on the cards. You weren't sure what they meant, but each of them were richly illustrated, the symbols vivid and ominous.
As you absorbed the powerful imagery, Eione let out a soft, almost imperceptible gasp. Her eyes, previously glazed over as if she were in a trance, sharpened suddenly as they landed on you. Coming out of her daze, her voice grew soft yet carried a weight that drew your ears closer. "I notice the mark of Apollo's favor," she said, her gaze intensifying as she gestured subtly toward you. "It's like a barrier of protection over your fate."
She leaned forward, her hands hovering over the cards as if to gather them but then paused, offering to explain their meanings. "You have much ahead of you," she said, her finger tracing the air above each card as if to underline their importance.
Just as Eione opened her mouth to delve deeper into the explanation, the distant sound of trumpets and the loud announcement of the tournament beginning cut through the atmosphere. The woman sighed, a flicker of frustration crossing her features at the interruption.
With a resigned smile, she quickly listed off the meanings of each card, her words concise but laden with significance. "The Hanged Man calls you to let go and view things from a new perspective, The High Priestess urges you to trust your intuition, The Tower warns of necessary upheaval, The Wheel of Fortune reminds you that life is a cycle of ups and downs, and Judgment... Judgment is a calling to rise and rebirth."
Her eyes met yours once more, lingering with something unreadable. "May you find your answers in these," she murmured, her voice laced with quiet knowing, as if she already understood what was coming.
Then, with a graceful rise from her seat, Eione collected the cards with a sweep of her hands, the images disappearing into the deck with an almost magical fluidity. She nodded to you politely before turning and walking back inside her tent, the curtains closing softly behind her.
Left with a mind swirling with the cryptic messages of the tarot and the enigmatic advice of the fortune teller, you sat for a moment, collecting your thoughts. The festival around you buzzed with excitement and noise, but for a brief moment, you were anchored in a sea of introspection, pondering the path laid out before you by the cards.
Callias broke the heavy silence with his characteristic levity. "Is that the kind of mythical shit that happens when I'm not around?" He tutted playfully, shaking his head. "I'm going to have to really stick around if I'm trying to see a god."
Lysandra, Asta, and Kieran reacted with a mix of surprise and concern. "Damn, that was kind of eerie," Lysandra murmured, her eyes wide as she glanced at the tent Eione had disappeared into.
"Did y'all feel that? That was... cryptic," Kieran added, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily.
Asta, noticing your subdued mood, changed the subject to lighten the atmosphere. "Uh, so, are you excited about the tournament?" she asked, her voice bright with curiosity.
You blinked, taken aback. "What tournament?" The question slipped out before you could catch it.
Callias let out an exaggerated sigh and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, helping you up from your seat. "Poor thing, nothing really gets into that head but music, huh?" he teased, leading you away from the fortune teller's stand. "Didn't you hear? They announced a jousting tournament between the two kingdoms."
The group erupted into laughter at his playful jab, and you couldn't help but smile, playfully punching Callias' arm. "You could have just told me instead of making fun," you chided, though the warmth in your voice betrayed your amusement.
"What's the fun in that?" His laughter rang out as he steered the group toward the tournament grounds, the earlier tension dissipating into the festive air filled with anticipation for the upcoming event. The contrast between the mystical encounter and the lively festival atmosphere felt stark, yet somehow fitting as you all moved together towards the new diversion, the promise of excitement drawing you back into the present moment.
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A/N: double update!?! ka0chowwwww. but fr, i got a great explanation for leaving you guys for a bit... somehow, I recently lost some of my notes for upcoming chapters and had to re-write the ending from memory... i was trynna be a show-off to my sis show her how long i had the damn thing (since like when epic first caught my eye around 2021 and i was just writing lil headcanons)  and ended up pressing delete part 😭😭😭 the way my heart dropped to my ass was truly an experience. anywho good news, while re-writing it, i got inspired while smoking for a new fic that will be happening immediately after this one, and y'all i'm so hyped frr, might just drop the first chapter to show you guys soon. other than that, hope you guys have been taking care of yourselves, i know real life has been tough for a lot of us lately, but dont give up, we still got shit to do ❤️❤️ we got this babes, see you
Tag List: nerds4life246 ace-spades-1 uniquetravelerone alassal thesimppotato11 jackintheboxs-world kahlan170 akiqvq matchaabread danishland uselessmoonlight apad-ravya suckerforblondies jolixtreesunn dreamtheatre woncloudie byzantiumhollow kisskisskys b4ts1e sarcasticbitchsblog
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empress-of-snark · 11 months ago
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maybe I’m wrong
won’t you tell me if I’m coming on too strong?
this heart of mine has been hurt before
this time I want to be sure
stranger things rarepair collection
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weirdglassthing · 4 months ago
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LOA Shiptober Day 4: How They Met
October content month was ambitious..
This one took me. Shockingly long. Whoops! I’ll probably end up jumping around the prompt list and it might extend into November 😋
I’ll try to do day 31 on the actual date of Halloween though 🫡
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dootznbootz · 6 months ago
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Diomedes appreciation ask :3
Ohoho >:3
Let me preface by saying that Diomedes to me is not like how most of the fandom view him
The Boy King who is basically like the TV Trope of "Small child with Propeller hat, lollipop, and tricycle" but instead of that, he's "Young babyfaced man" and replace all those items with a helmet, a spear, and the tricycle with a chariot :D AND THEN COVER HIM WITH BLOOD!
That's Diomedes to me. :3
As idk I kind of imagine him being around 20-21 while most of the other Achaean Kings are late 20s to mid/late-30s
He's young and incredibly experienced in war and that's basically where he feels the most comfortable. He is one of the youngest kings there, who VERY much looks up to his elders and respects them while also wanting to "be a proud king" as well. He's just a child soldier among these actual warlords. As, let's be real, Diomedes would probably suck at Diplomacy. Because he never really got to DO it. Even when he told off that messenger from Troy about how Paris was willing to give back the treasure he stole, that wasn't...very tactful. lol) I love that he has this almost "Notice me, Senpai" energy around the older guys lol
I love that he's basically the embodiment of Athena's "war" side. He follows orders very well (basically too well (Yes he mouths off and that time Zeus had to yell at him. I know. but he was in a battle frenzy)) He's very respectful of Athena despite already being favored by her. There's a lot to unpack for this poor guy with being a child soldier ;~;
AND I FUCKING ADORE HIM AND STHENELUS. THEY ARE SUCH FUCKING BROS. STHENELUS IS BASICALLY HIS LIL CHEERLEADER AND I LOVE IT. They're like a Traumatized bonded pair. Epigoni guys!!!
To me I always imagine him being short af because I really love the "Oh, he's so young and small! What's he gonna do?" only to get annihilated stuff. Smol rabid dog energy >:3
Also, bit of a headcanon but you know he thinks that Achilles was fucking pampered and spoiled xD "You think you're hot shit? Try being in wars since you could walk, Centaur boy >:( "
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thatswhatsushesaid · 7 months ago
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i do understand and acknowledge that most people who pick up mdzs and get really into it walk away from the experience with wangx!an brainrot that brings them joy and suffering (affectionate) in equal measure, and--unless they're assholish at me or my pals--i wish all of those people well and hope that the veritable cornucopia of wangx!an content on this webbed site and AO3 is everything they've ever wanted out of their fandom experience. wwx is the protagonist, lwj is his court-appointed soulmate, their happily ever after is what most people pick up the books wanting to experience, and that's, you know, fine. live your bliss etc.
i just hope that one day it won't be such a hot and controversial take for fans who didn't develop wangx!an brainrot, and who found something and/or someone else more compelling and engaging about the text, to be able to say as much, and talk about it as much as we want to, without generating a bunch of passive-aggressive--or aggressive-aggressive--commentary from hardcore wangx!an stans who seem to take our disinterest in the central romance personally for whatever reason. like genuinely i would probably not dislike wangx!an as much as i have come to dislike them if i hadn't been inundated with very rude reblog commentary or anon asks early on in my fandom experience just for saying /checks my notes, "maybe jin guangyao isn't evil, actually. maybe wei wuxian did some things wrong."
dgmw, i'm glad that lots of people here are able to like jgy, for example, and still enjoy wwx and wangx!an specifically. but for those of us who don't, or who are struggling to rediscover some affection for the main pair, this attitude.... did not develop in a vacuum lol. i would just like for people to bear that in mind, i guess.
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afrenomes · 7 months ago
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I think it’s time my family stop calling people whose last names are Shapiro as just their last names and instead call them by their full names and/or titles
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vilevampire · 2 years ago
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someday in this fandom I'll get dragged into drama over controversial ship opinions and when that happens I want you all to remember me fondly because frankly I will drop dead on the spot
#there was a thread on twt like qrt with your opinions on these ships#and I checked some of it and I. so many ppl dislike kalrobin actually. including ppl who follow me??????#honestly I'm used to my fave ships and stuff having no content like c'mon I'm a viewtiful joe fan I'm super used to it#but seeing ppl hate on my fave ships is kinda heartbreaking actually#especially kalrobin and jazzllocer like ugh ugh ugh those r my otps#and I'm not a fan of the most popular kalego ship outside of the context of kalego x robin x balam#I'm just waiting for the day somebody gets beef w/ me for not liking kalego with balam or jazz with lied or iruma with amelie#or for being annoyed at certain aspects of iruma x azz#literally most popular ship in the fandom. I feel like I could make so many people mad with that one#I'm very niceys though I hate fandom drama I don't want to buy a fight with anybody I just want to make content for my rareships in peace#I am!!!! a little sad!!!!!! kinda bummed even!!!!!!#yk on mairumatwt there's this one guy that's also called lucas and he's also brazilian#but he hates kalrobin and sees jazz and allocer as brothers. I've never interacted w/ him but I think he's my evil doppelganger#actually I'm the evil one. like hello guy litcherally named vile over here#anw. kind of a little very sad I think this is the first time I've seen so many ppl hate something that makes me really happy.#and I have no idea why some of them follow me it just confuses me hddgijdgd#lucasings
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yeahxsurexokay13 · 2 months ago
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wrong guy, lando norris
summary: fans think yn is dating max, but they've got the wrong guy [bsf!reader]
been a min since i posted! honestly, these just take me way too long and i usually end up abandoning them because i start hating them halfway through from overthinking lol. hope you enjoy this one though (: xx
y/n.y/l 📍 Ibiza, Spain
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Liked by riabish, carlossainz55 and 159.870 others
y/n.y/l we only argued 3 times, cried 2, and got lost 1 (personal record)
view all 579 comments
user9 right so who argued? who cried? and most importantly whO IS THE SHADOW?
user14 can we talk about how u're LITERALLY glowing in that first pic? u look so happy, girl!!
user20 the vibes on this dump… rich people's holidays just hit different.
iamrebeccad ✓ Beautiful girl 😍
y/n.y/l 🫶🏼 miss youu!!
user4 “cried 2 times” is actually impressive ♥︎ by author
user55 lando and max just casually being brothers in the fourth pic 😩❤️
user81 that shot is just *chef’s kiss*!!!! Glad we can always count on this queen for hq content
user63 Okay so I’ve been staring at this shadow pic for like 10 minutes, and I can’t figure it out…
user33 my money’s on max bc that hug pic of them earlier too… feels very coupley.
user63 idk friends to lovers agenda thriving tho
user3 Max and Lando with the face masks are killing me 😂 ♥︎ by author
user6 max or lando? place your bets now. i’m team max but i’ll die on this hill if i'm wrong
user2 which you are, because it’s definitely Lando
user8 guys they’ve literally known each other since forever and go on these friends holidays all the time lmao this is just FRIENDSHIP GOALS. stop romanticising everything!!!
user24 then explain the head kiss?
user8 friendly head kisses???
user24 friendly kisses?? in this economy? be serious. that’s couple behaviour
user12 smells like a third wheel in here…
y/n.y/l sorry, that's just me. i am the third wheel🙋🏼‍♀️
user13 she really said 'stop shipping me with my best friends' lol
user44 max and lando with the face masks in the water might be my new favourite photo of all time
user16 ngl that's not bad statistics for a week long trip ♥︎ by author
user11 If it’s Max, I’ll cry. If it’s Lando, I’ll cry harder. If it’s neither, I don’t know what I’ll do.
user18 i’ve been following these three for years and i’m still trying to figure out if that last slide is supposed to be romantic or not….? HELP I AM SO CONFUSED
user22 what book is that? i need recommendations!!
y/n.y/l just for the summer!!! LOVED it x
user10 i can’t believe she was so chill about posting thAT LAST PIC!??!! miss y/l!!! SPILL NOW
maxfewtrell ✓ Why are you saying 'we'? Pretty sure you were the one who did all of those
landonorris ✓ classic move, shifting the blame
y/n.y/l @/landonorris @/maxfewtrell the getting lost part was definitely a team effort
user1 I need to go on a trip with friends like this ♥︎ by author
user5 being that close to lando AND max and surviving the friendship without catching feelings was too good to be true let's be honest
pietra.pilao 😍😍
y/n.y/l 💞💞
user7 so when’s the next ‘friends holiday'? asking for a friend (me)
15 August 2024
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maxfewtrell ✓
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Liked by landonorris, y/n.y/l and 98.982 others
maxfewtrell The real girlfriend reveal, for the record 🫡
👤 pietra.pilao
view all 398 comments
user1 WAIT WHAT
user6 so it really wasn’t Y/n??
pietra.pilao ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author
user4 omg she's the girl who commented on yn's holiday dump!!!
user3 We owe Max and his gf an apology 😭 She’s stunning, btw
user2 omg u two are so cuteeeeeeee! happy for u max :)
user5 your gf is so pretty 😭😭😭
y/n.y/l P!!!! 💕💕
y/n.y/l you two make a better couple than you and I ever would anyway 😂 ♥︎ by author
user9 WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS EARLIER?! we’ve been spiralling for WEEKS
user12 actually he's been saying it from the beginning. we just didn't want to listen 😂😂
user8 max: “here’s my gf. leave me out of y/n’s business”
user12 OK but pietra is STUNNING!! Max, you’ve been hiding her for how long?!
user7 the way he had to clarify this because of us is actually hilarious. sorry, Max.
user11 OMG I feel so dumb now we really had y/n in a whole relationship she wasn’t even in 😭
29 August 2024
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y/n.y/l
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Liked by oscarpiastri, sophiaaemelia and 289.034 others
y/n.y/l outtakes from ai·bee·thuh
view all 930 comments
user1 AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!?? MYSTERY SOLVED IG
user12 I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE GREATEST THING TO HAPPEN TO MY FEED THIS YEAR I AM NOT EVEN JOKING
maxfewtrell ✓ So Lando gets the cute video and I get the passed out in the car pic? Playing favourites, I see. Noted.
user8 Max calling out Y/n for favoritism is peak sibling energy
user33 i can't believe we were full on shipping them not even a week ago omg
maxfewtrell ✓ Also, can everyone stop tagging me in that shadow pic now? Like, I’m good, it’s definitely not me 😅 ♥︎ by author
user11 pietra honestly deserves a medal for surviving this holiday with these three omg
user17 GUYS I WAS ALREADY PRETTY SHOCKED AT LANDO'S VIDEO BLOWING A KISS I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I HAD COMING
pietra.pilao Special week 🤍 ♥︎ by author
user81 the lift photo with the McDonald’s bag is so relatable. even on a fancy holiday, you gotta have your nuggets ♥︎ by author
user25 turns out Max wasn't lying when he said y/n wasn’t his headache... lando’s the lucky one 😂
user10 and y/n and pietra? they do ✨besties ✨ better than anyone ♥︎ by author
user19 can we get a ‘whoops, my bad’ from the ppl who saw them in Ibiza and STILL missed the fact that Pietra was there?
user2 they literally had a front row seat to the full gossip and still didn’t catch on !!!!! like hELLO? u had one job
user14 THE SOFT LAUNCH TURNED INTO A HARD LAUNCH REAL QUICK I AM SHOOK
alexandrasaintmleux ✓ Ahhh loveeee 🩷🩷 ♥︎ by author
user26 both boys punching above their weight fr. i said what i said.
francisca.cgomes ✓ ❤️❤️😍 ♥︎ by author
user16 The way Max is sleeping in that last pic has me wheezing ♥︎ by author
user3 lando is literally holding y/n like he’s never letting her go boy is WHIPPED
user29 WE'RE GOING TO SEE "LANDO NORRIS' PARTNER" UNDER YN'S NAME NOW WHEN SHE WATCHES FROM THE GARAGE what a time to be alive
user7 not the way y/n is casually posting a McDonald’s bag in a robe and THEN dropping the most beautiful couple pic with lando
user5 waIT SO THE BOY KISSING HER HEAD IN THE SHADOW PIC WAS LANDO??? WE WERE ALL WRONG. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.
maxfewtrell you know, it truly baffles me how this was barely even considered
y/n.y/l no one believed in me enough to be able to pull f1 race winner lando norris. humbling.
user20 YN I - 😭😭😭😭💀💀
user38 it was a couple’s holiday the whole time 😭😭 I need a moment to recover
user9 this fandom’s clownery knows no bounds istg.........
user21 not me crying over the hard launch of the year when I was just admiring Max’s sleeping face 5 seconds ago
user24 Ibiza really gave us everything: friendship goals, couple goals, and max in a food coma
user18 IT WAS LANDO KISSING HER HEAD. I feel so betrayed by my own theories and also pretty disappointed in myself i couldn't tell it was his shadow
landonorris ✓ I see you saved the best for last 🖤
y/n.y/l ☺️☺️
y/n.y/l omg guys i wasn’t being dry i just don’t know what else to say with all you watching 😭😭
1 September 2024
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cutetanuki-chan · 9 days ago
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sometimes I see people being confused where alectostasia ship came from so here's a little bit of run down
I'm not really good with words so it might be clunky
what we know from the text
Anastasia tries to achieve 'perfect lyctorhood', something goes wrong during her ascension, John kills Samael, Anastasia fails her attempt
Anastasia moves to the ninth, continues working on the house or only founding it at that time
John asks Anastasia to help build the tomb 'I built that tomb with Anastasia, designed every inch of it.'
somewhere between working on it and Alecto's entombment, Alecto and Anastasia make a vow where Alecto basically swears as a cavalier to her 'Alecto said, I remember my vows. As I swore to Anastasia I swear to you. I am in your service until you bid me the favour, and whatsoever you appoint I shall perform, and consider the vow rendered. This is what I promised, until such a time as you deal with me as you see fit.'
as John leading Alecto to the tomb, she asks to see Anastasia 'She had said, There are almost no beautiful things left. Where is Anastasia? Let me talk to Anastasia.'
presumable Anastasia is the one to inflict to the ninth house importance of keeping her bloodline and worshiping of the tomb through all of those years
Anastasia's bones are in the tomb 'She looked back beyond, and she saw Anastasia, tucked where nobody would find her: Anastasia, all bones. Not really Anastasia. But Anastasia’s body without the meat on it, snuggled right into the curve of the rock, ready to close the door whenever it was opened. She remembered Anastasia.'
Alecto immediately getting chill after tasting Harrow's blood 'The child was silent; but her blood was on Alecto’s lips, and through that blood Alecto was made to understand what it was, and was astonished exceedingly. Alecto put away wrath and said: Thou art the blood of the tomb-keeper.'
Alecto saying sorry for Samael
the implications
the vow on itself is very interesting, at first we all know how usually normal cavalier and necromancer relationships are. then for Alecto to comply to that, indicates she should be pretty trusting of Anastasia, and their relationships at least somehow better than with other lyctors who were terrified of her
then there's also the tombkeeper blood thing, what serves as a check note for Alecto after waking up, and means the initial purpose of the ninth house was actually waiting for rock to roll away
and one part of the vow seems to imply 'if anyone beside a tombkeeper wake you, slay them as they came to hurt you', as could hinted on a protection from other lyctors who wanted to kill Alecto? (Then Alecto remembered the vow, and turned back upon the altar to face the second child and raised the sword with wrath in her heart, for they meant to bring destruction upon her.)
then the matter of Anastasia's bones laying in the tomb next to the rock. not sure if it's just her skeleton or she made herself a some construct mechanism from her bones. and not clear if she got entombed on her own volition or John closed them both there, but being entombed together five feet apart cause we are not gay
there's also some oddness in Alecto immediately after waking saying she's sorry for Samael, but I won't go into that here, anyway Anastasia was trying to find a better way to lyctorhood and I think in her more close relationships with Alecto she figured out something that John wasn't telling them, before or after her ascension
and some theories
I think I first heard this theory from @/mayasaura, that ninth house tradition of telling secrets while submerged in the salt water could've corelate with Anastasia trying to have a talk like that with Alecto since she feels the most at ease in the salt water, so means pool time for alectostasia too
another one that I really like but not sure how much legs it actually would have in canon, one of the reasons Nona was so enamored with her body cause Harrow is a spitting image of Anastasia, first saw @/corvophobia talking about it
coming back to Harrow, could there be anything more to her taking immediate affection to the Body a la some fuckery with Anastasia's spirt/tombkeeper's blood
more people explained it better, I try to reblog most of the theories in my side blog, you can check it out there but some of it explicit just in case
anyway in conclusion, as I keep procrastinating with my work, I don't think they were making out 24/7 in Canaan house in canon but something for sure happened there between them
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yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago
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Yandere Pirate Captain - Dubcon
Soft Dubcon A naive aristocrat's daughter, you're crossing the Atlantic in a heavily guarded ship. Pirates assume guns and guards mean treasure but when all they find is you, they decide to make the best of their luck.
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A pirate ship is a floating kingdom, with laws far different than those on land. To rise through the ranks, a pirate needs to be ruthless.
And Yandere! Pirate Captain earned his place at the top.
Yandere! Captain who's deadly as a shark and twice as cunning. Who wears a stolen Navy coat and twists gold through his dreadlocks. Who keeps a cutlass on his hip for honest fights and a knife in his boot for dirty ones.
When he sees your ship, he accurately assume rich passengers and plenty of gold. But what he wasn't expecting was you.
Yandere! Captain who catches your hair when you try and run past him. Who tosses you against the wall on instinct, his hand a vice around your throat.
And you whimper.
Yandere! Captain who feels something inside him flipping end over end when he hears it.
He's heard the roar of the sea and the thunder of canons. He's heard the whisper of daggers cutting through silk and the soft sigh of bodies falling limp. He's heard whores who moan like cats in heat.
But he's never heard a sound like that.
Yandere! Captain who can tell from the cut of your clothes and the shine of your jewelry that you're the daughter of a noble. But you sure as hell don't act like a high and mighty lady. Instead, you look up at him through eyes brimming with tears.
And you beg him not to kill you, promise that your father will pay whatever he wants.
Yandere! Captain who loosens his grip on you, his voice almost gentle when he promises not to hurt you if you come along quietly.
And you do. Walking along in front of him with your eyes down, trying not to cry.
You've heard awful stories about pirates - they kill for pleasure, they plunder for greed. And the very presence of the Captain terrifies you.
Yandere! Captain who takes you to his ship and treats you like a gentleman, who offers you his hand when you step off the gangplank and stumble.
Yandere! Captain who orders his men to bring you supper. The sun is long set by that point and as the night comes, his eyes roam lower and lower. There's a hunger in him that all the food in the world can't satisfy.
Yandere! Captain who offers you wine with supper, who watches you drink without ever touching his own glass. You sway when you try to stand and he's quick to catch you, quick to tease you about having no head for drink.
Quick to touch you but slow to let go.
Yandere! Captain who coos at the limp way you hang onto him. You feel worse than dizzy. You feel hot and woozy and confused. You don't notice when his hands drop from your waist to your hips.
Yandere! Captain who guides you to his bed, his smile a bit too sharp to be comforting.
You feel there's something amiss. Something you don't quite understand. But then he kisses your neck and all remnants of sense dissolve on his tongue.
Yandere! Captain who loves the way you gasp at every little touch. Who nips your earlobe and asks,
"Have ye ever had a man, little birdie?"
Yandere! Captain who smiles even deeper when you shake your head. Who runs his hands up your thighs and lifts your skirt inch by slow, tantalising inch.
"Would ye like me te be ye first?"
You remember the flash of his cutlass when he boarded your ship. You remember the easy way he pinned you to the wall by your throat. You remember the stories of pirates and their endless hunger for flesh. Somewhere in your drugged mind, you realise there's only one answer he wants to hear.
"Yes Captain."
Yandere! Captain who plays with your garters while he kisses up your neck. Who tugs them loose so sickeningly slow.
Yandere! Captain who presses his nose against your hair and breathes you in.
"Do ye have any idea what it's like to be a man at sea, lass? Te go months without a woman's touch?"
Yandere! Captain who takes your hand and presses it against his crotch. You can feel the hard outline of his cock even through the material.
"Te feel only ye own salt scarred hands on ye cock?"
It's so unfamiliar, so frightening, that you can't help but try and pull away. He hisses and drags you back, forces you to feel him all the way from balls to tip.
He groans, his face still buried in your hair. His other hand traces its way down your back, catching on the strings of your corset and loosening them a little at a time.
Yandere! Captain who slowly pulls himself away from your hair and brushes his lips against your jawline. Who holds your jaw in his calloused paw and forces you to look into his eyes before he kisses you.
Yandere! Captain who has salt on his skin and on his lips when he kisses you. Who nips at your bottom lip and tugs on it when he pulls away.
You're so glassy eyed, so entranced by him that he can't help but indulge.
Yandere! Captain who shrugs off his coat and brings your hands to the collar of his shirt. Who commands you to undress him.
Your fingers shake just a little when you pull at the ties holding it closed. You move down and tug at the hem. Your fingernails scrape the skin above his belt and he pulls in a sharp breath.
When his shirt is off, he takes your hand and draws it down his chest. From his heart to the buckle of his belt. Every inch of him is hard earned muscle - built by the spill of sea and salt and blood.
Yandere! Captain who watches you through half lidded eyes, his jaw clenched tight.
"Come now lass, ye remember how a belt works, don't ya?"
You paw at him and the sound of the buckle coming undone makes your breath hitch.
Yandere! Captain who comes to stand infront of you, his crotch just below eye level. He rests a hand on you head, fingers playfully knotting in your hair. But when you take too long, he gives your hair a sharp tug.
You pull his pants past his hips and his cock springs out. It's almost as thick as your forearm and you stare at it, dazed and confused and terrified.
Yandere! Captain who sighs and grabs it with one hand. He nudges it against your lips and its only his grip on your hair that keeps you from pulling away.
"Trust me lass, it'll hurt less this way."
You look up at him. Even through the haze of alcohol, you can recognise that his patience is wearing thin. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. You open your lips just enough to fit the tip.
Yandere! Captain who tastes like the salt of the sea and the salt of a man all at once. You lick his slit, shuddering at the taste.
Yandere! Captain who throws his head back and moans. Who pushes deeper inside you without warning and you close your mouth on instinct. Your teeth scrape his cock just a little but it makes him jerk out of you, hissing.
Yandere! Captain who pulls you back by your hair and slaps you hard across the face.
"No. Teeth. Got it?"
You nod, stunned and hurt. A naive part of you thought being intimate would keep him gentle. And it scares you to your core knowing the man about to fuck you is still just as capable of violence as he was before.
When he taps the tip against your lips again, you open wide and let him sink all the way down your throat. It takes everything in you not to gag or bite down on instinct.
Yandere! Captain who keeps going until his cock is a soaking, drool covered mess. Who growls at you in his brogue - what a good lass you are, tongue so warm and soft, takin' it like a bitch in heat.
Yandere! Captain who fucks your face until he's at the very edge, heat coiling in his balls. It takes everything in him to pull out, to not waste himself just in your mouth.
Yandere! Captain who pushes you down onto your back and slings your leg over his shoulder. Whose skin gleams in the lantern light, rich and dark as oil.
Yandere! Captain who leans down and kisses you. You pull away with a jerk and he follows you down, until you're trapped between the mattress and his lips. His tongue swipes at your teeth and the taste of him makes you light headed all over again. He tastes of rum and salt, he tastes of the Barbados coast in storm, he tastes like your ruin.
"Pretty lass, ye would tempt even a saint."
Yandere! Captain who sinks his cock into you oh so slowly. Who bottoms out and stays there, letting you adjust. Feeling you tremble around him and underneath him both. It's a rare thing to taste a virgin and he wants to savour every. little. bit.
"Poor sinner tha' I am, how could I resist ye?"
He grinds into you and you arch your back. Dig your nails into his skin and whimper that it hurts, that it burns.
Burns like sin, burns like lust and lechery.
Yandere! Captain who coos at you until you quiet. Who kisses away your tears oh so softly, oh so sweetly. Like he isn't the one causing them.
Yandere! Captain who has to grit his teeth to keep from ramming back into you. Who has to remind himself to savour this - you'll remember it for the rest of your life.
And when he does move, he goes gently. He fucks you like a lover (and doesn't that make it all the crueler? You don't love him. He has no right to touch you like he does).
Yandere! Captain who bottoms out again and again, pressing his lips against a different part of you every time.
Yandere! Captain who moves down your neck and across your collarbones, sucking and leaving lovebites behind. Marking his territory, staking his claim. When the sailors see you in the morning, they'll know exactly who you belong to.
Yandere! Captain who takes your nipple into your mouth and sucks at it, licks it with the hot edge of his tongue. And when you whine and say that feels so good, he bites down and tugs at it with his teeth.
Yandere! Captain who holds onto your waist with one hand and braces himself with the other, his palm digging into the sheets just above your head. Who tells you to take a deep breath and when you do, he shoves into you harder and faster than before.
Yandere! Captain who picks up the pace and gets sloppy with it, hands slipping over your skin like he can't catch a grip. Who feels his restraint teetering, who pants and growls like a mutt.
By the God of seven seas, you're tight. It doesn't take long for you come - you're a drugged up mess and he knows how to please a woman.
Yandere! Captain who fucks you through your orgasm, who keeps going even when you clench down on him. Who keeps fucking you even though you try and squirm away and complain that it's too much. It hurts too good.
When he comes, he does it deep inside you. It's reckless and some rational part of his mind reminds him to get you some contraceptive tea after this, but the rest of him is sunk in pleasure. In the animal need to fuck and claim and breed.
Yandere! Captain who pulls out of you oh so slowly. You're the first woman he's had in so damn long, and he's loathe to let you go. (He'll never let you go, he just doesn't know it yet).
Yandere! Captain who pushes two fingers into your cunt, feeling the way you close up and shudder around him. You've taken all you can handle and then some, poor little virgin.
Yandere! Captain who has blood on his cock and on his fingers. Blood staining his soul too, though you can't see it.
Yandere! Captain who looks you in the eye when he sucks the blood off his fingers and swallows it down.
"Now I've had all of ye, lass. The salt of ye tears, the copper of ye blood. Yer inside o' me, for always."
You're too woozy to understand why, but the way he says it frightens you. Makes your tears collect at your waterline and overflow down your temples. You have to try and muster your tongue before you finally manage to ask him if he's demanded a ransom yet.
Yandere! Captain who throws his head back and laughs.
"Oh, there's a price for ye life, little bird. But ye won't be paying it in cash."
You watch numbly as he puts his clothes and weapons back on. A captain's duties are never done - not even in the middle of the night.
Yandere! Captain who leans forward and kisses you one final time before pulling the blankets around you and blowing out the lantern. The door locks with a thud you feel echoing down your bones.
You touch your lips. You can taste your own cum and blood from his kiss.
Yandere! Captain who leaves you half naked on his bed with only the moon to comfort you. Cold and virginal and untouchable.
What a pity you couldn't stay so far out of reach.
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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 9 months ago
Text
THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x Reader )
AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen! Little Sister! Reader prompt: When the small council plans to marry off once again, you turn to your older brother for help. word count: 1, 000+ words
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You were the youngest and third daughter of Alicent and Viserys. A few months younger than Helaena and Aegon's little shadow in your childhood. Your older brother at first hated it, the way you cling onto him and gawk at him with an innocent awe.
It was your ninth name day, your Father had not paid much attention to it, but your Mother had ordered a celebration for it. You had trailed after him, babbling about nonsense as he tried to lose you. It was at dinner that night that everything had boiled over. Instead of receiving gifts, you had taken to giving everyone a gift.
He had not expected anything. He hadn't been the most kind to you. But was surprised when you had gifted him an embroidered cloth with Sunfyre on it. It was not the best and some threads were loose, but you proudly had told him you learned embroidery for him. Seeing those big doe eyes of yours his opinion changed. He adored you. You were the only one in the family that did not care about his worsening reputation. You just...adored your big brother, flaws and all.
It was why it killed him on your eleventh name day you were shipped off to the Reach, married off to a Lord as old as your Grandsire. He was haunted by your wails, of the way you clung onto Helaena and Aemond, the two of them wailing as Ser Cole carried you off to the carriage.
His young sister, the only one in the family who truly cared, was sold off like a piece of cattle. Not even your cold Grandsire was able to protest the marriage as politically it was a good match and good enough reasoning for the small council to approve it. 
As years ticked by, you gave birth to two children, a stillborn daughter and a healthy son. Your husband kept you away in the Reach, so no one in your family had seen you since you were twelve and given birth to your only surviving son.
He remembered the look in your eyes, so void and almost dead. Of how you tried to stay positive. Saying, "Tis' not so bad. He mostly ignores me, except when he wishes to bed me. But even then tis' not so bad, he finishes quickly."
When he became King, he swiftly ordered you to return home, regardless of your husband's wishes. No one would take his baby sister away from him. Not whilst he was still alive and had the crown placed upon his head.
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Watching you bounce your son on your lap, he attempts to pay some attention to the small council, but his eyes keep straying back to you. It was odd to think that you were now a Mother and all grown up. Snapping out of his little daze, he glances back at the small council, each member arguing intently. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Ser Criston slides a piece of parchment in front of him, an uncomfortable look on his face. Raising a brow at what he had just returned to, he glances at the parchment, reading the words quickly. 
Your cunt of a husband was dead, finally croaked in his sleep. There was no reason for you to go back to the Reach. You could stay here in King’s Landing once more. Softly smiling at the good news, he goes to speak up when Lord Lannister stands up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. His face red from anger, his eyes wild like an untamable beast, and voice booming loud enough that it would make a dragon’s roar put to shame.
“To speak of the Princess in such a manner is dishonorable, I will see to it personally that your tongue is removed, Lord Wydle.” 
“The girl is of age, she has proven she can bear heirs, healthy heirs. To not give her hand to another Lord would be foolish.” 
“We need allies, the common folk are starving and soon the coin will run out. Surely as Master of Coin you can see reason, Lord Lannister.”
“Your grace, please, listen to reason we should⎯”
It takes a moment to realize what they had been discussing so intently. Then it clicks, they were speaking of having you remarry. 
"What?" He whispers, his voice shaky and full of disbelief.
"No, Aegon, please don't make me do this again. Please." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.
"It would be best to have your sister marry someone⎯"
"Think of the war, your grace⎯"
Seeing the tears building up in your eyes, it reminded him of all those years ago when you were whisked away to the Reach. Struggling to speak up and dismiss their suggestions, you kneel in front of his chair, gripping onto breeches as you beg and plead for clemency to their plans. Your son starts to wail on the other side of his chair, making motions with his hands to be picked up. 
Feeling his heart break a little at the sight, he shifts his gaze from you then your wailing son then back to the small council. Everything is hectic and he doesn’t know who or what to focus his attention on. Does he console you? Does he tend to your wailing son? Does he handle the small council? Struggling to find his voice, he just stays frozen in his chair. 
“Please, please, do not make me do this again, Aegon.” You beg, “I did what was asked of me before. Please do not ask this of me again.”
“We need allies, your grace. The Princess is still desired by many men, men who will look past her past marriage and son. Think of the kingdom⎯”
“Send treaties, then!”
“Please, Aegon. I ask as your sister, not a member of the Court. Please do not make me do this again. I do not wish to marry again. Please do not send me away again.” You beg, your voice cracking. 
Watching as the tears begin to fall from your eyes, he clenches his jaw tightly, anger boiling up at the sight of you. His precious little sister, the one person in all of the Realm that he truly cared for, was crying by his small council's hand. Slamming his hands down hard on the table, the room goes deadly silent, minus the soft sniffles of you and your son. 
“There will be no marrying off my sister! If you wish for such alliances as much as you claim, do offer your daughters instead, for I will not be doing the same to my sister nor my daughter.” 
“Your grace, if you would just⎯”
“I am King, no?” He snaps back, “There will be no questioning of my decision. The matter is settled.”
----
@fragileheartbeats
@danytar
@nightvers
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cloudzoro · 7 months ago
Text
Non-sexual turn ons | One Piece ♡
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small, innocent things you do that turns them on
masterlist
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characters: law, nami, robin, zoro
genre: smut (minors dni)
cw: fem!reader, hair pulling for nami's, semi public making out/heavy petting
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Law - wearing glasses
You had hid your glasses from Law at first, worried that he would find you less attractive, but when he sees the glasses case in your room, he begs you to put them on.
You two have been relaxing in bed together, and innocent kisses quickly escalate to heavy petting. You're straddling him, rocking your hips against his. You start to think you might cum without even taking your clothes off, but Law's firm grip on your hips stops your movement.
“Can you do something for me?” he asks, leaning over to rummage in the bedside table drawer. When he pulls out your glasses case, you go to protest but he speaks before you can open your mouth
“Babe just put them on for me. I want to see them on,” he says. You haven't noticed yet, but he's already hard thinking about what you'd look like. You groan and take them from his hand.
“I don't get why you want me to put them on. It's not like I'm any hotter with them,” you say as you push them onto your face. Law goes to respond, but after seeing you in glasses he freezes. You begin to feel self-conscious because of Law's lack of response. However, you're shocked when you reach your hand up to take off your glasses, and Law shouts out ‘no’.
You're initially confused about his outburst but Law is quick to recover and pulls you in a kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth against yours and his hands begin to wander your body. When he pulls back for air, he explains himself.
“you look so fucking sexy in those. Please let me fuck you. Can you feel how hard I am?”
Nami - red lipstick
Date night between you and Nami was always special, but this time you've decided to get ready together. The silence had been tension-filled, With both of you keeping an eye on each other as you went about your beauty routine.
You're putting your makeup on, and you've got it down to a science and move freely, stealing glances at the woman sitting next to you. You turn back to add the final touch: a red lipstick. You're so focused on getting the application right that you don't notice Nami is watching you.
As the stick glides over your lips, Nami can't take her eyes off it. The movement is simple, but it has her stomach fluttering. As soon as you finish and turn to her for approval, she pulls you into an open-mouthed kiss. The kiss smudges the lipstick and transfers onto her skin. She sees you with smudged lipstick around your perfect pout and feels her soaked panties clinging to her pussy. She has lipstick smudged on her face too, and it gives her an idea.
“Can you put some more on, baby?” she asks, handing you the lipstick tube. You nod and obey her. She watches intently, running her fingers through your hair as you put on another layer of red lipstick. Once you finish, Nami switches from playing with your hair to gripping it and pulling you towards her bare shoulder.
“wanna leave some other pretty messes on me?” she asks. You don't give a verbal response, instead deciding to attach your mouth to your lover's neck as she lets out a gasp.
Robin - standing up for yourself
Robin's favourite thing to do is observe the always loud, busy environment of the ship and her favourite subject to study is you. She keeps her eye on you as you spend some alone time on the deck, soaking in the sun.
Sanji comes out to talk to you, and your mood plummets. You and Sanji generally got along, but his comments and behaviour had been getting too much to handle recently. You try to let him down nicely, tell him to behave, but when he doesn't - and Nami's not around to smack him - you finally snap.
Robin is intrigued; she's never seen you give anyone this level of attitude. She finds herself excited by the aggressive tone of your voice, which she doesn't get to hear very often. The sharp glare you're giving Sanji as you talk him down is so sexy that Robin almost wishes it was directed at her. Sanji gets himself together and apologises when he realises that he's genuinely upset. You, still angry, just nod and storm off.
Robin follows you into the girls’ room. Nami is busy with Usopp, so the chances of being interrupted are low. When she catches up to you, she checks that you're ok before leaning down to kiss you.
“I like seeing you stand up for yourself. You're so confident. it's so hot”, she says as she pulls you towards her bed. “it makes me want to let you take charge”, she says, and it makes your skin tingle. She's usually more of a service top, but the opportunity to see your aggressive side is too good to pass up. She lies down on the bed, beckoning you to take a seat on her tongue.
“come ride my face.”
Zoro - training together
Zoro reluctantly agreed to train you after you followed him around the Sunny all day, begging him for help. You felt you needed the extra training - and being pinned down by Zoro doesn't sound like a bad use of an evening. He's the only person aboard the ship who doesn't know you like him and you want to use that fact to your advantage sometimes.
You already have the basics of fighting down due to strawhat experience so Zoro suggests going straight to sparring. Zoro is much stronger than you, and he refuses to go easy on someone he has genuine respect for. He knew that he would be pinning you down pretty frequently at first but what he didn't anticipate is how that would make feelings stir inside him that he hadn't felt towards you before.
By the fourth round, you were starting to pick up on Zoro's techniques, and Zoro was feeling relieved about that fact hoping that now he could stop adjusting his hip placement so you wouldn't feel hard cock against you when he pinned you. However, when you do finally get one over on him, you land straddling him with your ass resting just above his bulge.
You freeze above him, and he knows you've felt it. He panics at first, and he accidentally shifts his hips. The friction causes you both to moan slightly. He wants to apologise, but then notices how you're looking at him. You look desperate, like you might cry if he doesn't touch you soon.
“Do you want some help?” you ask, hovering above him. He doesn't know what to say. Are you asking if he needs help getting up or if he needs help with his erection? Zoro breathes out your name and a yes. You grind down against his crotch and bend down to kiss him.
Zoro lifts his hips to help you both and growls against your lips.
“We should go somewhere more private. Anyone could walk in on us here.”
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thank you for reading! any comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated!!! ♡♡
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bodyswap005 · 1 month ago
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"Borrowed Bodies, Reunited Lives".
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Dylan’s Perspective:
I always thought a cruise vacation would be perfect: the sun, the sea, and the chance to disconnect from everything. But when your only travel companions are your parents, who can barely spend a minute together without arguing, the idea loses its charm. So, when my parents announced we’d be spending the holidays sailing to Miami, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and frustration.
They are Ethan and Susan, the perfect representation of a marriage that has lost its way. They argue about everything, from which channel to watch on TV to how to park the car. They never agree, and being in the middle of their endless arguments is a place I’d rather not be. That’s why the idea of spending weeks locked on a ship with them seemed more like a punishment than a break.
If only I could bring Alex and Joshua, my best friends from the gym, things would be different. They’re like my older brothers, always with advice, jokes, and that camaraderie that only forms between those who share long training sessions and complaints about the same exercise machines. Alex is more reserved, but he has a sarcastic sense of humor that always makes me smile, while Joshua is the extrovert of the group, capable of lighting up any room with his energy.
Of course, bringing them along was an impossible dream. My parents would never allow it, and they certainly couldn’t afford it. But sometimes, even the most unlikely things have a strange way of coming true.
One afternoon, as I was walking back from the gym, I saw an elderly woman trying to lift a heavy bag off the sidewalk. I stopped to help her; I didn’t think much of it, it just seemed like the right thing to do. When the woman thanked me, she looked at me with eyes that seemed to pierce through me and said something strange:
—Make a wish, young man. A real one.
I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was some kind of game or joke, but in the end, I said the first thing that came to mind:
—I wish my friends could come with me on the cruise.
The old woman smiled, murmured something I didn’t understand, and walked away. I didn’t dwell on it, although that night I couldn’t help but think about her words.
The day of departure arrived, and as expected, nothing extraordinary happened. Alex and Joshua weren’t there. Everything was the same: my parents arguing, me wishing I wasn’t there. Until, suddenly, things started to get strange.
As the ship set sail, I noticed my parents weren’t just arguing, their voices sounded completely out of place. My dad let out a rude “What the hell am I doing here?”, while my mom muttered a “No way, dude!”. They both looked at me with a mix of confusion and bewilderment.
Then my phone rang. It was Alex. Or at least, that’s what the screen said. I answered, and what I heard on the other end froze me. It was my dad. Or rather, his voice, saying something completely absurd:
—Dylan, it’s me! I’m your dad.
And just like that, my cruise adventure, which already promised to be uncomfortable, took a turn I never could have imagined, even in my worst nightmares.
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Ethan and Susan Perspective:
Ethan woke up startled in a place he didn’t recognize. The room was small, with dull-colored walls, barely lit by a beam of sunlight filtering through the curtains. He brought a hand to his face and felt something strange: his beard was gone.
When he looked down, the shock was even greater. This wasn’t his body. His torso was strong, defined, and his hands, large and youthful, weren’t the ones he remembered.
—What the hell is going on?!—he shouted, jumping up.
On the other side of the room, someone else moved. Susan, or at least what should have been Susan, slowly sat up from a single bed. But instead of her slender figure, it was the body of a muscular young man with messy hair and a bewildered expression.
—What happened to me?—Susan asked, touching her face with hands larger than she expected. Then she looked at the mirror in front of her, and a scream escaped her mouth—It can’t be!
Ethan staggered slightly as he approached, trying to control his movements. He looked at both their reflections and confirmed the impossible: he was in Joshua’s body, one of Dylan’s friends, and Susan was in Alex’s.
—This has to be a nightmare…—Ethan said, running a hand through his short hair.
—This isn’t real!—Susan screamed, touching her arms and chest, feeling the muscles now belonging to her. Her gaze was filled with horror—This can’t be real!
At that moment, Susan’s phone—or rather Alex’s, which was in the pocket of her pants—began to ring. They both looked at each other, uncertain. Ethan took the phone and answered.
—Hello?
On the other end of the line, Dylan answered immediately, his tone filled with panic:
—Dad… it’s me.
Ethan squinted.
—Dylan? What’s going on?
—Dad, mom…—Dylan stammered, trying to explain while listening to Alex (now in Ethan’s body) argue with someone in the background—I think… I think you switched bodies with Alex and Joshua.
Susan, who had been listening from across the room, quickly approached.
—What did you do, Dylan?—she asked with Alex’s deep voice, snatching the phone from Ethan—What did you do?!
—I… I didn’t know this was going to happen—Dylan defended himself, his voice full of guilt—I helped an old woman, and she told me she’d grant me a wish. I just asked for Alex and Joshua to come on the cruise with me.
Ethan huffed, snatching the phone back.
—An old woman?! What kind of joke is this?
—It’s not a joke, dad—Dylan replied—This is real, but… I don’t know how to fix it.
—Of course you don’t!—Susan growled from the back, crossing her arms—We’re stuck in the bodies of two guys we barely know!
—Please, just calm down. We need to think…—Dylan tried to say, but his voice sounded weak, even to himself.
—Calm down?—Susan screamed—We lost our cruise, our lives, everything!
Ethan sighed deeply, trying to remain calm, even though his hands were trembling.
—Listen, Dylan. For now, we’ll look for that old woman, if she even exists. You stay on the cruise and try to keep those two idiots under control.
Dylan swallowed hard.
—Got it.
Ethan hung up and placed the phone on the bed, his expression hardened.
—This can’t be permanent, right?—Susan asked quietly, though she knew no one had the answer.
Ethan didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at his new arms, so strong that it almost seemed like a joke.
—While we figure out how to reverse this… I think we should make the most of this vacation.
Susan glared at him.
—Make the most of it? Ethan, we’re in the bodies of strangers!
—I know, but we can’t just sit around feeling sorry for ourselves—he said, though a nervous smile crossed his face as he flexed his arms—I never had muscles like this…
Susan ran a hand over her face, frustrated.
—Maybe this is a sign—she murmured, more to herself than to him—A lesson for us.
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
—A lesson?
—To solve our problems… as a couple.
Ethan let out a snort but didn’t argue. Though they both knew that the only thing they could agree on was finding that old woman and returning to their lives as quickly as possible.
In the city, Ethan and Susan walked down a narrow alley, following the coordinates Dylan had provided over the phone. However, the place was empty, with no trace of the gypsy old woman who had set everything in motion.
—This can’t be, she doesn’t even exist!—Susan exclaimed, crossing her arms and shooting a reproachful glance at Ethan—This is your fault.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly tired of his wife’s constant accusations.
—My fault? Please! Dylan was the one who made the wish, and we’re the ones stuck in this mess with his little friends.
Susan snorted, turning around to head back to the apartment they were now sharing.
Once they arrived, they both collapsed on the sofa. Susan sighed with frustration, while Ethan stood up to inspect the small living room.
—This is a disaster—Susan said, bringing her hands to her face—I just want my normal life back.
—I wouldn’t complain too much, you know?—Ethan responded with a smile, taking off his shirt in front of the apartment mirror. He admired his defined and sculpted muscles, something he hadn’t seen in years—Look at this! When was the last time I looked like this?
—For the love of God, Ethan! Put your shirt on. This is ridiculous—Susan scolded, though her gaze briefly drifted to her husband, now in Joshua’s body.
—Ridiculous?—Ethan chuckled as he flexed his arms in front of the mirror—This is like turning back time.
Fed up with his attitude, Susan jumped up and, in a burst of frustration, decided to check for herself how she looked now. She stood in front of the mirror and, with some curiosity, slid her hands down the muscular arms of Alex’s body.
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—This… this is weird—Susan admitted quietly, staring at her reflection. Her new body was strong and bulky, something she never imagined experiencing—I’ve never felt like this in my life.
—Weird?—Ethan said, approaching her with a teasing smile—Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying it a little.
Susan rolled her eyes and stepped away from the mirror.
—I don’t care how I look now. What I want is to get my life back, not walk around showing off like you.
Ethan raised his hands in a peace gesture, although he still had a satisfied expression.
—Alright, alright. But, while we find the old woman, we could make the most of it… How about we go out for dinner?
—Dinner?—Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow.
—Yes, of course. But first, I think we should go to the gym. Isn’t that what Alex and Joshua would do? Besides, I’m sure these bodies need exercise to stay like this.
Reluctantly, Susan agreed. After all, there wasn’t much else to do.
At the gym, they faced the demanding routines of Alex and Joshua. Ethan, used to a much more sedentary lifestyle, tried to keep up with the weights, while Susan, clearly annoyed, followed the instructions she found on Alex’s phone.
—This is crazy—Susan murmured, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she watched Ethan drinking an energy shake—How do they do this every day?
—It’s a matter of habit—Ethan replied, smiling as he approached a treadmill.
Suddenly, a young man approached them. He was wearing tight athletic gear and had a relaxed attitude.
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—Alex? Joshua?—Ethan asked with a smile, looking them up and down.
Sergio and Susan exchanged quick glances. They had no idea who he was, but decided to play along.
—Yes, it's us—Ethan replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
The young man nodded, as if he already knew them well.
—Great. Hey, I’m hosting a party tonight. You guys should come. It’ll be at my place, nothing formal, just friends.
—Party?—Susan repeated, surprised.
—Yeah, sure. It’ll be fun—the young man responded before giving them more details and walking away with a smile.
When the young man disappeared from sight, Ethan turned to Susan with enthusiasm.
—This is perfect.
—Perfect?—Susan said, crossing her arms—Are you suggesting we go?
—Of course. When was the last time we went to a party with young people? All we do is attend boring adult gatherings. This could be an opportunity to experience something new.
Susan looked at him incredulously, but deep down, something in his words sparked her curiosity.
—Suppose I agree… But no acting like an idiot, Ethan.
—Deal!—he replied with a triumphant smile.
Meanwhile, Susan couldn’t help but wonder if this experience might be more than just a bad nightmare… Maybe, even, an opportunity to rediscover something lost in their relationship.
The night came, and Ethan and Susan, more nervous than excited, tried to pick the best clothes they could find in Alex and Joshua’s wardrobes. Ethan chose some tight dark jeans and a white shirt that was a little too snug, while Susan, uncomfortable, put on a sleeveless shirt and shorts that left little to the imagination.
—This is ridiculous—Susan said, adjusting her clothes in front of the mirror—Do young people really dress like this?
—Relax—Ethan replied, straightening his shirt collar—We’re doing this to fit in, remember?
With little money in their pockets, they decided to stop for a coffee before heading to the party. Sitting at a small table by the window, the atmosphere was surprisingly calm. For the first time in years, they weren’t arguing.
—This is… strange—Susan commented, stirring her coffee.
—What’s strange?—Ethan asked, looking out the window.
—Us. Here, not fighting. As if… as if we were another couple.
Ethan smiled faintly.
—Maybe this change has something good after all.
Before Susan could respond, Ethan’s phone started ringing. It was Dylan.
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—How’s everything going over there?—Ethan asked as Susan moved closer to listen.
—Fine... I think. Alex and Joshua are keeping it together, although it’s total chaos.—Dylan sighed on the other end of the line—Did you find the old woman?
—No—Susan responded with frustration—We followed the coordinates, but there was no sign of her.
—Well, at least you tried.
Ethan cleared his throat.
—By the way, we’re going to a party tonight.
—What?—Dylan exclaimed—What party? Whose?
—A guy from the gym invited us. We don’t know him, but he seemed insistent.—Ethan paused—Dylan, do you know who he is?
—No. Maybe he’s new in town or at the gym. Be careful.
They hung up shortly after, and Ethan and Susan finished their coffees before heading to the party.
The place was full of energy. Colorful lights blinked while music echoed in every corner. People were laughing, dancing, and chatting in small groups. Ethan and Susan looked at each other nervously before entering, trying to appear relaxed.
—Remember, act like we know them—Ethan whispered.
Inside, they recognized several people from the gym. Probably Alex and Joshua's friends. Susan tried to chat with a few people, but couldn’t fully connect, while Ethan helped himself to a drink at the table.
It was then that the guy who had invited them appeared. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a charismatic smile.
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—Alex, Joshua, I’m glad you came—the young man said, shaking their hands—I’m Elijah, by the way.
—Nice to meet you, Elijah—Susan replied, trying to sound casual.
Elijah smiled in a peculiar way, as if he knew something more.
—So, how are you adjusting to... the new?—he asked with a tone that seemed both innocent and mocking.
Ethan felt something stir inside him. That phrase had been too specific.
—What do you mean?—Ethan asked, feigning disinterest.
Elijah shrugged, his smile barely visible.
—Nothing, just a way of saying. Enjoy the party.
As Elijah walked away, Ethan was left thinking. How could he know something? The idea that he might be connected to the old woman crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. However, something didn’t add up.
He decided to find Susan to talk about it, but at that moment, someone else approached him.
—Hey, Alex, wanna grab a drink?—a young man asked, calling Susan, or rather, Alex’s body.
Susan, unsuspecting, accepted the invitation and walked away, leaving Ethan alone.
Ethan sat at one of the tables, reflecting on what had just happened. He looked around, observing the other guests, but couldn’t get Elijah’s words out of his mind.
—So, how are you adjusting to... the new?
Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed when Susan came back. But what really snapped him out of his reverie was seeing her without a shirt, wearing a swimsuit she had found in the apartment.
—What the hell are you doing?—Sergio asked, alarmed.
Susan shrugged.
—Apparently, this is normal here. Besides, who cares? No one knows who we really are.
Ethan put a hand to his face, stifling a sigh. This night was going to be longer than he expected.
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Susan, still animated by the festive atmosphere and clearly affected by the drinks, approached Ethan with a radiant smile.
—There’s a pool!—she said excitedly—I need a swim, and you do too.
—Susan, I think you've had enough to drink—Ethan responded cautiously, noticing the peculiar gleam in his wife’s eyes.
—Oh, come on! Don’t be boring.—Without waiting for a response, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the pool.
Ethan, surprised by the gesture, felt a strange warmth rise to his face. It was something so simple, but it had been so long since he felt that spontaneous connection with Susan. Was he blushing?
When they reached the pool, the atmosphere was completely different: laughter, softer music, and a group of young people enjoying the water under the colorful lights. Susan, without a second thought, jumped into the water, while Sergio stood at the edge, watching her.
—Ethan, come on!—she shouted, splashing him playfully.
He sighed, finally giving in, and stepped into the water. However, just a few minutes later, Susan moved away again, leaving him alone.
Ethan got out of the pool, drying himself off while looking for Susan in the crowd. That’s when he noticed Elijah, standing near a table, looking at him with a smile that seemed more calculated than friendly.
—Hey, Joshua…—Elijah said, walking toward him—Sorry for what I said earlier, about “adjusting to the new.”
—No problem—Ethan replied, though his tone made it clear he didn’t believe the apology—Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm looking for someone.
But Elijah placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
—Wait, let me explain why I said that.
With a mix of suspicion and curiosity, Ethan decided to follow him. Elijah led him to a room downstairs and closed the door behind them.
—So, what’s this about?—Ethan asked, crossing his arms.
Elijah didn’t answer right away. Instead, he got closer, his eyes locked on Ethan’s.
—You know, Joshua... there’s something about you tonight. Something different.
Before Ethan could react, Elijah surprised him by leaning in to kiss him. Elijah’s lips met Ethan’s, and for a moment, Etnan was frozen. He had never kissed a man, nor had he ever imagined being in this situation. Why wasn’t he pulling away?
Finally, he reacted and pulled back abruptly, his heart pounding.
—What the hell are you doing?—he said, breathless, as he stepped back toward the door.
Elijah showed no remorse, just a mysterious smile.
—Maybe… Joshua isn’t as different as you think.
Without responding, Ethan hurriedly left the room, determined to find Susan.
When he finally found her, what he saw left him stunned. Susan, in Alex’s body, was standing close to a young woman, talking in a way that was far too familiar. The girl was laughing while Susan touched her arm, as if she were flirting.
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Ethan furrowed his brow as he watched them both head upstairs.
—Susan! —he called, rushing after them.
Susan stopped, turning to face him with an annoyed look.
—What now?
—What are you doing? —Ethan demanded, trying to stay calm—. This is not the time to pretend to be someone else.
—Oh, please, Ethan —Susan replied, crossing her arms—. We're stuck in this absurd situation, what does it matter?
—It matters because we need to take care of each other and stick together. The best thing is that we leave now.
Susan glared at him, shaking her head.
—Do you always have to ruin everything? For once in my life, I just want to have fun.
Before Ethan could respond, Susan turned around and left with the girl.
Frustrated and angry, Ethan decided he’d had enough. He returned to the changing room, grabbed his clothes, and left the party without looking back.
Back at the apartment, Ethan locked himself in the small room he was now occupying, throwing himself onto the bed with a sigh of exhaustion. He waited, phone in hand, for a call or message from Susan, but nothing came.
As he tried to calm himself, his mind drifted back to the kiss from Elijah.
Why didn’t I pull away sooner? he thought, bringing a hand to his lips. He’d never kissed a man before, but there was something about that moment… something that unsettled him.
—I’m not gay… —he murmured, as if trying to convince himself.
Still, he couldn’t ignore what he had felt. Was Joshua gay? The idea troubled him, but it also stirred a strange curiosity.
With conflicting thoughts and emotions, he closed his eyes, and eventually, exhaustion overtook him.
The sound of the alarm clock vibrated softly, and Ethan opened his eyes, hoping everything had returned to normal. But it hadn’t. He was still in Joshua’s body. He glanced at the clock: 11:15 a.m.
He got up sluggishly, running his hands over his face and walking toward the bathroom to do his morning routine. As he washed his hands, an unmistakable smell hit his nose: food. Who was cooking?
When he reached the kitchen, he found Susan, still in Alex’s body, preparing what looked like a balanced breakfast: eggs, avocado, oatmeal, and a protein shake.
—Good morning, “J-Machine”! —Susan said with a smile, using a nickname that seemed to belong to Alex for Joshua.
Ethan frowned at the use of the nickname but decided to ignore it.
—Good morning… —he replied as he sat down at the small kitchen table—. Do you feel alright after last night?
Susan shrugged.
—Yeah, nothing a shower and coffee can’t fix.
—Well, I wanted to talk about what happened at the party…
—About what? —Susan asked, not looking at him as she served a plate.
—About what you did —Ethan insisted—. You drank too much, flirted with a girl, and then left with her. What the hell were you thinking?
Susan briefly looked at him, then returned her attention to her phone, typing messages and smiling as though she wasn’t in the middle of a serious conversation.
—Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry. Do you want avocado or double oatmeal? —Susan said indifferently.
—Susan, listen to me! —Ethan exclaimed, tapping the table gently to get her attention.
Finally, she looked up, slightly irritated.
—What? What did I do wrong now?
—Everything! —Ethan replied with frustration—. You’ve been acting like this is all a game. Not just last night, but always. Even when we were in our original bodies.
Susan frowned, setting her phone aside.
—What do you mean?
—I mean you and I have been distant for years —Ethan confessed, his tone more serious—. But last night, while I was trying to take care of you in that body, I felt something… something I haven’t felt in years. That connection we had when we were younger.
Susan looked at him in disbelief, then let out a sarcastic laugh.
—Connection? Or are you confusing things? Are you gay now?
—What? —Ethan asked, surprised by the question.
—Yeah, because all of this sounds weird. You’re telling me you felt “something” for me while I’m in Alex’s body. What’s going on, Ethan? Are you falling in love with your friend son?
Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come immediately.
—It’s not that… —he murmured finally, averting his gaze—. It’s more complicated than that.
—More complicated? —Susan repeated, raising an eyebrow—. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I hope this isn’t about the kiss with Elijah or something like that.
Ethan suddenly stood up, pushing the chair aside.
—You know what? Forget it. I don’t know why I try to talk to you. You always avoid everything, even now that we’re not ourselves.
—Where are you going? —Susan shouted, raising her voice.
—Anywhere where I don’t have to deal with you —Ethan responded, leaving the kitchen and leaving Susan with an expression of confusion and anger.
As he walked toward his room, his thoughts swirled in his mind. Was Susan right? Was he confusing his emotions? Between Elijah’s kiss, Joshua’s body, and his accumulated frustration, nothing seemed to make sense.
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Days passed in which Ethan and Susan barely spoke to each other. The resentment from breakfast still lingered, and each one had opted to focus on their own routines. Susan, in Alex's young and athletic body, had become the life of the gym; always surrounded by people, she generated glances and conversations wherever she went. Meanwhile, Ethan preferred to isolate himself in the apartment, playing video games and reflecting on what had happened at that party.
The image of Elijah continued to haunt his mind, especially the kiss they shared. Ethan felt confused, as if that experience had awakened something in him, something he still couldn't fully understand.
On the fifth day, finally, something changed. Tired of the awkward silence, Susan approached Ethan in the living room while he was playing.
—Can we talk? —she asked, in a softer tone than usual.
Ethan paused the game and looked at her, hesitating for a moment.
—I suppose so.
Susan sat next to him, settling into the couch.
—I want to apologize. Not just for what happened at the party, but… for everything. For how things have been between us, even before this strange exchange.
Ethan watched her, surprised by her sincerity.
—I’ve messed up too. I’ve been too wrapped up in myself… and, well, you saw what happened that night. I shouldn’t have scolded you like that.
—No, you were right —Susan admitted—. I’ve always been the type to avoid things instead of facing them. But after all this… I think it’s time to change, for Dylan. Although now, technically, he’s our best friend.
They both chuckled lightly, easing some of the tension.
—For Dylan —Ethan said, raising his fist.
—For Dylan —Susan repeated, bumping her fist against Ethan's.
For a moment, silence settled again, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was something in the air, a connection they both felt but didn’t know how to express. Susan looked at him with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.
—Can I ask you something? —she said.
—Sure.
—What happened with Elijah?
Ethan sighed and looked away.
—It was strange. I don’t know why he did it… but when he kissed me, I didn’t hate it.
Susan looked at him intently, processing his words.
—You didn’t hate it?
—No. In fact, I think… I liked it.
The atmosphere grew more intimate. Susan placed her hand on Ethan's, and he looked directly at her for the first time in days.
—Maybe all of this is a sign —Susan whispered—. A way to show us that we don’t have to cling to who we were before.
Ethan nodded, and before he could respond, Susan leaned in toward him. It was a soft kiss, filled with a mix of nostalgia, curiosity, and something new that neither of them had ever felt before.
What started as a kiss soon turned into something more. Their bodies, although not their original ones, seemed to fit in a way they had never imagined. They surrendered to the moment, leaving behind the doubts and conflicts that had separated them for so long.
Days later...
Life went on. They hadn’t returned to their original bodies, but it no longer seemed to matter. Ethan and Susan had decided to stop searching for the old woman and, instead, embrace this new opportunity to get to know each other from a completely different perspective.
Dylan, still on the cruise, was completely unaware of what had happened between them, but he would surely find out when he returned. In the meantime, Susan and Ethan found a new routine, learning to live with their new realities and with a relationship that, although unexpected, had given them a new perspective on what it meant to be partners, friends, and companions in this surreal experience that they now called life.
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The end
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grandline-fics · 11 months ago
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hi could i request something for zoro law shanks and mihawk to them harming their s/o from an enemies devil fruit power like they got possessed/controlled and when the sitstuoon was handled they gain consciousness and realize what they’d done? thank you have a lovely day !!! i love your writing 🫶
DESCRIPTION: They hurt you while controlled by a devil fruit
WARNINGS: angst, descriptions of injury, hurt to comfort
CHARACTERS: Zoro, Law, Shanks, Mihawk, Luffy, Ace, Sabo , Crocodile, Kid
WORDS: 2,782
A/N: haven't done some angst in a while so heres some. hopefully you liked what I came up with for this request.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST
———————
ZORO
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The last thing Zoro remembered was his opponent managing to get within touching distance, a stupid move he’d thought but then they dropped their weapon to slam their hand against his chest. It felt like he was drifting asleep, his limbs were becoming heavier and his vision with blurring and darkening. Before all his consciousness slipped away the words of his opponent echoed in his head. “Find your Captain and kill him.” He should have laughed at that ridiculous order, should have told them they’d regret the words from even passing their lips. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. There was only darkness and the absent feeling of his fingers tightening around the hilts of his swords, ready to take up the hunt. 
He didn’t know how long had passed, but slowly the haziness began to lift and Zoro began to process his surroundings. If he felt like he was waking, why didn’t he feel rested? Why did he feel sore and tired. His fingers flexed and he frowned to only feel one sword in his hand. Zoro blinked and looked around in confusion. He no longer stood in the room he had been in and his opponent was nowhere to be seen. Instead he was now standing at the top of a staircase, his gaze drifted to the bottom of the steps and his heart stopped in terror to see your limp form lying there with his sword pierced through your stomach. 
It was all a blur after that, racing down the steps and yelling as loud as he could for Chopper. Zoro remembered crouching near your form with hands shaking for the first time in a long while. What was he to do? What had he done? Was this how he’d lose you? He felt sick. This couldn’t be happening. 
The next thing he knew he was on the ship, a day later and sitting at your bedside wishing for you to open your eyes. He glared at his hands as he replayed everything. Being told that he was like a man possessed, set on finding Luffy to kill him. How you intercepted him and drew his attention long enough to fight while the others tried to find a way to snap him out of whatever power was controlling him. They’d been just a little too late it seemed. It sickened Zoro to see the bandages around your form, knowing the damage that lay beneath them. If it hadn’t been for your own skills he would have certainly killed you.
“Stop…” Zoro’s head snapped up to see you weakly turning your head to stare at him. The pain was evident in your eyes but he was shocked to see you weren’t looking at him with the hate he deserved. Sluggishly you placed your hand on his. “Stop beating yourself up for this…it’s not your fault.”
“The hell it isn’t.” Zoro growled getting to his feet but he couldn’t bring himself to step away from the bed or remove himself from your touch. “Those wounds are my doing. I nearly lost you.”
“But you didn’t. I stopped Sanji from being the one to fight you. It was my decision and I held my own against you. You only won because I didn’t know the stairs were behind me.” 
Zoro knew what you were doing. If he voiced any pity for you and your injuries or blamed himself it would be an insult to you as a fighter. With a long sigh he sat down again and curled his fingers to tightly squeeze your hand. Leaning down he pressed a long kiss against your hand, his good eye slipping closed when your free hand settled on his head. Zoro found it comforting and shocking that even with what you’d endured because of him, there was no hesitancy in your actions. Even with the pain you were in, keeping him calm and reassured came to you so naturally. “I swear I will spend the rest of my life proving that I’m a man worthy of your love.” He vowed vehemently against your skin.
LAW
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As a doctor Law was very good at severing emotion from his work especially when it came to performing surgery that one moment of hesitation could mean certain death. This however was something he didn’t think he’d ever have to do. His hands shook as he tried to force his mind to focus and separate his feelings but it was impossible. It was you, heavily injured and slipping closer and closer to the brink where not even he could save you. He knew what needed to be done but he couldn’t shake the feeling that his hands were tainted, that he shouldn’t have the right to touch you ever again. After all it was his fault you were in this state. 
He’d gotten cocky when he was fighting a rival group of pirates and in that moment one had gotten the better of him and used that weakness to retreat, leaving Law to turn on his crew. He saw those closest to him as frightening enemies and he attacked with the intent to kill which was evident by the injuries he’d given you. Had you been anyone else, if you hadn’t been as strong as you were the attacks would have killed you. Law couldn’t help but shudder at the thought. For now he had to keep every ounce of his mind on you because he would not lose you, he couldn’t. 
When you woke, the pain and heaviness on your body was unlike anything you’d felt before. More importantly you felt fear. You were alive and as you looked around the room you saw that you were alone. You knew how serious your injuries were and if you were still breathing and Law wasn’t with you, had he don’t the unthinkable? Had he used his ultimate ability of his Devil Fruit to grant you life while extinguishing his? Just as you were about to get out of bed and find someone the door opened and relief flooded you to see Law enter. 
Now knowing you didn’t need to worry you sank back against the pillows and let out a small breath only to groan when the action caused pain to flare in your body. Immediately Law was at your bedside and at first you were going to smile but it faltered when you saw the coldness in his eyes as he checked you over. Doing only what was needed of his as your doctor and nothing more. Your eyes zeroed in on the surgical gloves he was wearing. When you opened your mouth to speak, he got in there first, cutting off your attempt. “Save your energy, you’ve only just woken up. Now that your condition is stable, I’ll let one of the others take over for your general care.”
“I refuse their care.” You answered immediately, you might have almost died but that wasn’t going to kill your stubbornness. When Law looked up to glare at you, you smirked in satisfaction to see his ‘heartless and distant’ facade had slipped momentarily. “I only want you or no-one at all.”
“No you don’t.” This time Law’s voice was hollow, the shame of what had happened finally coming to the surface.
“Don’t tell me what I want.” Your tone softened but the force of it was still there. You needed to reassure him that you didn’t hold him accountable for when he was under another’s control. Reaching forward you took his hands into yours and pulled off the gloves, smiling to finally see his tattooed hands exposed. “There that’s better.”
“What I did-” Law began to protest but stopped when you lifted his hands to lightly press a kiss against his knuckles. How could you show such adoration to his tainted hands?
“You saved my life.” Your answer was simple but clear that you would speak no more about it. “Come and lie beside me, you know I can’t sleep without you.” Law gave a small, shaky smile and settled down beside you with the utmost care so that his actions caused you no discomfort whatsoever.
SHANKS
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“You really don’t remember me?” The barmaid pouted playfully at Shanks as she set his drink in front of him. He kept his expression its usual one of friendliness and gave a small shrug to the woman and shook his head. He was an explorer and adventurer, he’d visited countless islands and met many many people. To remember every single person was practically impossible, even for him. “Aw you’re going to make me cry.” The woman was joking of course and for Shanks it was a relief that his lack of memory didn’t cause her any genuine upset. Quickly his gaze flickered across the crowded bar to meet your stare. 
You only grinned in amusement at the attention he was getting. He was a handsome man and it was a daily occurrence that people would throw themselves at him but the outcome was always the same, he’d let them down gently and it was you he’d share his bed with. Still though outside of the long term members, not everyone in the crew knew about the two of you and you were both content with that. “Can I refresh your memory?” Shanks blinked and watched the barmaid slide into the open seat beside him. “I think once I tell you, your life will change completely.” 
Shanks had to admit, that was an interesting opening line and he wasn’t really one to back down from a statement such as this one. So he smiled and gestured for the woman to continue. The barmaid’s eyes lit in excitement and she leant forward, her hand settling against his wrist and the second her hand made contact, Shank’s body became rigid as he peered into the woman’s eyes. “Three years ago you killed the love of my life. Now I’m going to teach you the pain of such a loss. Kill your lover or if you don’t have one then the member of your crew you care for the most will do.” Simultaneously the woman stood and left the table the same time that Shanks’ gaze locked onto your form again. 
When Shanks finally came to his senses, the crew were back on the open seas all of them knowing that their Captain had been under the influence of a Devil Fruit. As the last thing he remembered came to his mind, panic set in and he hurried to find you, fearing that whoever that barmaid truly was had succeeded in making him do the one thing that he’d sworn he’d never do; cause you any sort of harm. Finally he came to a stop in the doorway of the medical room. His heart sank to see you lying in the bed, bandages visible and he dreaded to think what lay beneath them and your clothes. Worst of all was the thick band of bruises around your throat. While he felt sickened at what he saw, he could only find some small sense of comfort that he hadn’t taken his sword with him to the tavern that night otherwise he might have truly killed you. “I’ll leave you two alone.” Hongo told him softly before leaving and closing the door behind him. Alone, Shanks approached your bedside.
“Oh, love what did I do to you?” Shanks sighed tiredly and heavily, flinching when your eyes opened and you looked at him calmly. 
“Not…you.” You managed out, your usual cheerful and soothing voice came out as a painful rasp. Shanks sighed, of course you wouldn’t blame him. It was the woman and her unnerving ability that did this. 
“I was careless though.” Shanks told you, becoming deadly serious which was a rarity. “That’s not going to happen ever again. We’re going to track that woman down and show her and the world what happens when they dare to target the one I love.”
MIHAWK
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You knew Mihawk was a force to be reckoned with, the very first time you’d met your now lover had been an intense fight so you had firsthand experience at how formidable an opponent he could be. However after all those years you’d never expected to be pursued by him so seriously again and it didn’t seem like seducing him or appealing to his better judgement would work in this occasion. You’d both suspected that a few new recruits to Cross Guild were actually spies and had been proven right when you’d confronted them. Together you and Mihawk had taken down most of them but one managed to escape by using their Devil Fruit on Mihawk who was closest. Simply telling him “I’m not your enemy, they are.” While pointing straight at you was enough to make the swordsman set his sights on you. 
While you were strong you knew you had no way of taking him on in this intensely determined state. After all you’d seen this man slice a ship in half from a measurable distance away, you weren’t going to risk getting too close. Your only tactic was to keep your distance, block and defend if possible and hope there was a time limit to this annoyance of an ability. 
As you ran down the street you looked back to see Mihawk was still hot on your heels but it was a relief to see he wasn’t targeting anyone else. The last thing you wanted was for your lover to snap out of this state and realise he’d killed anyone who was an innocent bystander to it all. At least if you got hurt you had enough strength of will to endure it. You felt something change in the air and you turned sharply to see Mihawk reeling back to launch an attack and you recognised that stance all too well. You swore at the position you’d found yourself to be in. To lessen the force you had no choice but to throw an attack of your own and brace yourself.
Mihawk had never felt shame as a swordsman, not until he was finally in control of his body again to see the destruction of the surroundings caused by his attack clashing with yours. When he saw you lying bloodied amongst the debris of what was once a building he felt like never lifting his blade again. Hurrying to your side he felt only some consolation to see your chest slowly rising and hear your faint heartbeat. Taking you carefully into his arms he set for Cross Guild’s base and was for once glad of the amount of money Crocodile put into hiring the best doctors for the group. However the second he had you handed over to the medical team, he retreated to his room. It was because of him you’d been brought close to death, to sit by your bedside seemed like he was making it about him when you were to be the priority. Besides he wasn’t a healer, he would have just gotten in the way. 
When you’d finally woke and asked for him, the task of refusing to visit fell to Buggy as messenger. You rolled your eyes, you’d expected no less from your lover. He might have seemed like a mystery to many, but to you he was an open book. So you decided to sluggishly pulled yourself out of your bed and set about continuing your work. By the time you made it to your room and looking through bounties Mihawk appeared, angered that you were up and out of bed. 
“Are you trying to reopen your wounds?” he snapped. 
“Don’t worry yourself about it.” You replied, forcing your voice to sound light and unbothered but the strain of moving so soon was taking its toll. “A building fell on me, no big deal.” You shrugged and regretted it, letting out a gasp of pain. 
“It very much is a big deal.” Mihawk spoke through gritted teeth as he took a few steps closer, while you continued to look through the papers in front of you. “Please go back to bed.”
“Only if you stop blaming yourself and stay with me when I ask to see you.” Finally you looked up to Mihawk and smirked to see he was finally in touching distance. You knew your actions were drastic but you had to be sometimes to snap him out of his worries. Mihawk let out a long sigh and gently took you into his arms, relishing the simple feeling. He would never risk losing you again, even if he had to destroy all of the Marines to make sure you stayed safe.  
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star-suh · 4 months ago
Text
Sea of Thieves
Bang Chan x Male Reader
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cw: pirate au, top chan, bareback, rough sex, dacryphilia, non-con/dubcon, musk kink, restraints/use of shibari (kinda), degradation, spit, cumming hands free, fingering, blowjob, rimjob, a belly bulge mention.
yn was escaping from the law, he had just become the most wanted after stealing the black pearl from the royal family. with no other way out, he boarded a ship as a stowaway, hoping that it would take him to a place far away from there, but unbeknownst to him, he had made a serious mistake. he didn't know it, but he had boarded the ship of the pirate christopher chan.
chris was known for getting what he wanted, he doesn't care if he has to kill for it, he'll do it, a player who slept with the daughters of the kings of the areas he visited and then stole their precious jewelry and had loot in gold coins. truly a motherfucker.
chris was going downstairs to secure his treasures, then, he heard a sound, he dismissed it at first thinking it was just a rat. “fucking plague” he snarls, while moving one of the big chests a tiny vase fell from the top of one and fell right over yn’s head making him emit a whimper. chris turns his head quickly to the sound “that’s not a fucking rat” he furiously stomps to where he heard the sound. pushing chests and nests aside he found a man covering his mouth, fear plastered on his face.
“the fuck you’re doing here…” he asks. yn shakes in fear, his first reflex was to throw something at the pirate and run. he climbs the stairs and when to the top of the ship just to find out it already sailed, he was now in the middle of the ocean with nowhere to escape, seeing no other way he was already to jump when something hit his head. the world around him became blurry while he fell to the wooden floor. then suddenly everything turns to black.
in a dark room with only the dim light of a candle. the sound of a slap echoed on the room accompanied with a “wake up bitch”. yn opened his eyes, confused, “where am i?”
“in my boat” someone responded. yn tried to follow the voice then his eyes met with a face, a handsome one, but he was angry. “are you one of those spies that fuckers send to steal my treasures?” he stands up, walking towards yn, each step echoed in the room as if a giant was coming near the prisoner. chris tugged on the rope that was preventing yn to move. he was suspended on the roof in a rather uncomfortable position. the rope went all the way to his neck, circling it, then going down his body with lots of knots here and there, on his wrists, torso and feet. unbeknownst to him, the pirate chris, tied him as if he was going to practice shibari.
the ropes on his ass were uncomfortable, they were positioned as if he was wearing a jockstrap, the ropes highlighting his clothed ass.
the interrogation went for almost like an hour, yn’s pleas annoyed chris but his tears were causing something to him, something hardening in his pants. at first chris ignores it thinking it was because he hasn’t slept with someone these past couple of days, maybe it was because he was alone on the ship now, right?.
the pirate tried so hard to avoid that growing burning sensation on his crotch but failed. something about yn’s flushed and helpless face, the tears sparkling due to the dim candle’s light.
“please i just want to get away from these lands” he said, “if- if you help me i can give you something in return”. the last part catching chris’ attention, “what?”. “i have something that if you help me to sell it you can buy a new ship with it.. hell even 10 ships if you want” yn quickly offers “let’s split my treasure in half, just.. just take me away from here”.
chris was dumbfounded, what was that thing that he had that would cost so much but his dick was still aching, it was begging to be freed so he added something more to the proposal, “we have a deal but.. i want something more” he moves around yn then positioning himself behind the prisoner. his fingers doing circling motions on the other’s clothed ass and then grabbing it full with his hand “let me take care of this” as he said that he rips yn’s pants, exposing his back entrance. “what the fuck” yn yells but his protests are quickly muffled by chris’ fat manly dick swinging in front of his face. the pirate undoes a knot so yn’s head hangs lower and he can take all of his dick on his mouth “put that mouth to better use. whore” chris put all his shaft inside it at once, making yn gag. he starts slowly then increased the speed. everytime he pulls down to go back and slam his junk on that wet cavity lots of saliva dripped to the floor and yn’s face. “watching you cry made something to me, so you should take full responsibility for it. be a good manwhore and swallow it all”.
“open wide” he keeps demanding, his balls slapping against yn’s face. yn obeyed and chris forced him to deepthroat him.”you’re skilled at this huh?. it makes me wonder how many dicks have you sucked before”. the pirate keeps slamming himself against the restrained man as if he was some kind of toy made just for his pleasures.
while he waits to cum on yn’s mouth he starts to spit and finger his exposed hole. his trust were sloppy now, signaling he was about to cum, in one of the his cock slipped out of yn’s mouth. the stowaway asks “what are you doing to my ass?” he was about to keep protesting but chris’ cock enters again on his mouth, he shushed him, “keep on sucking me bitch boy. i’m just preparing you for later”.
chris spat, fingered, slapped and kiss the other’s ass, it looks as if he was making out with his already puckered hole, “look how he’s winking at me. he wants me so bad” chris joked about yn clenching onto nothing but soon he would have the other’s tongue inside to clench on it.
yn wet gagging sounds filled the room, he was trying to swallow all the sperm the pirate shot inside his throat, it was a lot that he choked on it, coughing out some of the liquid. “i almost die, you bastard” once again yn’s complaints were ignored because chris was only focused on sucking his hole ‘this motherfucker is so good with his tongue’ yn thought, the anger on his face being just a facade to hide the pleasure he was receiving.
chris rearranged the rope and the knots leaving yn still suspended on air but this time his legs are wide open so the pirate can get an easy acces to his hole “time for real fun” he jokes slapping his tip on the wet hole. “don't fucking put that thing on me.. it's too big” he cried, “don't worry bitch boy” the pirate reassured in a mocking tone that didn't convince yn at all.
“let me use that used hole” he muttered, ramming all his shaft inside at once. tears formed on yn's eyes accompanied with a guttural moan “what's up bitch boy, you can’t handle me” he laughs at how pathetic yn was looking but his hole feels good so he's not gonna complain.
he put his calloused hand on yn's mouth “you're crying it's getting on my nerves” using it as a way to pound yn harder, every inch of it making its way on yn's insides. once in a while he stops thrusting to spit on his shaft as if it was a lube. the warm sensation of the spit making yn ‘feel funny’ causing that he clenches even more.
minutes later yn was free, except by his hands that were tied behind his back. he'a riding the pirate who got tired of doing all the work, “come on, move faster” he demanded slapping his hand against yn's cheeks. “hngh” he squirmed, still feeling the hand imprint burning in his ass “yes sir” he accelerated his pace. gushy sounds echoed in the room, accompanied by the crashing waves outside the ship and some moon light.
chris locked his arm around yn's neck and thrusted like a beast, forming a bulge in yn's stomach “wait. ahhh~” and as if it was a fountain yn's dick spurted cum everywhere, white drops falling on his body, the floor and even some on the walls.
“hahaha” chris laughs, amused of what he just saw “look at you cumming just by your ass. and you swear you're not a bitch”.
yn legs tremble, the tiredness and overstimulaton mix hitting him. “don't sleep on me i still have to fill you up” the pirate cooed, moving his hips slowly in a sensual manner. knowing that he could stay the rest of the night being drilled by that fat dick and seeing that he's falling asleep he decide to made him cum faster.
he grabbed chris’ neck getting his face closer towards him and kissed him, tongues battling to control each other's. meanwhile he moves his hips faster meeting chris’ thrusts that never slowed their pace, “what's gotten into yo-” he was cut by yn sloppy kisses. he was determined to make that bastard cum no matter what.
few thrusts later the pirate cums, yn’s walls sucking the milk out of it like a milking machine, “holy fuckkkk” chris slurred “you know how to work with that hole of yours”. he didn't pull out until the last drop was emptied on yn, his face resting against the stowaway's back, “shit that was good” a smile creeping on the pirate's face while yn just nodded tiredly…
yn wakes up in a bed, with new clothes, he climbs the stairs to look for the pirate, “hey bitchboy you're awake” he waved “yeah but my ass is sore. and stop calling me like that” yn replied, brows furrowed showing how annoyed he was. “tell me about the treasure” he asked with a serious tone and yn told him about the black pearl and how he got it. they planned to stay with it but knowing how dangerous it will be when everyone finds out they have it they decided to sell it and split the coins in two.
“i'm gonna reunite with my crew, see you later” chris said and turn his heels to go back to his ship, “why did you say see you later?” yn asked, being quickly responded by chris “i have a feeling that we will meet soon again” he says while doing some vulgar signs with his hands and sticking his tongue out, “you're disgusting” yn yells and chris just laughs at him showing the middle finger.
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