#and now it's like “tell your story this one specific way or fucking die”

[fruity-fruition]

Assigning Disney songs and small analysis on why to Wondershow pairings!!

(boycott Disney literally please never stop. Pirate EVERYTHING they have FUCK Disney they're literally the worst EVILL evil corporation it's not even funny. but their stories and songs are iconic unfortunately)

Ruikasa: I See The Light (Tangled)

It's a song about discovering what it means to dream, and realizing how much your world has changed so drastically after the right person enters your life.

"All these years, chasing down a daydream. All those days, living in a blur. All that time, never truly seeing things the way they were"

TELL ME. TELL ME THAT ISN'T TSUKASA PRE-WXS. Him NOT knowing what he's doing, striving for a blurry dream he's stumbling to achieve. BEFORE MEETING WXS, in this specific case, Rui.

"All at once, everything looks different, now that I see you"

How Rui's entire view of friendship and life in general changed the moment Tsukasa officially invites and begs him back into the group. Hear me OUT.

Nenekasa: A Whole New World (Aladdin)

A song of one person showing and exposing the other to a new and exciting world, one filled with wonder.

Tsukasa pulled Nene out of her shell, and basically challenged her. While all her friends are her stepping stone, it's Tsukasa that pushed her into the world of stardom. A world she so desperately wants to achieve.

He's a competition to her, a friend, and also a motivation to keep getting better. She overcomes a lot of her fears with her rivalry of sorts with him, wanting to be an equal and improve just as much. She's brought to the spotlight, indirectly because of him. A whole new world she's just introduced to.

"A dazzling place I never knew. But when I'm way up here, it's crystal clear, that now I'm in a whole new world with you"

THE TWO STARS OF WONDERSHOW. IN THE SKIES TOGETHER.

Emurui: Love is an open door (Frozen)

Ok, I know this is TECHNICALLY a manipulative and villain song, BUT NOT TO ME IN THIS CONTEXT. Just two, absolutely silly doofuses goofing around and being equally stupid.

I don't have much logical explanation for this except for silly and also it matches their vibes SOO WELL. With Emu thinking nearly as insanely as Rui, and both of them being whimsical in nature. It makes the

"I mean it's crazy"

"What?"

"We finish each other's s-"

"sandwiches!!"

"That's what I was gonna say!"

More so their brainwave being THAT goofy and in line with each other rather than a manipulative tactic the song was trying to do.

"I never met someone who thinks so much like me!"

YEAHHHHHH

I don't have the energy to keep analysing right now but I'll drop the other two and explain later if I don't forget and die.

Ruinene: Something There (Beauty and the Beast)

Emukasa: I DONT KNOW I DESPERATELY TRIED IF ANYONE HAS ANY IDEAS SHARE I LOVE EMUKASA BUT I WAS DYING.

Emunene: I won't say I'm in Love (Hercules) ORR THE LESBIAN ANTHEM Kiss The Girl (The Little Mermaid)

#pjsk #project sekai #tsukasa tenma #rui kamishiro #nene kusanagi #emu ootori #emu otori #tenma tsukasa #kamishiro rui #kusanagi nene #ootori emu #otori emu #wxs #wondershow #wandasho #polyshow #polysho #wonderland x showtime #wonderlands x showtime #ruikasa #emunene #ruinene #nenekasa #emukasa #emurui

[lastoneout]

People don't like to admit it bcs cringe or w/e but Homestuck really did revolutionize the webcomic as a storytelling medium and I am endlessly frustrated that before webcomic artists could really stretch our legs fucking webtoonz swooped in, set a new, more restrictive standard, and then monetized and monopolized the ever living fuck out of the concept of The Webcomic until it drove away anyone who couldn't be a professional quality manga artist for free, and now the only webcomics that actually feel like spiritual successors to Homestuck are so obscure they're basically cult classics that you have to beg people to read.

Like it's just so wild to be in high school and see Homestuck be like "we're using like fifteen different artistic mediums to tell this story bcs we can" and be really fucking inspired by that, only to grow up and see basically every webcomic ever have to conform to One Single Standard or fucking perish.

#I decided I wanted to be a comic artist bcs homestuck inspired me #in the sense that it was like “fuck it tell your story however you want to” #and now it's like “tell your story this one specific way or fucking die” #wtf

[ihavethedreamies]

Easy | Felix | Easy to Expert (1)

Lee Yongbok (Felix - Stray Kιds)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5k

Pairing: Felix x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Biting, One Singular Spank, He Gets a Bit Rough, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Don't do what they do.)

Summary: In which you can't normally get off and Felix doesn't like this one bit.

Author's Note: Imagine trying to write something like this with a straight face because you are at your uncle's house in the living room with everyone else there and you can't go anywhere else...

Also your friend's name is Yuna here and she's not a reference to any idol or anything, this was just the name that came to mind.

-> Part 2 <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"He had the stamina of a work horse; I thought I was going to die."

"Really?" You weren't convinced.

"No, seriously. I had never came that many times in one session." Your friend shook her head and you blinked. You watched her take a swig of beer and you took another bite of chicken.

"You started without us?" Someone whined behind you, and you turned to see Jisung and Minho coming up to your table. The younger man pouted as he sat down in the empty chair next to you while Minho sat on his other side.

"You guys are half an hour late." Yuna sneered at them, waving a drumstick aggressively.

"Where's everyone else?" you asked.

"Seungmin can't make it, Jeongin is sick. Chan and Changbin are on their way from the studio. Felix and Hyunjin just left campus after dance practice." Minho listed off, waving his hand up to get the auntie's attention to get beer.

"Is Jinnie going to shower first? Poor thing looks like he fell in a pond after dance practice." Yuna bounced a bit as she talked since the waitress brought over the order of Tteokbokki you had ordered.

"That's why they're late." Jisung spoke around a mouthful.

"Anyway, he ended up breaking up with me because I apparently wasn't enough for his libido." Yuna continued her story despite the fact two of the boys had arrived and Chan and Changbin were arriving.

"Woah, what?" Chan laughed setting his bag down next to her and the other man sat across from Minho.

"Is this the same guy who said he wished he had two dicks to fuck twice as much?" Changbin asked as you watched his shirt tighten over his chest as he took his jacket off. Everything he wore was so tight…You were taken out of your zone-out when he scoffed, "My eyes are up here (Y/N)." Everyone laughed at you and your face tingled a bit, you took a sip of beer not meeting his eyes.

"Wait, what?" Chan asked again and Yuna rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. I think he was possessed by a sex demon or something, geez."

"Who are we talking about?" The oldest man asked. Yuna then recapped everything she had told you to Chan who stared blankly at her the whole time.

"Okay, way more than I ever needed to know." He shook his head and grabbed his chopsticks.

"You don't even know the half of it." Changbin huffed and the other girl gasped dramatically.

"You asked me to tell you most of it!"

"Not everything! I really didn't care about who you did everything with first, that was a long ass list."

"A list of asses?" Minho seemed to tune in at a very specific time.

"Do I want to know?" A new voice groaned as Hyunjin sat at the end of the table. Felix came around to the other end near you and took a seat.

"Yuna is sharing WAY too much again." Jisung's eyes got big to emphasize his point.

"Well, this started because (Y/N)-"

"NO!" You almost leaped across the table to shut her up. That unfortunately made the boys all the more curious and it was getting steadily louder as they urged you to share. If not but to spare the rest of the patrons and workers, you finally relented.

"I just told her that I didn't see too much point in rushing into sex in a relationship because I don't get much out of it." You didn't look at anyone, just cast a glare at Yuna, then back at your beer bottle.

"Well, you need to find someone else then." Minho told you matter-of-factly.

"It doesn’t matter, and it's not like partners haven't tried…I just can't…I-I can't finish…" You mumbled the last part, and it went deathly silent. You could feel the eyes on you but for some reason, the ones to your left were burning. Glancing up to meet Felix's stare, you're startled by his expression. He looked…intense. You shifted under his gaze. He knew you liked him, and you knew he liked you, but not much had come of it. You two kissed briefly a few weeks ago but it was interrupted, and it hadn’t happened since.

"Wait, seriously? Have you ever?" Chan asked, he had stopped eating. This was serious to him.

"Yeah, but it took forever. I had to do it myself and it wasn't easy." You shrugged. Because of this fact you hadn't had very many sexual encounters or partners. It’s just frustrating when nothing ever came of it.

"So that's when I told her that my last boyfriend might be able to do it since he got me off like six times at once." Yuna explained as she shoved more food in her mouth.

"Did you ex ever do it?" Jisung asked and you nodded.

"Once." That wasn't why you had broken up; he had moved away for work and long distance didn't work too well so you drifted apart.

"Have I ever told you guys about my college roommate's girlfriend?" Hyunjin cut in and quickly everyone was diverted over to his story of the fact that this girl was not loyal by any means. And neither was her boyfriend. Unfortunately for Hyunjin, he was both of their type and he ended up having to switch rooms. The night continued and as more food was eaten, more alcohol was consumed. The rowdiness became too much, and you were more or less kicked out. Yuna was drunk and Changbin promised to get her home in one piece, so he left with her on his back. Chan, Jisung, and Hyunjin followed suit since they all were going to the same place, and you were left with Minho and Felix.

"I'll walk her home. Go check on Jeongin, he might be asleep already but he's not texting back." Felix told the older man who nodded and said goodbye so you two were left alone. You had only one beer that night and Felix didn't even finish his, so you were not even tipsy.

"I-I can get home okay, I didn't drink much." You tried to wave him off.

"It’s okay. Just because you're sober doesn't mean I should let you go alone." He smiled softly and you internally gushed over how pretty he was.

"Thanks." Beginning to head in the opposite direction of everyone else, you two walked in silence for most of the time, but it was companionable. In your head you just kept replaying the small kiss from a few weeks before, not really sure why you were looping on it. When you got to your building, you expected him to leave you at the door, but he opened the door for you and led you toward the elevator.

"D-Do you want to come in? I have some cheesecake left that I can't finish on my own…" You couldn't meet his gaze as you waited for the elevator.

"Sure, thanks." His deep voice was so warming, and you wondered what it would sound like whispering in your ear. You shook your head to clear the thought and got in the lift to get to your floor. Keying in your pin code, the door chimed, and you let him into your apartment. You lived alone and so your place had some clutter about. You hung your coat and bag up, changed to slippers, then moved to clear the papers and pens off the couch. After moving the stuff into a more organized pile on the coffee table, you stood and turned to go to the kitchen, but instead ran into Felix's chest. He was wearing a grey turtleneck that was way tighter than you though it would be on him. His sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows and his hand moved to steady you when you stumbled in surprise at his proximity. Compared to other men, he wasn't very tall, but he was still quite a bit taller than you. When the hands that steadied you moved from your arms to your waist, you were pulled to him even closer. Your breath hitched and your hands instinctually gripped the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders. When your eyes met, he leaned in and as his lips hovered over yours, his deep voice rumbled through you.

"Can I?"

"Y-yes." Your hands moved to rest closer to his neck and he kissed you. This one was different than before. Last time was chaste and soft, but this was growing heated fast. Felix tilted his head more and licked at your bottom lip prompting you to open your mouth. You moaned softly as his tongue invaded your mouth and when he groaned back it was like thunder shook you. Reluctantly, you let him pull away so you both could take a breather.

"Was what you said true? You really can't cum?"

"M-most of the time." It was embarrassing to talk about it in front of everyone, but for some reason it seemed like Felix took it personally.

"Hm. If you let me, I might be able to help." He leaned down some to say this right into your ear, then he sucked on your ear lobe. You shuddered and tilted your head to let him get better access to your neck. He laid searing kisses along your skin, and you swallowed hard.

"O-okay." You were a bit reluctant since it hadn't worked well before. At the same time, he was turning you on way faster than anyone or anything else before. You were not blind, or deaf, he was incredibly attractive, and you would be stupid to say no. Felix's lips pulled into a smile against your throat and he sucked on that spot hard, his teeth digging in slightly. You moaned louder than you meant to, and he could feel your throat vibrate as you did. Not realizing he could pull you closer, when he did you felt him hard against your stomach. His lips moved from your neck, which now had at least three bruises on it, back to your mouth and he dominated the kiss, taking complete control. Finally, to gain more oxygen, he pulled away from you and your head was swimming. He could sense that you were dazed, so he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, carrying you to your room. Setting you down at the end of your bed, he kneeled before you, the look on his face shocked you. You were expecting a fire there, lust, but it was so warm and soft, and you weren't sure how to react.

"I'm doing this because I like you so much. I hate that no one's made you feel good like you deserve. But at the same time…" The hand on your waist dug into your flesh and his expression sharpened, "I want to be able to say I'm the only one that can say he did. Easy." His confession made your walls clench around nothing.

"Will you let me?" Felix asked.

"Of…of course. I like you too-" He cut you off with another devouring kiss and his hands wandered under your sweater and helped you take it off. If you had known this was going to happen, you wouldn't have worn such a plain set of underwear. As the make-out session continued he also removed your socks and pants and he finally pulled back to take his own clothes off. You watched with rapt attention as his turtleneck came off, and…damn. Felix was way more ripped than you thought he would be. Not quite to the level of Chan or Changbin…You were even more enthralled as he took his belt off and undid his jeans to let them fall. His hard cock was straining against the black fabric of his tight briefs, but he left them on as he kneeled before you again. He stood as high as he could on his knees, making him eye level with you.

"Can I?" He reached around your back, and you nodded so he could unhook your plain nude bra. As he took it off, he gently bumped his forehead against yours and flashed a smile.

"You're so pretty." He cooed and you huffed, looking away in embarrassment.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black." You mumbled and he giggled. Felix laid a soft kiss on your lips then began to move down. To your neck, collarbone, sternum, then down your right breast where he latched his mouth around your nipple. You exhaled and let him do what he wanted. He didn't garner much of a reaction, but it felt better than it normally did. He hummed in thought and then he laved his tongue around the peak of your breast, then his teeth slightly dug in, and you gasped. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smile, and he sucked hard on your nipple again and your skin tingled. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and he pulled away with a pop and moved to do the same to the other side. Your breathing was getting a bit heavier and as he pulled away from your chest, he pressed his hand on your sternum, telling you to lay back. You did so and as you did; he straight up bit your left breast on the swell of the flesh. This pulled a surprised moan from you, and he smirked, pulling back.

"You left a mark!" You scoffed and he laughed, "You're going to end up with a lot more, love." You gaped at him and before you could answer, his mouth was back on you, kissing over your ribs. You sighed and he moved down to your belly button, then licked a path up to under your breasts. His actions heated your skin, and he moved back down to the waistband of your panties.

"You okay with this?" His fingers had slipped under the fabric to run along your butt, his face close to your covered pussy. He could smell your arousal already and couldn't wait to bury his tongue inside you.

"Yes. How about I tell you if I'm not and you just do whatever you want." You finally told him. You loved that he asked and made sure, but you just wanted him to keep going.

"Whatever I want?" He whispered to himself, and his intense gaze met yours.

"Are you sure, love?"

"Y-yes." You felt like a small furry creature about to be devoured by a tiger.

"Hm." He smirked and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, dragging you to the end of the bed. Felix pressed his face into your covered cunt and licked at your clit through the fabric. You twitched a bit, but not enough for his liking. He clicked his tongue and instead of pulling your panties off, he tore them off. The side hem was fraying a bit and it allowed him to rip the fabric and he tossed the remnant away. You would have complained if it was a nicer pair. The display of strength was incredibly attractive. Once again, Felix's hands gripped your ass, hauling you closer and immediately shoved his tongue into your cunt. You exhaled harshly, laying back. It was if he was a man lost in the desert and you an oasis. He was practically drinking from you, devouring you. His nose bumped your clit as his tongue reached as deep as he could get it. You grunted slightly, surprised at how good it felt. He noticed that every time the tip of his nose hit your button that you flinched very slightly. Removing his face from between your legs for a moment, he took his thumbs and spread you open, and you squealed. It was embarrassing, but you didn't say anything, so he kept going, smirking as you covered your face. Licking another stripe from your core to your clit, he sealed his lips around the little bud and sucked as hard as he could. Your hips jumped slightly, and your breathing picked up, but it wasn't enough yet. Furrowing his brow, he pulled back again, tipping his head. If he wasn't doing what he was it would have been rather cute. He had one more trick up his sleeve. He took his thumb once again and rubbed a circle over your clit to see how you reacted. Glancing up he pushed harder against it to fully expose it, then he leaned forward to suck again. It was a stronger feeling than before and it made your hips jump again but then he did something unexpected, he placed your clit between his teeth and bit down a bit.

"Fuck!" You twitched hard, he wrapped his arm around your hips to hold them down, then he sucked again and gave another little nibble.

"F-Felix-" You gasped, and you were getting close. It was a different feeling than even the few times before. As he abused your poor little clit, he quickly inserted two fingers in your rapidly wetting cunt. This made you gasp again, and he could feel how tight you would be, but he was figuring out you needed a little bit of pain. Once more, he nibbled down, and at the same time he crooked his fingers up hard against your sweet spot and you fell apart. You saw white, you had never felt anything to that extent before. You had slammed your hand over your mouth, but he could still hear you nearly scream out a moan and he smiled cockily; your pussy walls clenched hard around his fingers and cum spurted out of your cunt. He held your hips down, feeling the muscles twitch and spasm. It seemed like it lasted forever and when you finally came down, you were panting hard. He kneeled straighter, pulling his fingers out of you, and noted that you had draped your arm over your eyes, and he couldn't tell if there were tears or sweat flowing down your cheeks. As he stood, Felix licked his fingers clean, and he kneeled over you some and pried your arm from your face. You looked dazed, and he still couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears.

"You did so good, love." He stroked the hairs back that were stuck to your forehead.

"How the actual fuck did you do that?" You gaped and he guffawed.

"It seems you like it to hurt a bit?"

"Hurt? It didn’t?" You seemed genuinely confused. Were you really that insensitive? With how tight your cunt was around his fingers he thought for sure it would have stung a bit. Most of the time getting bit somewhere that tender would hurt some even if it felt good.

"Interesting…" He thought for a second then looked back down at you.

"Do you wanna keep going?" Felix brushed a drop of the moisture from your cheek and you glanced at him.

"Why wouldn't I?" He huffed at that.

"You look like you just ran a marathon."

"Felix, if you can make me come, I'm going to let you do it as many times as possible." You deadpanned and his shocked expression softened, and he hummed. He bent over and kissed your forehead gently. His hand grabbed yours and he brought your knuckles to his lips so he could press another kiss there.

"(Y/N), I just want you to know, that I really like you, and I want to just hold you and love you all night." He admitted and your heart began to thud.

"But I think what you need is to be fucked senseless." His voice deepened even further, and his gaze sharpened. Your heart raced even more, and it seemed he was waiting for permission.

"Oh, god, please." You said quickly and he chuckled.

"Scoot up." He kissed your hand once more then let go and he got off the bed, letting you do as he requested. He went and turned your lamp on and shut the big overhead light off. He came over as you pulled your nightstand drawer open to make sure you did have condoms and that they weren't expired.

"What's this?" He had stopped next to you as you grabbed the box and his hand reached in a grabbed something else.

"Oh, uh-" Before you could answer he opened the box. He knew what it was before he asked. Inside there was a series of sex toys and it seemed none of them could do the trick. Bullet vibrator, one looked like a rose with suction, there was a rabbit vibrator, but the one that shocked him the most was the butt plug. It vibrated too and the plastic still hadn't been taken off of the box.

"Woah." He teased, pulling it out and you groaned.

"Haven't tried it?"

"I…Nothing else worked so I figured it was worth a try but I got nervous…"

"Hmm." He was thinking something, and you weren't sure you liked the look on his face.

"Another time." He shook his head and dropped it back in the box and put it in the drawer again and took the condom box from you.

"Hm." He hummed again and you shot him a look.

"What?"

"Have you tried anything with like ribbing or whatever?"

"Yes…didn't do jack. Even did the ones with like warming lube and stuff."

"…I have an idea but only if you're okay with it?"

"What?"

"I know it’s good to be double sure, but you're on the pill, yeah?"

"Yes."

"It seems you have trouble feeling stuff there, you would probably feel more without this." He rattled the box. He had a point, the only reason you used both was for security.

"We can get the morning after thing if you want-"

"That's fine." He seemed to know what he was doing, and you weren't overly worried about it.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Felix." You assured and he nodded, dropping the box back into the drawer, "They're the wrong size anyway." He muttered that to himself, but you caught it. Closing the drawer, he crawled back onto the bed and kneeled at your feet, then cast you a look. You nodded and he pulled your knees apart and for some reason it was still embarrassing even though his tongue had literally been inside you. You were neither a virgin nor a prude, but for some reason, since it was Felix, it felt different.

"Relax, love." He smiled, pressing his lips to yours again and his tongue slipped into your mouth. You whined when he pulled back and he chuckled, then maneuvered and removed his underwear and threw them somewhere.

"Fuck." You whined and you wanted him in your mouth.

"This is about you, love, not me." He pinched your nose, able to tell what you were thinking from the expression on your face.

"Fine." You pouted and his fingers went back to your cunt and gathered the wetness there and you watched as he stroked himself to get ready. What the fuck was he fed that despite his small size his cock was that big? Whatever it was also probably made his voice as deep as it was as well.

"Ready? I'm going to be rough with you." He warned, his sharp gaze rehardened, the softness still there underneath.

"Please." You let him just grab you, he spread your legs open wide, a slight burn in your hamstrings. There was very little time between the head of his cock meeting your cunt and him burying all the way to the hilt. It took your breath away and he grunted at how tight your hot core felt around him. He had honestly never had sex without a condom before either. After being inside your wet heat with no barrier, he didn't think he could ever do anything but, especially since he planned on being with you longer than he consciously realized. You were shivering at the sensation, his hot flesh searing through you, spreading you open so much so instantly. It stung some but it felt better than any other time and you weren't sure if it was because he was fucking you raw or that he was that big. You didn't even want to know how much bigger Chan supposedly was. He contemplated letting you get used to him, but Felix was losing control fast, and it seemed like you liked it rough. His hands on your thighs spreading them open gripped the flesh, easily swinging your legs up so he folded you in half, your knees at your ears.

"Hold on, love." Using his dancing skills, he snapped his hips as hard as he could, and your next orgasm hit you. If you whited out before, you practically blacked out that time. It was like water rushed over your head, your rapid pulse thudding in your ears, your blood audibly racing. He grunted and you could barely hear it through the ringing in your ears and he dug his fingers hard into the flesh of your thighs to hold back his own orgasm. Your walls were hugging his cock so tight, and you were practically gushing around him. He hoped that he had pulled some kind of seal off of you, and that he could get you to fall apart over and over and over. He wanted to be the one that could say he fucked you stupid and that no one could ever finish you simply because they weren't him. His ego shot through the roof, and he wanted to ruin you. When he first thought of going through with this, the plan was to show you how much he loved you, what you meant to him. But he had no idea what you liked and what would finally get you off. If you needed rough, he would do it. Looping his thoughts to keep distracted from the vice of your cunt, he finally felt you relax, and you nearly went boneless, your legs in his grip losing all strength. You were heaving for air again, not sure which way was up or down, how old you were, or even your own name. All you could think of was Felix.

"No!" You yiped as he pulled out, but he rolled you over onto your stomach, hauled your hips up, your face buried in the pillow and he buried his cock back into your needy pussy, making you white knuckled the sheets. He began a truly relentless pace, and it was the best thing anyone had ever done to you.

"You like my cock, love?"

"Fuck, yes!" You managed to get out, each thrust made you silently scream, forming words became nearly impossible. Maybe the fact that he got you to orgasm allowed you to be more sensitive; then maybe because you had tried for so hard for so long with no success, your body could finally let go. Felix had the key to not only your heart, it seemed, but your cunt as well.

Leaning forward, he gripped the frame of your bed for leverage and kept his thrusts just as hard but extremely shallow. The fat head of his cock beat against your back walls so hard that you were sure they would forever be molded to only him. You felt another climax rising and your own hands scrambled to grip the wooden rods of your bed frame as well.

"F-Felix!" You managed to get out and you watched one of his hands leave the frame above you, and he smacked your right ass cheek and upper thigh hard, and you fell over the edge again. This time, he couldn't hold back either, and he fucked as deep into you as he could and filled your womb with his cum. That sensation made your climax flare to max again even though it had begun to dissipate, and your fluttering canal helped him ride out his own orgasm. You thanked the Lord birth control existed because you never wanted him to cum anywhere but inside after that. As you both caught your breath, he slowly pulled out of you and the adrenaline left you and now you were sore. Your clit, your pussy, where he had smacked you, everything. You didn't think you would be able to walk tomorrow. When he had fully withdrew, your hips slumped down and you flopped flat onto the bed, not able to move.

"Hold on, love." He leaned over you and kissed your hot cheek, covered in tears from the intensity of what he just reeked on you. You felt him wipe your used cunt off with a towel and you whined when he moved you to pull the blanket out from under you. He made a note to remove the comforter before fucking you on the bed again, because he sure was planning on doing it again.

"You're fine, pretty girl." He chuckled and crawled into bed with you. He shut the lamp off and the room was cast in shadow before your eyes got used to the dull light of the streetlights behind the curtain. Getting settled, he saw you had laid on your side already, the only way you could fall asleep. Smiling he curled around you, wiggling his arm under your head and wrapped his other around your middle. He rested his hand on your tummy, holding you close. He had to be careful, your cute little butt pressed against his now-covered groin was enough on its own to get him riled back up. The arm under your head bent so his hand could rest on your forehead, and he kissed the back of your head.

"Goodnight, love." Felix hugged you as close as possible, loving being your big spoon.

"I won’t be able to walk tomorrow." You mumbled and buried his nose in your hair and smiled smugly.

"If you can I won’t have done my job right."

"Thank you, 'Lix."

"Of course, sweet." Another kiss to your head.

"Go to sleep. I'll take care of you tomorrow. And every day after that you'll have me." His deep but quiet voice rumbled next to your ear, and you linked your fingers with his on the hand on your stomach.

"I'll have you always, Felix."

"Good, because you're stuck with me now."

-> Part 2 <-

Masterlist

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #stray kids #skz #stray kids felix #skz felix #skz fluff #skz smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #felix smut #felix fluff #lee yongbok #lee felix #felix lee #x reader #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #felix x reader

[weebsinstash]

Kinda obsessed with the idea of a reader pregnant with Lucifer's kid and just he's really into it and wants to get married while the readers there being like damn I just wanted the bragging rights of saying I fucked the king of hell and now I have to be married to him !?!

Reader: ugh oh my god that dick was so fucking good, thanks Lucifer

Lucifer, currently painting sigils with his own blood on your tummy: oh my god, no, I know, right, it was amazing, I had an amazing time

Reader: hey uhhhhhhh by the way, what are you

Lucifer, taking a break from speaking ancient Latin incantations: oh hey, no don't worry about it it's totally cool I'm just, doing a thing here

Reader watching the very foundation of Hell shake around them like an earthquake as all the candles in the room burn higher and the unseen spirits of the damned sing comgratulatory praises for their dark lord: you know this kiiiiiiiiinda feels like you miiiiiight be doing something kinda sinister and magic-y right now

Lucifer, watching his symbol appear on your belly: whaaaaaaaaat, no, that's crazy! It's just a little.... surprise! Nothing to worry about! So hey also completely unrelated but I kind of need to splash some of this goat's blood on you--

I feel like sleeping or even FLIRTING with Lucifer is the ultimate case of fuck around and find out because at the very least you have an all powerful clingy depressed obsessive boyfriend in THE DEVIL and at his very worst you have you know THE DEVIL, treating you as his equal half, wanting all to bow before you, worship you, erecting churches with stained glass telling the Epic Tale of how you two fell in love, wanting you draped in fineries, at his side at all times, having only the best

I just feel like... he's one of those yandere that really could take you 0 to 100. You fuck the guy ONCE as like a drunken one night stand, a real "fuck it why not maybe it'll be fun" kinda romp, and then he's making plans behind your back about marriage because, well, he just loves you so much already that he can't see doing anything else! 🥰 like can you imagine going from getting cream pied to like only a week later some church is getting constructing with like biblical art of "oh how the king of hell met another and fell in love" and it's foretelling some epic saga that hasn't even. Happened yet. Like imagine the whiplash of finding out the guy you casually fucked is dedicating buildings to. A story of. How he impregnated and married you and you guys "lived happily ever after" and you still barely know him

I like the contrasting options of Lucifer intentionally impregnating you vs unintentionally because THE VISUAL of like. He's just nutted and you're laying there amd he looks down and suddenly there's this little glowing moving picture on your skin of a snake twining around, circling, becoming an apple with a heart or some-- this is a real specific genre of fetish I'm discussing here ok we don't need to like exactly describe whatever magical mark of pregnancy the devil gives you fjdnfjf. But the apple appears and he's blinking at it and, finally, it clicks, and he's all "BABY! B-BABY! IT'S A BABY HHHOHHHHH MY GOD" and he's like EXCITED but also just like. Do you think he'd get a little biblical drooling about 'your womb being blessed' or some shit. Your absolute fucking LUCK OR LACK THEFEOF if Lucifer turned out to ACCIDENTALLY BE CORRECT and you kind of WERE created to be his wife or end up with him, like GOD is up there, "yeah Luci I threw you a bone, enjoy it 👍" like SHIT the one time you ARE cosmically fated to have a mate and it's AFTER YOU DIE? It's also LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR???

I feel like, genuinely the only way Lucifer would mistreat the Reader is completely unintentionally, like he has a bout of depression and neglects you a little, or he becomes socially withdrawn and you think he doesn't like you but really he's just feeling sad or working on something that's really important to him. I mean. This is BESIDES the possibility of confinement but that's for your protection and it's not like you're in PRISON. This guy is clearly packed with goofy loving positive energy. He'll be taking you to the circus and to musicals with his daughter like you've always been a member of the family, getting you your own special throne to sit beside his own. He's having audience with like some wretched soul, there are flames, he's being TERRIFYING, telling them how they've betrayed him and he's going to tear their soul to pieces and sentencs them to eternal suffering, and then he turns to you, "I'm sorry am I making it too hot in here shnookums 🥰 I don't wanna make you and our lil hellion uncomfy 🥰" like.... truly, you got yourself a man that can do both

#yandere hellaverse #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #hh #sinprompts

[vaguely-concerned]

Ever since watching The Wire for the first time, my brain has doggedly kept working away at the Especially the lies of it all, and specifically at how much the structure beneath the different stories Garak tells contributes to the overall meaning of what he’s trying to say. While the contradicting narratives of course expertly obscure the factual circumstances of his getting exiled, using them also allows him to tell aspects and facets of the emotional truth I don’t think he ever could have, if he’d simply told the actual story of what happened. (It’s very Varric-core of him honestly.)

The first story — the ‘oh, you think you know me?’ story — says I have done things that would sicken you if you knew any detail of it. It’s clearly meant to scare Bashir away so he’ll leave him to die shamefully in peace already lol. But it’s also one of his (probably much-needed lbr) little lessons to Julian that are so frequent in the beginning, given while Garak still has some hold on himself — “Don’t be so quick to forgive me if you don’t even know what I’ve done; what would you do if this really were the sum total of what I am?” (And Julian seems to surprise him by going ‘Well, exactly the same thing, because no matter who you are I am a doctor. But I sort of take your point.’)

The second story — the letting the orphans go story — says I have failed to smother my soul in its cradle when it was required of me, and I regret that more than anything I’ve done. To my ears this is the one most shot through with active self-loathing too, which is interesting. He’s officially lost the control he’s been clinging to and it’s about to get ugly. His TL;DR is ‘Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all’, even all the way back here. (Which is the one lesson Julian steadfastly refuses to learn, which I think in turn does some serious rearrangement of Garak’s soul over the course of the show haha. Get uno reversed into the process of loving and being loved without shame asshole.)  This is also where he builds up to admitting to having any sort of need for companionship or closeness at all and — so much worse — that Julian’s role in his life actually has fulfilled some of that need, and he’s DRIPPING with defensive venom over it b/c well I get it Garak vulnerability is scary it can take a person like that. 

(I also feel there’s something honest and forbidden in ‘Suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless’. I suspect ‘actually… why the fuck are we even doing this???’ is not a welcome sentiment in an Obsidian Order water cooler environment, no matter what you’re saying it about lmao. The very first seeds of him deconstructing the things he’s been taught about Cardassia and his work might be hinted at here, though they of course take a looong time to come to any real fruition.)   

The third story — the ‘Elim was my best friend’ story — says hey, remember that thing you said once, about how sometimes, you have to be loyal to yourself before you can be loyal to anything else? Well. guess what. I couldn’t even be that lmao. It also furthers that thread of being divided from yourself, split, that having ‘Elim’ as a separate person around in all versions of the story brings in. He’s in control of himself again, but he essentially hands his life and soul over to Julian to decide what should be done with them. 

I’ve done horrible things and it finally caught up with me, I’m getting what I deserve → I let sentiment master me and the fact that I’m too weak to do what’s needed of me shames me more than the evil I’ve done → I fucked up. I betrayed myself and everything I held to, all for nothing, and I have no one to blame for it but myself. But it’s very nice that you’re here anyway, Doctor. (Wow. I didn’t realize quite how isolated and lonely that last one was before right now. The way Tain has shaped him really has just… locked him completely into himself, huh.) We can also see a movement through from a completely professional context in the first story, to an intensely interpersonal and internal context in the last one — even his fake stories spiral in towards intimacy, which I think is what he longs for here even if he can’t quite like. Touch that without the stories as a buffer yet, it’s clearly like touching a hot stove for him to interact with it too directly. 

And you know what I find incredibly interesting the whole way through? Even on his deathbed, where he’s dying from the thing Tain had put in his head, he’s protecting Tain. He puts all the blame for where he is on himself (‘My future was limitless, until I threw it away’), even if he has to employ a strange twisty logic where he’s split himself into two to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Garak has done horrific things all on his own haha, but it’s notable that he almost isolates Tain from that. ‘Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand.’ Tain in Garak’s stories is this infallible implacable weirdly distant figure, even now. Indeed, as will make a lot of sense with the revelations further down the line, more than anything it seems the gaze of an abused child desperate for recognition looking up at an idealized (if not in any way nurturing) parent.‘He was retired at that point; he couldn't protect me’, Garak says, as if what he’d need protection from in the first place isn’t Tain himself lmao, as if Tain had no active part in any of this. He never lets blame touch Tain at all. At this stage he would rather consider himself a broken flawed tool than accept that the hands that have wrought and wielded him have ever had any fault in them. AND in the middle of it all, with plausible deniability, on death’s door and knocking meekly to be let in before he must finish the mortifying ordeal of being known and test the even more daunting possibility of being loved, Garak at the same time manages to drop the breadcrumb trail of clues to make it possible for Julian to find Tain if he so chooses and gets in the ‘sons of Tain’ thing too for future dramatic irony purposes. Truly he is the Michelangelo of lying. Every falsehood a multifaceted masterpiece. Elim ‘achieving a state of intertextuality in real life is possible if you work hard and believe in yourself’ Garak. I love him so much. 

I think all of this is why “I forgive you. For whatever it is you did,” works so well, because it too works on a structural level. It’s such a deceptively multilayered response — it has the syntax of a joke, in a way, and it is kind of funny even under the circumstances, but delivered with such earnest warmth and fondness. It’s both recognition and acceptance (forgiveness!). It’s saying ‘I finally understand enough of what you’re trying to tell me beneath and through all that, in whatever way you’re capable of, I see you’ and ‘my answer hasn’t changed (bitch)’. The forgiveness Julian offers here is complete — on principle, and out of personal feeling and empathy (only one of which Garak deigns to respond to during the second story, where he calls it ‘smug Federation sympathy’, placing it more completely on the principle side than it probably is. ‘Dude you’re my friend please don’t just lie down and die in a completely avoidable way on me, who else is going to not only tolerate but actually gleefully enjoy me being annoying as fuck over lunch’ seems to be the subtext that’s a lot harder to acknowledge and invite in for both of them. And yet Tain seems perfectly clear on the fact that Julian is Garak’s friend, which, y’know. Must be fun living with the knowledge that Tain has eyes everywhere looming over you every day haha guess you’d just have to tune that out.) 

Most of all — ’Don’t give up on me now, Doctor’... and he didn’t! He didn’t. Augh. Ow.

#garashir #elim garak #julian bashir #star trek ds9 #ds9 #star trek #ds9 meta #S2EP22 The Wire #alternate title: baby's first brush with unconditional love through unreliable narration lol #I'm not sure I got to say everything I want to in this/found the exact right words in places or hit all the nuances #but god help me I so desperately need this out of my brain to free up some disc space so go forth little meta haha be free #I'm sure I'll come back to you in time #meta #enabran tain #(derogatory)

[archie-sunshine]

Please detailed Drift post? 🙏🏼 I am loving your characterization and analysis of him and want him to hunt Rodimus for (sexy) sport and find out that yep turns out Rodimus is also into that

OKAY SO!!!

I characterize Drift as having a lot of problems. Like, he's more of a pile of issues than a guy, specifically around the stuff he finds... sexually stimulating.

I imagine Drift as a switch, but more of a top than a bottom. I picture him enjoying to give a lot, do things his partners find fun, kind of disregard the stuff that gets him off in favour of pleasing his partners(in my mind- Ratchet and Rodimus).

NOW I THINK THE REASON he does this is because he's into- in his mind- freak shit, and would rather die than deal with the rejection of one of his partners not wanting to do the stuff he's into. So he's made the decision for them that they won't like it, and therefore must NEVER hear of it.

This is because drift connects literally everything he does to a vast and complex web of moral codes and personal rules that make him feel like he's a good person. Every good thing he does is a lifeline that he is good, every bad thing he does is confirmation that he is, indeed, still a horrible person like he was when he was deadlock.

All of this is preamble to say:

I believe that Drift believes any amount of sexual sadomasochism he engages in by imagining doing things like tying his partners up or chasing them down before railing them is morally objectionable to the point that it proves he is an awful evil person.

[TL:DR- A helpful gif]

SO! Drift is probably incredibly fucking pent up, but stubbornly refuses to tell either Ratchet or Rodimus a thing about his sexual fantasies. He bottoms for Rodimus because rodimus believes drift is a bottom, and drift believes Rodimus would hate bottoming for him. He's gotten a little further with Ratchet, because he struggles to hide stuff from ratchet more, but either way, there is still something 'sinister' brewing below the surface.

Drift is GREAT at self control, but most of the time that he's horny i think he's sort of like this

And he would, in my mind, need some kind of kick to start being more honest about the stuff he's into. He's too busy looking for the perfect opportunity to subtly hint that possibly he'd like to hunt his partners for sport to realize that he's in a safe and happy situation where he could literally just tell them and they'd be into it.

So i picture Drift fantasizes. A lot. about the stuff he'd like to do(and possibly has done in some alternate stories, albeit as Deadlock) to his partners. And pioneers the practice of catholic guilt as a cybertronian who probably doesn't know about the concept of catholicism.

I imagine he does this when he's supposed to be meditating, then takes a very cold shower at the washracks while feeling bad for his immoral and evil thoughts

dw though, eventually, drift will get his secret revealed and there will be peace and love on the lost light.

[Feeling nosy? send me an ask in my inbox!! ty for the requests!!]

#my art #transformers #archie answers #my requests #tf headcanons #mtmte headcanons #mtmte #drift #dratchrod #driftrod #dratchet #maccadam #valveplug #suggestive

[higuchisora]

The idea of characters from other stories winding up in SVSSS has been stuck in my head for a while but I'm not gonna write abt it lmao so here's what's been rattling around in the ole noggin:

Toph:

Toph would be a genuine menace

Specifically on poor Liu Qingge, who hasn't the slightest clue how he wound up with yet another student

Earthbending should not be possible here. Earthbending is NOT possible here.

Toph invents earthbending here.

In fact, she only gets stronger. Because the cultivation aspects of the world means she's got even more qi and knows more about how to use it beyond earthbending.

She can now use qi itself to "see" (sensing others' qi, using it to sense movement, etc.) Not just earthbending

Lqg wants nothing to do with any more disciples. Especially not ones as annoying as yang yixuan

He gets a gremlin even more annoying than yang yixuan

He lies awake at night, regretting saving her life that one time on a hunt and kickstarting her path of being a Problem

Specifically, he saves her life one night while she's out trying to remaster earthbending, inspiring her to become a cultivator

She runs away from her noble family and their arranged marriage and stifling life that they've planned out for her and heads straight to Cang Qiong's Bai Zhan peak the first chance she gets

Refuses to take no for an answer, thus growing to become lqg's #1 menace

He both blesses and curses the day she was born

Lqg would sooner die than admit she's basically his other baby sister/daughter figure

Will outright refuse to fly on her sword When asked how she'll get around, the earth goddamn MOVES UNDER HER FEET and she causes several earthquake/mole monster sightings with these shenanigans

Is banned from this move

Begins to tunnel underground instead

She could arguably fly on her sword just fine, sensing the qi around her to navigate and shit, but it's harder and definitely uncomfortable and brings back bad memories of that one time in the volcano with Aang and Sokka

Luo Binghe wants her dead

She probably never gets strong enough to 1v1 him and win but she's definitely strong enough to become a genuine challenge

Especially when she reinvents metalbending

Rides for her shizun ong

Would probably fight lbh for lqg's honor after the SQQ corpse situation (he did not ask her to do this)

Aang:

The angel of Qing Jing peak fr

Or that monastery but we don't hear enough about them tbh

Has legitimately no idea how he got here, maybe too scared to question it actually

Like, did he really fuck up and end up getting ripped out of the avatar cycle orrrr????

Decides some things are better left unknown

The only struggle he really has is not being bald anymore

Honestly???? Might still shave his head and just stick to a wig

Would inevitably get caught or ALMOST caught and eventually gets used to growing it out (would probably become the inventor of extensions or wig glue though lmao)

Would make the spoiled qing jing disciples better just by being around them tbh

Star student probably, would be a menace in a cute way

One of the few men allowed on Xian Shu (for visits/messages)

Would probably befriend demons ngl

Loves flying on his sword

Prefers his staff though, and eventually figures out how to make/get someone to make one for him

No one knows how he does the air scooter. They are scared.

No one asks about the tattoos either.

Or how he's controlling all these fucking elements.

He doesn't have an avatar state anymore, but that doesn't seem to stop him from being wildly more dangerous than anyone expected

Possibly unlocks permanent cultivation-blocking? Like sealing off your core

Demons don't take note

Until he learns how to do the same for demonic cores

Exorcist Aang

Possibly becomes a rogue/wandering cultivator

Wandering rogue exorcist Aang????

He's either a god descended upon the earth or a heavenly demon in disguise, according to critics

He thinks it's all silly

Until he meditates too hard and communes with a god or something who tells him they may or may not have bargained to snatch his corner of the avatars soul for a reason

Uh oh

Sokka:

Does not know how he managed to get spiritual energy or cultivate

Actively chooses not to think too much about it

The head disciple of An Ding 😭

Absolutely salty about it

Shang Qinghua is endlessly grateful though

Does not know what to make of the long hair thing; probably tries to keep his hair in a half-pony still, as an ode to the water tribe

I've seen some fics where Qiong Ding is headcannoned as the bureaucratic peak; in this case, he might be able to sweet talk his way in if fate and Yue Qingyuan is kind enough

Either way he's grateful he gets to do sword stuff again

Especially now that he can FLY on them?!

He hasn't completely forgotten his skills, so he's got a whole different style no one's seen before and it's Weirdly Good Actually

He finally works his cultivation up enough to get his personal sword

Then he finally gets to summon his and he cries

It's space sword

No one knows what the fuck to make of this weird ass sword but he doesn't care, it's his and he loves it

Known as the best ever manager of An Ding peak

Katara:

Would have one (1) argument with her brother and march up to Xian Shu

Frequent visitor of Qing Jing and Qian Cao

Mu Qingfang mourns every day that she didn't choose the medicine peak

Katara maintains that she's too ready to beat some ass to ever be a full doctor and vow to do no harm

Never quite learns to be comfy with a sword but can still handle her own

During the demon invasion on Cang Qiong (assuming she's there at the time), she bloodbends Hualing right off the mountain

The demons do NOT stick around

The cultivators are too scared to ask her what the fuck that was but they're nicer to her than before

The xian shu peak gains a fearsome reputation of possibly teaching blood magic

No One gets how she does the waterbending stuff. Outsiders assume it's some Xian Shu ancient secret technique. Or she's related to Mobei Jun. Real members know Kataras just Like This.

Keeps the hair loopies. No matter what people say.

Wears a blue necklace similar to her mother's heirloom; a gift from her shizun probably

Genuinely enjoys the sisterhood on Xian Shu. It reminds her of the better days of her home, before the southern raiders came back

Zuko:

Could've chosen from several peaks, but chooses Bai Zhan

Something about the bamboo on Qing Jing reminds him of his uncle though, so he likes to visit. But not for too long. It hurts.

Isn't really bothered by the long hair thing; while cutting hair isn't forbidden in the fire nation, long hair is common practice, especially for nobles

Keeps the standard topknot until Toph calls it ugly

And then he remembers toph cannot see his topknot

Starts doing ponytails anyway

Also a star student of Bai Zhan, especially after he busts out the firebending forms

Yet another nuisance for poor lqg

He and Toph are the only two that can keep up with each other

Known as the Twin Stars of Bai Zhan

Aka the Twin Headaches of Liu Qingge

Has a small red birthmark near his eye, on the side that used to be burned

The fact that there isn't a massive burn is mildly uncomfortable to him at first. Doesn't feel like himself

Again, No One knows how all these kids with weird qi abilities are coming from

They're beginning to suspect they're all part demon

Neither he nor Toph ever defeat the demon heritage allegations

Especially not with the way they fight. And allegedly have a Past that no one else knows about

Would also fight Binghe for his Shizuns honor

Weirdly chill for Bai Zhan actually

Has probably made leaps and bounds from his avatar hunting days already

Most expect him to have gone to a quieter peak, it's baffling

Until he beats the shit outta somebody

And then goes back to being gentle and chill and forgiving

He wonders if uncle Iroh is watching over him here too

He can only hope his uncle is still proud of him, wherever he might be

Lqg isn't his uncle, but he's still a kind presence that Zuko looks up to a little, even if the guy is a little too punchy

Thus takes it upon himself to ride or die for him

One of the few dual wielders around

His curved blades are also a source of curiosity for the others

But he's good with them so no one complains

In a bingliushen situation, Zuko, Toph, and YYX are feral protective gremlins that somehow make things better AND worse for the development of the bingliushen courtship process lmao

I'll probably make more at some point but that's all for now. If someone wants to make a fic of these PLEASE let me know, link me I'm desperate

#atla #svsss #scum villian self saving system #avatar the last airbender #drabble #no bc this was living in my head RENT FREE #toph being best bai zhan disciple ong #can you tell i love lqg? #i love lqg #i ship bingliushen so hard ngl #especially where lqg is so oblivious to the 2 dumbasses trying to reel him in #while also simultaneously pining over them like an idiot #svsss crossovers #honestly theyd be needlessly protective around ANYONE who wants to date lqg tbh

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story pt.1

Warnings: cheating, illusions to sex, angst, not BETA'D we die like men.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4

Taglist: @vicmc624, @mostlymarvelgirl, @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy, @moonlightreader649, @whattheduckisupkyle, @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan, @mrsbarnes32557038, @imyourbratzdoll

Word count: 1k

I was sitting around the bonfire with the other faculty at Xavier’s after all the students had gone to bed: talking shit, spilling fresh gossip, and discussing all the latest trends. Next to me was my best friend, Ororo when she said, “You do know Logan’s cheating on you, right?”

“Please, Storm. We’ve been over this. There’s no way he does that, it just isn’t like him.”

“Please,” she begged, “everyone else on campus knows, we see the subtle glances, we hear the quiet ‘I Love You’s, we smell his cologne on her so why can’t you see it?”

She and I had had a big fight about this earlier, to her it was as obvious as the sun. I was holding on to something that wasn’t there, a distant memory long forgotten by him

I didn’t believe what they said- moreover, I couldn’t believe- Logan was the first thing in my life that I knew Jean couldn’t cheat me out of or beat me at. Walking down the hall in the teachers’ wing I heard moaning and grunting coming from Jean and Scott’s room, two definite voices.

I had seen Scott less than five minutes ago when I left the bonfire, and that’s when it dawned on me. I crept over to their door, wanting to catch this mysterious offender who Jean was cheating with, a soft gasp escaped my lips when I peered through the crack.

There on the bed lay the Jean Gray who had bested me at everything in life legs wide open with her brassiere unclasped at the front with a barely concealed Logan between her thighs.

Tears welled in my eyes as I took a step back, unsure of what I was supposed to do. I mean, no one tells you what to do if you see your boyfriend of three years fucking another woman.

Walking into our shared room I started packing away my things, everything that was valuable enough to bring with me. I knew I had to come back for the rest but I couldn’t think about that now, I just wanted out.

After I fill my duffle bags and suitcases, I go to make my way out of the door when Logan walks in, looking like he had just gotten out of the shower.

“Honey, whatcha doing? Thought you wanted to stay out at the bonfire a little longer.”

“Cut the shit, Lo. I know everything.” I move towards the door, and he grabs my arm.

“Sugar, I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that.” He says while slightly pushing my baggage down.

“I saw you,” I let out a shaky breath, “ I saw you with Jean just then. I trusted you! Even when everyone told me you were cheating I trusted you! Why would you do this to me, Logan?”

He stood there. Silent, still. As if processing what I had just said. Not moving even an inch.

A few minutes must have passed before he moved to bring his hand to my cheek before I shied away. “Sweetie, baby, please,” he begged, a thing I seldom saw from him, ”I swear, that was the only time.”

“Really? Because the rest of the faculty, save Scott and Professor Xavier, has been telling me all this for months!” I didn’t care if I woke the entire school, I had been wronged and cheated by the one person I trusted with my deepest fears and my insecurities. The man I had wanted to spend the rest of my life mere hours earlier betrayed me in a way no one should have to experience, and I would let him fucking know.

After hours of yelling at Logan, my voice was hoarse and raw as tears streamed down my face, people began to run over to the faculty wing to find out what the commotion was all about, hearing the scandalous but anticipated news and spreading it down the chain. Until everyone from the bonfire called it a night only to find they couldn’t even get to their rooms with the amount of people crowded around.

Scott shoved his way through to the front as I yelled, hearing me say his partner's name in the context of cheating, he looked at her, across the hall from where Logan and I stood, hope draining from his eyes and he understood that she had chosen Logan while trying to keep him along.

“I’m sorry, you had to find out this way, Scott,” I say, apologizing to Jean once again.

He turns around and the crowd separates like the Red Sea for him, now with Jean following, apologizing, begging for him to forget about this, how it didn’t mean anything to her, to turn over a new leaf; to wipe the slate clean. He doesn’t face her, not while I can see.

I pick up my bags again just for Logan to reach out once again, “Please?”

He sits there silently begging. I pull away, watching the hope in his eyes crumble.

“We both know it’s too late for that, Lo.”

The crowd separates once more as I make my way down the stairs, out the front door, and to the garage where my 65’ Thunderbird sits. Popping the trunk, I picked up my suitcase when I saw a silver streak of light pass by.

“You’re gonna leave, just like that?” Peter says, leaning back on the driver’s door.

“What else should I do? It’s not like I want to see them after this.” I load my smaller bags in and shut the trunk before moving to the door.

“That’s fair.” Peter says, backing away, ”But is there nothing else keeping you here?”

A soft gaze met mine, practically begging me to stay.

“Pete, I don’t need another reminder that I’m nothing but sub-par in comparison to the great Jean Gray. I don’t want to feel like that anymore. I’ve been compared to her my entire life, it’s time I meet someone who sees me for me.”

And with the nod of his head, I drove out of Xavier’s School of Gifted Children for the last time.

#fanfic #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel mcu #logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #xmen #logan howlett #xmen fanfiction

[faetaiity]

As much as I adore yan/turtles, Casey doesn't get as much love as he should. So may I kindly request a yandere casey one shot?

<3 anon

HELLOOOOO I AM BACK (hopefully) FROM THE UNDERWORLD CALLED BURNOUT I wasn't truly able to make a one-shot bc I actually haven't thought about what kind of Yan Casey is, so I think this'll prolly be a Headcanon post with a small story at the end kjgfjlklkgt, sorry :')

✩ Yan! Casey Jones Jr x Gender-Neutral! Reader ✩

Story Format: Mostly Headcanons

TW: Manipulation, Guilt-Tripping, Panic Attacks, Yandere (Obv-) and Mentions of Trauma for Casey

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

I feel like Casey would be an (Unintentional) Manipulative, Isolating, and Paranoid Yan

He's heard so much about you from Future! Leo and Mikey in the bad timeline...

You probably let him stay at your apartment while the Turtles set up a room for him

I also feel like the first signs that he's slowly downwardly spiraling into toxic love is when you try to leave the apartment for work/school/errands

He flips his shit, still in the Apocalypse mindset of 'Don't go alone, you'll fucking die via the Kraang'

He has a panic attack, and you have to stay to help him because he is sobbing and begging you not to leave

He calms down after a bit, clinging to you as he begs you to stay for a bit more, or take him with you

He can keep you safe, you say you can defend yourself but he's adamant

He doesn't tell you why he freaks out when you leave specifically, but it's traumatic for him knowing you died in his timeline

If you end up staying, it's kind of like when you reinforce a dog's bad behavior, they'll do it more, thinking you will comply

Anytime you try to leave without him now, he sobs crocodile tears and begs you not to, it's gotten so bad that he doesn't even have the panic attacks anymore, he's faking it knowing you'll stay if he makes you believe he is.

He finds you trying to comfort him a euphoric situation, furthering his "love"

If you call his bluff, he'll immediately go back to actual panic attacks though

He gets defensive if you have any friends over that aren't April or the Turtles

He doesn't trust them, his memories of the Apocalypse made him wary of almost everyone, he's seen other survivors kill those he loves or knew from the Resistance

He can't let you meet a similar fate in this timeline

If you're a push-over, this can boil over into him being wary of everyone except Michelangelo and Leonardo

It's awful at that point, he has bad panic attacks (Both real and Faked) if anyone comes into the house that isn't Leo or Mikey

Once his room at the Lair is ready, he refuses to go, freaking out that he won't be with you and you will be alone

at this point, it's clear to everyone that he's extremely dependent and attached to you, almost to the hip at this point

He didn't have time for relationships in the Apocalypse, this can both be an Advantage and a Disadvantage

He doesn't know what's the "right" way to love someone romantically and is immediately overbearing and panicky

But he also doesn't have the belief that you would lie to him, you're someone who can be trusted, why would you lie to him?

You'd have to come up with a good lie, like needing to take a shower alone (This is especially good if you have issues with sensory input regarding showers)

Better hope your Bathroom has a window if you use that lie.

If he finds out you lied to him, game over, he's throwing an absolute FIT

Sobbing, screaming, hyperventilating

The whole nine yards man

He won't believe you ever again, even if what you're saying is true

Goodluck, bro is gonna be watching you pee or something, yuck.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

You had lied to Casey, you don't know how he didn't deny your request, but you aren't complaining

You see yourself as one lucky bastard right now.

Turning on the cold water as a distraction, you stare at the tiny window, also known as your ticket to getting the fuck out of here,

Climbing on top of the toilet, you part the small private curtains blocking creeps from seeing you do your business, opening the window you try to find a good way to fit through it while making as little noise as possible

Hard task when you're trying to fit through a window the size of two desk drawers.

You fit your head through the window, eagerly pulling your body through until you hear Casey knocking on the door

Fuck.

"{Y/N}? Are you alright?" He asked, his voice sounded concerned and mildly bored, like he wanted to be in there with you.

You don't know what to say, as a heave of air would give away what you're doing.

Trying to get through the window quicker, his knocks become more frantic, as he attempted to turn the doorknob, but was stopped halfway due to the lock

Halfway through the window, you hear him trying to beat the door down, you panic and try to hurry up your pace, abandoning the attempt at being quiet

As you get your knees on the hard steel of the fire escape, you scream as you feel him yank you back into the bathroom, you didn't realize quick enough, and were dragged onto the hard tile floor within seconds before you could attempt to resist

Crying from the stinging pain of hitting the tile floor, you look up and see Casey, his face red with anger and tears streaming down his face

"Why?! Why were you trying to run?! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?!" he screeched, he's shaking from the anger and hysteria he's feeling

You flinch from his loud voice, unsure of what to do now, he's staring at you before grabbing your hand and trying to gently get you up, which seems out of character as he's literally crying in anger

You don't get up willingly, which makes him resort to just picking you up and walking into your bedroom, setting you on the bed as he pulled out a pair of cuffs, panic jolts through your body as he cuffs you to the bedpost, he heaves a sigh

"Now think about what you've done, what you've done to damage our relationship.... I need to go cool off...."

He walks out of the bedroom, leaving you there for what will feel like hours.

You just had to listen to him, and would've been happier, now look at what you've done

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#bro idk the ROTTMNT casey tags.... there's so many??? #fae being a dumbass #chaotic gremlin fae #fae rambles #fae rambling #rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt headcanons #save rottmnt #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere rottmnt #rottmnt casey jr #casey jones #rise casey #Casey x reader #rottmnt casey jones #rottmnt casey junior #Rottmnt casey x reader #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

[bonefall]

Now this had me thinking... Would Willowpelt die in the same way as canon (although to another creature im assuming since bb!badgers aren't as dangerous as they are in canon)? If she's getting kept around longer, maybe Cricketclaw is the one who sacrifices herself instead? That sounds like a fitting way for her to go, considering she couldn't protect her own siblings?

I feel like I should add a TM to anything that I'm working on in my drafts that has significant progress and is blog-plot-relevant, that will explain something exactly like this LMAO

Forgive me I am, at heart, a bear that eats half a salmon and then forgets I had a fish at all

Willowpelt's brush with death is staying, and is actually a bit plot relevant in Firestar's Quietus! I have a very specific scene which is actually totally written out-- actually fuck it, I'll just post it here

Context and narrative purpose of this scene:

Firestar is informed of a boar on the territory, and gathers a little scouting patrol to try and figure out what sort of hog it is.

VERY IMPORTANT SEGWAY. Because of how Willowpelt gets bitten here and Firestar loses a life saving Sorrelpaw, they all end up in the Cleric's den where Ferncloud is telling a story both to practice her new job as upcoming Educator and to comfort everyone.

The fact Willowpelt is not dead is how I get Littlecloud away from Runningnose and Firestar

Runningnose has a hunch, in this moment, that goody two-shoes little Firestar might be the perfect person to help Brokenstar, and teases the visions and revelations he's about to have

Establishes that boars are the new Big Bad Beastie of BB

Presents Sorrelpaw's epilepsy and demonstrates how it is a danger to her safety

(this is a lot of buildup but this is actually pretty short lmao)

So anyway before I let you go on to the readmore and a preview of Firestar's Quietus, no one takes Willowpelt's death here, and Willow is going to hang on for longer. I wanted to make sure I have a good amount of cats to kill off in the carnage of the White Hart's destruction.

Wherever Cricketclaw dies, it will be for a purpose. Either to show how bloody the TNP conflicts are, or in a greencough epidemic because I'm trying to make sure those aren't just "Kill a bunch of randos offscreen" disease anymore.

WILLOWPELT'S BOAR

The patrol is Sandstorm and Sorrelpaw, Willowpelt, Longtail and Sootpaw, and himself. It's just supposed to be for scouting, hence why the apprentices are coming along.

Unfortunately the hog has other plans, lunging out of a bush and going for Sootpaw

Willowpelt jumps in the way and gets bitten instead

Sorrelpaw acts quick, slashing its sensitive nose, drawing its attention and bolting as fast as she can

RIGHT as she crosses the Thunderpath, her body goes limp and she falls to the ground

She is having an absence seizure, and fallen flat on the road

The hog is hot on her heels, bowling after her, when a monster screeches to a halt out of nowhere

The hog is frozen in the headlights, Firestar bursts into action to pull Sorrelpaw out of the road

(i hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums) BUMP BUMP

The boar and Firestar have been hit by, have been struck by, an automobile

When he sees StarClan, they're about to greet him with love. But their faces turn to shock and fear, the scenery becoming sinister and trees falling down.

A fifth oak tree is crashing down towards them. Firestar stares at it, dumbstruck.

Just before it strikes him, his eyes snap open

Firestar resurrects with a burst of energy, dragging Sorrelpaw off the road and into the safety of a fern on the ShadowClan side

The humans are coming out of the car to examine the boar they struck, but Firestar doesn't have time to consider that or his vision.

Littlecloud's head pokes out of the foliage and he springs into action, checking them both for injury. Breathless, Firestar points behind him and rasps, "Willowpelt!"

Littlecloud nods and bolts across the road.

Runningnose saunters out from a different angle-- one where he would have been able to see the road. Everything that happened.

His gaze is unsettling as ever, pausing, eyeing the leader up and down.

He starts tending to Sorrelpaw, then mumbles,

"Brave of you."

"It's what any leader would have done."

"No. It's what you always do."

Firestar doesn't know how to respond to that, but he's glad Runningnose isn't staring at him anymore.

But continues, "You will learn terrible things in the days to come, Firestar, and StarClan will not answer the questions that find you. If you seek the truth, meet me by the mothermouth on the night after the next gathering."

Sorrelpaw is leaning up now, her eyes dazed and confused, as if she's trying to figure out what happened.

#So Crick could still get killed in the Boar Attack of BB!TNP #But I'm unsure yet. It's not a pressing matter either though #Because I also wouldn't mind just keeping her around until a Po3 epidemic #But there's THREE deadly events in TNP so it makes the most sense for her to meet her maker there. #Firestar's Quietus #better bones au

[rdng1230]

10 things Easily fixable about That thing that happened: look, killing off Izzy Hands was always gonna hurt like a bitch. And it was a stupid decision, but what really made it worse was how many ways they could have made it better and specifically didn’t, so here’s a list in no particular order of general things that I think would’ve made things suck less, and a couple different story fix proposals. Maybe if I write it all out I can move on a little bit.

I know it was for budgetary reasons but it bothered me Ivan was killed off with one sentence and never mentioned again. I think what would have worked is if Ivan had been a little more fleshed out in s1, and then had him die on screen at the hands of a particularly dickish British naval officer in 2x01. Cut to episode 7 and said dickish Brit is Ricky’s number two. Izzy could have willingly and purposefully drawn the fire of officer asshole, as an acknowledgement of his failure to save Ivan and his past failures to be a proper protector of blackbeards crew, and to save the crew he’s now realized is his family that he is willing to die for. In addition I think that would’ve helped set up the British as being an actual formidable bad guy, because up to this point they were the most looney tunes ass villains on the high seas. Also it would’ve been an interesting symmetry to have the loyal pirate first mate vs. the loyal imperialist scumbag first mate. Think of the banter people.

I hate it when bad events in stories are predicated on having highly intelligent characters be complete idiots. You’re telling me Izzy fucking hands didn’t check noseless wonder for weapons? Fuck off. At least have a fellow soldier toss ricky a musket or something, or just have another soldier shoot him.

I think the main issue here is agency. Yes everyone consented to going into battle that way, but Izzy’s shooting was unceremonious, it wasn’t like he charged somebody or acted as bait, he just got hit by a stray bullet (It’s giving “your shirt” and I fucking hate it Iykyk)

Literally no one attempted medical intervention to help Izzy. Roach isn’t gonna stuff a rag in there? Jim isn’t gonna pass a knife to help rip Izzy’s clothes to visualize the wound? Fang and Frenchie aren’t gonna hold his hand? We’re not even gonna fucking try?!?!

if they had to center Ed’s issues with Izzy’s literal dying words, could we have at least have it be a big character moment for Ed to say “yes the crew is my family, but they’re yours too and I promise I’ll take care of them and make amends” like if DJ is so convinced of this father mentor thing (which seriously what the fuck is he even talking about) what’s more par for the course in this trope then the ole “you’re the man of the house now son you gotta take care of the family” routine

look, I know they got a short episode that they have to keep short. Cut a minute of time out of that breathtakingly awkward fishing sequence from the beginning and give Izzy’s death some breathing room. FFS the fallout from Karl’s and Lucius’s finger’s death had more reaction and more airtime than Izzy Hands (and more effect on the story)

Ricky fucking got away and no one talks about it. It would’ve been great if literally anyone had said “yeah we’re going after that guy” or “we may have won the battle but the British are always out there and one of these days we’ll meet again” just an acknowledgement that one guerilla battle at the republic of pirates was never gonna be the end of it.

this one hits close to home for me. I live on a boat, my mother is a licensed 100 ton ship captain. We’re seafarers goddamit and when we shake off this mortal coil we are buried (or cremated and scattered) at sea. Izzy Hands would not have wanted a land burial and he would’ve wanted to be buried at sea like the distinguished pirate he is, by the crew that became his family.

This segues into the burial at sea thing but maybe don’t bury him without his leg on, like just don’t do that. Don’t put his cravat and mothers ring where anybody could just come along and yank it off, Jesus.

I think frenchie being captain was a weird choice tbh. I love frenchie but he is a jester, a troubadour, a fae walking among us, the worlds handsomest grifter, but this dude does not want to be captain. However, if you had to make him captain I think it would’ve been nice to have had a scene post amputation where Izzy deliriously tells frenchie all these bits of advice about being first mate/captain and how Izzy had failed to be a good one in the past. I just loved the frenchie izzy bond in general and I would’ve loved another extra scene with them. This also would’ve lended itself well to frenchie being the one to outwardly grieve (the box opening up finally) during that minute of breathing room post death that I mentioned was needed earlier, maybe he would’ve reprised la vie en rose, or played a shanty/wake song that everyone could join in on.

I’m sure there are other things too that I’ve forgotten, but I think this covers most of it. Let me also say Izzy’s death was hardly the only issue I had with the finale, but that moment was the most egregiously and easily fixable (or at the very least mitigable) plot point. At the end of the day I think Izzy should’ve just not fucking died, but if they were gonna kill him, there were so many more respectful ways to do it.

#Izzy hands #ofmd s2 spoilers #everyone feel free to add on what I’ve missed #Ofmd

[raccoonfallsharder]

recommended works ⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹

these are the folks who have written or drawn something (specifically within the rocket raccoon fan community) that either murdered me, resurrected me, or both.

(i am always open to recs so if you wanna link me to your fave i will be so happy to check them out)

⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎ fanfiction ☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹

The All of You (ao3) i fuckin love this story so hard. i love the OC. i love the writing. i love the set up. i reread this probably every month or so and pine for more. it's so fuckin good. @lazarel-3000 is a double-threat (at least) who is also on my recced artist list, which means (obviously) they are a recced creator as well.

Casino Royale (ao3) this fic by @hibatasblog (see also: Entanglement, below) is so fucking delightful. petra quill is so hot i want to date her myself, and the tension between her and rocket is through the roof. loving the angst, loving the little ways that heartbreak seeps through every new paragraph, loving the mystery of trying to figure out what happened to petra and rocket to set them on their separate paths and now bring them back together. always waiting anxiously for the next chapter.

Entanglement (ao3) this fic by @hibataao3 has me rationing my consumption in a way i have not done in a long time. i'm like "i only read one chapter a week to pace myself, as a little treat for surviving another seven days." beautiful writing and intricate storytelling, the metaphors and analogies are so good i almost wish i was back in undergrad writing a thesis on it.

Friends (tumblr) @nyxivy is making their way through the rocketober 2023 prompts and the first fic of the series is. so drool-worthy. i've probably read it fifty times since it came out. short and so hot i could die (much like rocket himself), and somehow incredibly sweet in just the span of a few paragraphs? i will continue coming back to this fic and look forward to more from them at every chance i get.

Get Up (tumblr)@caesarhamato22 is another person on my recced creator list because trying to find just one fic to call my "favorite" is a challenge (obviously i was unsuccessful because there are two on this list). anyway this is lovely and fluffy. i die.

last (friday) night (ao3) nsfw. trying to pick a "favorite" of @aliasrocket's work is like trying to choose a favorite incarnation of rocket (i cannot). guess who is also on my recced creators list.

more than seven (tumblr) second @caesarhamato22 fic on this list and another recced creator. this one is one of my favorite comfort fics (i mean it's still sexy as hell) that i come back to very often. like it's just so wonderful and sweet and perfect and atmospheric and vibes

stars. (tumblr) ☕︎ stars. (ao3) sexual tension & some of the loveliest atmospheric writing i've ever consumed. another @aliasrocket fic that lives in my head.

A Very Basic Instinct (tumblr) ☕︎ A Very Basic Instinct (ao3) nsfw. when i tell you this fic did things to me. it is probably one of the fics i reread most. like, all the time jkjk only semiregularly. check out the author @elegant-fleuret for other equally brainrot-inducing smut (also mentioned in my recced creators).

⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎ art ☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹

@bathmob i wish. i could draw rocket. like this. the vibes are so good. the style. is perfect. i thank the universe whenever i see new art from them.

@glow-autumz is absolutely going to be a published comic artist some day and i will buy anything she works on ever. literally everything she creates has a story behind it, which i love. like, not only are her illustrations gorgeous (and like…often very hot) but every single one is (at least) a single-panel narrative. plus her OC is also cool as hell and i love her interpretations of rocket.

@lazarel-3000 creates the most toe-curlingly delicious art i've seen in a long time. i am seduced by pretty much everything they create. even their rough drafts have me panting. (i also have a crush on their OC and as a bi-lady i look at their art and am often like oh shit this is a fuckin feast). as mentioned before, this artist is also the author of one of my favorite fics and is a recommended creator in general.

@uglly-rodent posts always make me want to pinch the babby raccoom's cheeks and/or cry.

⊹˚₊⊹˚☕︎ creators ☕︎˚⊹₊˚⊹

@aliasrocket writes such beautiful things it is impossible to pick a favorite (i got two of their fics in the fic section and it was difficult to narrow it down that far and even now, i'm not certain). their tumblr has the added advantage of a ton of drabbles, every single one of which is perfection.

@caesarhamato22 read everything. like everything. great smut but i am a sucker for the slice of life shit and it's so fuckin good here. i just wanna be a nail tech on knowhere/locked in a closet with rocket/have him steal my t-shirt/whatever. it's like all my most domestic desires got turned into little fanfiction dreams. so much wish fulfillment i could die

@elegant-fleuret has great fanfiction (more than just the one on my fic list - i just felt like i had to narrow it down and A Very Basic Instinct literally gives me a a fresh hit of dopamine every time i reread it, which is a lot). plus also art. double-threat.

@evolvingchaoswitch writes with a ton of vulnerability and rawness and angst. i am also in love with the shorter pieces they've been putting out for rocketober 2023 (some really great poetry, some really emotional oneshots, some really hot oneshots). plus their OCs always fuckin rock

@lazarel-3000 look. look. i cannot say this enough. please go check them out they are hope in a hopeless place. some of the sexiest art + one of my very favorite fanfictions + one of my very favorite OCs have come out of this flawless individual. (full disclosure they also did some nsfw art of my OC jolie and rocket that has me crying and dying and hyperventilating on a daily basis)

@love-for-faeries-go-burrrr has another one of my favorite OCs and i am always hungry for their little storylines whenever they post.

@mrwolfhare is one of my favorite sources of gotg food-for-thought. just some of the most thoughtful explorations of the details of both the mcu and comic canon, excellent headcanons, beautiful screenshot sets, and really solid art. the drawtober art and ficlets have been highlights in my days this month and i'm told there may be a rad fanfiction on the horizon so keep your eyes on this! (rad fanfiction is here now! read Subject 880HR on ao3)

#rfh recs #rocket raccoon content #fanfiction recommendation #rocket raccoon fanart #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #fan art #fangirl #gotg #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon

[t00nyah]

t00nyah explaining project moon without actually explaining project moon

after posting lcb trigger warning i wanted to do this

or

me explaining project moon in the shortest way possible except its goofy af bc im eepy and lazy but im in a desperately talkative mood (i post mostly about limbus company since it came out cmon)

what the fuck is projmoon:

project moon is the coolest ever indie game development team we love them; they've made three games so far, also have an unfinished novel, a...idk, just another novel that was initially a comic but im a hater (im sorry(not)), and another comic

they've been doing it for like 7 years almost and still have no idea what optimization is but its okay we love them

there's a lot of killing and just amoral guys in general who can and will kill thousands. its THE 'your meow meow killed thousands of people' 'and they looked good doing it!' universe. everyone is fucked up there guys. but UMMM thats kinda the appeal

so the games! we all here are gamerzzz!

LC

it all started 6 years ago, when lobotomy corporation released in early access and my gf was like hey look what i found

lobotomy corp is a game where you're a manager in a big company, L corp, and you have to get your guys, employees(lucky ones who got the job) to work with abnormalities(fucked up creatures) so they would generate enkephalin, a big energy resource

except your guys will probably die when you're already so attached to them so you just restart the day each time this happens

theres like a maaassive plot, it is the beginning of literally everything, like some stuff still haunts us in limbus company (looking at a particular individual) and there are more characters that you'll fucking love(sephirahs) and then learn their fucked up story (and then learn your fucked up story and not be happy about it)

ah yes while im on it theres no actual self incert in project moon games im sorry but every character IS a character

gameplay-wise you just have to organize your guys, give them equipment, assign them to a job, make them suffer and struggle to suppress abnormalities if they try to make a mess(kill everyone) and do hard tasks your besties make you do

LoR

later, in like 2018 i think, they almost immediately after full release of LC announced a sequel, library of ruina

library of ruina is a game that continues the story(duh) and i can't tell you much about it without spoiling lob corp too, but in this one you have to USE BRAIN like A LOT because its a STRATEGY CARD GAME

in this one you dont even have a character you play as, you just follow the characters' on their journey. but dw! you'll get your own customizable guys to adore here too!

basically in this game the characters from LC and your guys are called librarians and you have to greet guests of the library, that were specifically invited there and /tp-ed, basically fighting them. every battle has its own story and eventually it branches off into four arcs and oh gott i love library of ruina a'right you meet characters for like one story and then have to fight them knowing their issues and how life fucked them over enough to get there</3

gameplay-wise you build cool decks from cards of those you've killed for your guys, pick guys for fight and then pick cards. simple. i think. not so simple in game but i simplified it

there's also a lot of amazing lore drops, bc in LC we were kinda isolated and focused on the corporation, but in LoR? we get to see all kinda of people of The City, we learn about The City, we learn about factions and all, we get all the lore we missed by being stuck in that manager chair

LCB

okay and now we're here. limbus my fucking company.

limbus company was, again, announced almost immediately after LoR's full release(PM are CRAZY), and released february 27 of this year, and already has more story in word count than lor does or so i've heard...

limbus company is pm's first mobile game(but dw there is a steam release if you're more of a pc person or your phone will explode if you try to install it(and it will)) and their first...(behold) gacha game. yep. but no dont get scared it actually has the best gacha system ever known to men

they've also tried to make it enjoyable without getting into previous games but to me it doesnt feel right i dunno i feel like it's just not that cool without knowing the context and going insane screaming at carmen or connecting the dots, also like the events of LCB are all connected to LC and LoR, so ummm if you try to get into limbus without at least learning what the other games contain be ready i'll personally explode you

in this game you basically play as dante(they/them for the sake of mysteriousness of 'who TF they are') and you have 12 deranged guys named the sinners who are ALL BASED OFF FUCKING CLASSIC LITERATURE did you fucking know pm are fucking literacy nerds and cant have a game without book references without exploding??? well they are.

so the characters (IN CASE YOU'RE INTERESTED) are:

1. gregor (metamorphosis, franz kafka)

2. rodion (crime and punishment, fyodor dostoyevsky)

3. (emil) sinclair (demian, hermann hesse)

4. yi sang (the wings, yi sang (kim hae-gyeong))

5. ishmael (moby dick, herman melville)

6. heathcliff (wuthering heights, emily bronte)

7. don quixote (don quixote, miguel de cervantes)

8. hong lu (dream of the red chamber, cao xueqin)

9. ryoshu (hell screen, ryunosuke akutagawa)

10. meursault (the stranger, albert camus)

11. outis (the odyssey, homer)

12. faust (faust, johann wolfgang von goethe)

also don't forget dante is based on the divine comedy by dante alighieri!

also dante DOESNT FUCKING KNOW SHIT. faust seems to know all shit and never tell dante.

i mentioned it being a gacha game. so like. you dont pull characters. instead you pull the initial deranged guys' alternative versions where they end up on another job like cult leader or a terrorist idk

the best part? you dont necessarily have to get them from gacha in most cases, you can get special currency, ego shards, to get whatever you want separately. also pm added ideality that you get from unfortunate pulls that you can spend on the special identity from the banner. but tbh i think its way easier to get the shards needed than pull that much, not really worth it

gameplay-wise? well. you have to basically just choose your guys' identities(those alt versions, they use them in fights to be stronger), choose their skills, a little similar to ruina (except TBH lcb lets you fuck around and put it on auto until it doesnt really work out (please dont autoplay with r corp ishmael or at least check what they're doing you silly goop they might do friendly fire if you're stupid enough)). the game consists of cantos, chapters that tell you a separate story of a sinner(in the order i gave earlier, not everyone knows that), that have story-episodes(cool ones), story-and-fight-then-episodes(epic ones), and sometimes just-fight-episodes(who the fuck thought those are a good idea?). and in the end of a canto there's always a dungeon. honestly, first two cantos are easy enough to just learn basics yourself, im rambling at this point

there's also hellish grind options and paid stuff like battle pass with the coolest perks ever

also LoR and LCB have mili songs, which is fucking cool, they're such bangers. no no projmoon games' ost in general. just fuckign bangers my guys and i mean it.

well that was fun and games. like i mentioned theres also:

Distortion Detective

im such a fucking fan of this unfinished novel, im so upset they abandoned it </3 pm did say they're probably going to rework it as a game or smth later but in my opinion it just loses its charm if its not a novel

distortion detective ... i cant explain it without spoilers to the games but its basically about moses, the distortion detective, who solves distortions which are like uhhmmm... people turning into some funky shit(that expresses their feelings). and she has a parthner named ezra. they're both poor traumatized women. and stuff happens. thats all i can say without spoiling everything. you learn a lot about the distortion phenomenon from moses' perspective.

WonderLab

wonderlab is a comic made by artist mimi, that follows taii, rose and catt. its about another lobotomy corp branch that actually introduces us to the concept of abnormality aberrations (slightly similar but different abnormalities like we have a little red riding hooded mercenary's(do you remember me mentioning pm being literacy nerds?) team fortress blue team version or whatever) that is used in limbus quite a lot so we old people from LC can be like 'heehehehe this is like like snow white's apple's aberration, so funny, reminds me of good ol' days...'

Leviathan

my main enemy. initially it was a comic, but i think they had to stop working with the artist for some reason and continue it as a novel instead.

issue?

i didnt read it. im so sorry i failed you. but i cant. first vergilius, main character, is ugly AS FUCK and he's STUPID i hate his guts. BUT OH DEAR LORD HE APPEARS IN LIMBUS COMPANY AND I HATE HIM EVEN MORE. AND NOT JUST APPEARS, HE'S THE GUIDE OF THE BUS, HE'S KINDA ALWAYS THERE. I HATE HIS GUTS. oh hey lap-- charon, no, you're good, you're amazing, vroom-vroom, yes, right, you're so right.

i'm pretty sure it has A LOT of important context for some stuff in LCB but i just CAN'T MAKE MYSELF TOUCH IT. please read leviathan for me.

i'm sorry it turned into a looong ramble but here's t00nyah's awful brief guide to project moon. in case you want to know about world-building or the story in particular...i'm always here to dm me. please do. i really love telling people about project moon. there's just a lot to unpack.

edit. okay apparently it was easy to misinterpret my leviathan commentary so im putting this here for the sake of clearing the confusions for future!! tl;dr: i know it wasn't continued as a comic for REASONS, it's OBVIOUS!! and yes, leviathan is important, i just can't make myself read it therefore don't have enough knowledge to write about it(cool idea: write your own post about leviathan if you're seeing this and are enthusiastic about it! i just won't.), i still don't like vergilius, it's just a me-thing. DO read leviathan if you're interested</3

edit2. after thinking for a while, decided to add this just in case: i was given a summary of leviathan! well. it IS something. (opinion on vergilius hasn't changed much sorry not sorry, still a me-thing.) but yeah 👍 all good 👍 still not liking it much, mayhaps because i couldn't read it myself, but. it can be found here in the comment section.

#project moon #lobotomy corporation #library of ruina #limbus company #distortion detective #wonderlab #not taggin leviathan pm people are gonna fucking tear me apart for the slander

[isabeljkim]

What the hell is going on with Day Ten Thousand:

Day Ten Thousand was weird enough that I felt like it deserved directors commentary, even though I’ve stopped explaining myself mostly except when I do.

Here’s a disclaimer before we begin: don’t read too much into it. I've noticed our culture wants to explain young womens’ art as some sort of public confessional booth and our current culture has a fetish for the autobiographical. Fuck that. I didn’t write three different POVs and three interlocking nonlinear narratives about the nature of storytelling as a psychic technology to be told that my writing isn’t a calculated Craft with a capital C. Now whether it is good Craft is a decision for you, not for me. 

Anyway. 

Day Ten Thousand is a satire of an Isabel story by way of Vonnegut pastiche. We’ll come back to this. 

I called Day Ten Thousand “psychoanalysis bait” on twitter so I shall put all my cards on the table so that your psychoanalysis is at least accurate. Note that these are only my cards, because other people deserve their privacy. I guess you could probably Google all of this but like, jeez. Don’t.

I had a pretty regular time in college except for the tangential deaths. 

When I was twenty, I was the opinion editor for my university newspaper and a girl who was a friend of a friend killed herself by walking in front of a subway. There was then a sort of a small suicide bubble which was a little bit public because we were an Ivy, and one of my opinion columnists was kinda suicidal, and I, without any training, ended up in charge of writing a front page editorial about the mental health crisis on campus on account of the dead kids, etc, and talk to administration about the dead kids. 

I hate talking about dead kids. Don’t ask me about it, or about the reporting. I don’t want to talk about it. 

The whole thing sucked shit and it’s why I’m a lawyer now and not a reporter. 

If this was a story that would be the only fact, but this is reality so I have to mention that a couple years later a guy I knew got literally hate crimed and murdered in a forest. I found out about that because I saw his friend crying in public and didn’t stop to ask what was wrong. Later I heard about this in the news, and realized my acquaintance had been Literally Fucking Murdered. A few months ago I had been arguing with him in the literary magazine editors meeting about whether a poem was good or not. I think he won that argument. Then he was murdered for being gay. 

These were my introductions to the specific emotion of “sometimes people die and you don’t feel like you get to feel bad about their deaths and you still think about it a couple times a month seven years later.” 

You can probably guess where the subject material of this story came from.

Day Ten Thousand was a story about inevitable deaths, and the difference between a death in a story and a death in reality, and about…the way a death marks a narrative and a real life and how it becomes fictionalized over time. I also saw a clean way to finally do my deep time / far future story, which was something I had been thinking about on and off for a couple of years (the original version was about a shaman in the deep-time era who has a vision about having to do a murder re: preserving genetic material for the future, but it never really gelled in a way that made sense). 

I had also been wanting to write something a little metafictional, because I felt like I was writing the same story over and over (if you’ve noticed my stuff getting weirder, that’s why. I was on a bit of an experimentalist kick late last year and early this year). 

So it’s a satire of an Isabel story. I’m self-aware enough to note my obvious recurring motifs: time travel, dead people, grief, people who have a weird relationship to each other, a third-act twist, the tendency to punctuate with in-universe facts to imply emotion, to tell x in order to show y, egregious and blatant use of the second person. And then there’s the stuff that you wouldn’t know, but I do: I dislike writing in the first person, I wanted to do something nonlinear, I think a lot about stories about stories, about the idea of a story as a technology, I find myself dropped into recursive fate-like thought patterns. So a lot of this story is both my self-deprecating poking fun at myself and my habits, and also my thesis statement about…what is the point of fiction if not to make sense of the past and the future, I suppose.

The reason it is a Vonnegut pastiche is because I like Vonnegut a lot and I was trying to do something Slaughterhouse-5-ish with drastically less fucked source material. Sorry Kurt. 

There are three stories happening in Day Ten Thousand, and a secret fourth story. Each story is a suicide loop. The protagonist is trying to break a specific loop by telling a story. This story is about accepting what you have to, and changing what you can. This is a story about letting go and also not letting go. The emotional range of each narrative affects the other psychically, because by changing the vibe of the metanarrative, the individual narratives are allowed to change. 

The story in the archaic is a story that is being told postmortem, it is all hypotheticals based on fact. The story in the future is a singular narrative happening in real time until it isn't. And the story in the present is a guy telling the story about the future, which requires him to tell the story about the past as well, and mostly what Dave is doing here is avoiding the question, but it reflects how Dave thinks about the girl dying in front of the train. 

Does that make sense? No? That’s fair. That’s a postmortem explanation of what actually happened. What actually happened is that I rewrote Day Ten Thousand six times, each time more frustrating than the last, each time with the neutral-ish narrator taking up more and more air. And over time the narrator became a participant, and that’s what created the secret fourth story between “you” and the narrator. 

I had thought there were only three loops that needed to be escaped - the past (archaic, pinned story), and the future (space station, mutable fact), and that the present (the narrator’s world) was something that was static (pinned fact). After all, the girl’s already dead. She’s already stepped in front of the train. 

But the narrator isn’t doing so hot. The narrator is also Dave. And the narrator is telling the story to someone. Somewhere between version one and version six, I realized the only version of this story that makes sense is the one where the story is a conversation, and that you and I, as the narrator and the person at the other end, were also in a loop. 

So. That's whats happening.

I’m not sure if I love the ending. But I rewrote it six times and this one felt as final as it is going to get. I am done reinventing the fucking wheel. You know how it is with spaghetti. Promise I’ll write you something normal next time, I think I’ve gotten the avant- garde out of my system for a few months. 

And hey, I know I said all cards on the table but people deserve their privacy and that includes the kid i used to be when I was twenty, sitting in the shitty little windowless opinion column office, writing about suicide. 

Anyway. Day Ten Thousand is about stuff and things. Themes. So it goes. 

Thanks for reading. I’ll see you later. 

If that was too depressing for you, here are some fun facts: 

The main character is Dave after 2001: A Space Odyssey because I had wanted to make a “I’m sorry Dave I can’t do that” joke, but I couldn’t shove it in :( 

I just thought that phlebotomist was a funny word but I also fucked myself because I misspelled it every time. 

I reread half of Slaughterhouse Five to write this but then my copy got returned to the library automatically so I didn’t finish it. (yes, I’ve read it before, like three times)  

I took one single evolutionary anthropology course in college and it shows.  

I did end up looking at the wikipedia page for “the wheel” for this and then wondering exactly what I was doing with my life. 

About half the facts in this are real, and I read a couple of papers for a couple of things in it (that I promptly then ignored), but the rockets-rome-horse’s ass thing is specifically a story that my friend Max H. likes to tell. 

[strawhatsoraya]

hi love!! first of all how are you? how are things going? Hope everything’s okay. so, I’ve been reading your fics for a while now and I absolutely adore your style so I decided it was time to ask for one and hope for the best. it’s a NSFW with Zoro and a F! Reader, it would be about her joining the crew around skypiea and them pining for each other but being so good at hiding their feelings both them and the crew have no idea (Robin would still notice somehow ahhaha) but that only leads to the feelings become unbearable so I would say after the events of thriller bark (specifically Zoro taking Luffy’s pain) they just explode and they have a hot steamy session LMFAO (you have all the freedom to decide the details of how and why exactly they just say ‘fuck it’). hope you will enjoy this request and if not there is absolutely no pressure for writing it, of course. <3 byeeee

Hey lovely! It's been a week but I have this fic for you!! And man, am I happy to present it. I love Zoro, and I love pining, so while this was a very LONG labor of love--I had a lot of fun. This piece is a bit massive. It has 7.9k word count so it is not for the light of heart lol but if you read it to the end you get to reach the center of the tootsie pop *wink wink*. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

The Pull, the Moon & a Wish Upon A Star

ZORO X FEM READER | NSFW / Soft Smut ™  WORD COUNT: 7.9k CONTENT WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, nudity (duh), unprotected sexual intercourse (just don't do it folks, only works in fiction), biting, scratching, kissing, lots of angst and sexual tension, if you're looking for light and fluffy this isn't it, excessive mentions of the moon (so if you're anti moon gtfo), groping, nipple play, zoro talking too damn much and being a little nasty, for ZORO this is pretty TAME because he is like....enamored, so just let him be, allow this moment of softness because it doesn't come often, so, SOFT ZORO, and like this is zoro being soft so if you don't think it's soft enough...idk what to tell you, it's zoro, i proof read it twice so if you find a typo ignore it, if you tell me there is a typo you need to suck my dick first, thx A SUMMARY: I don't have one. Read the request lmao.

I - NEW MOON 

A dreamer has no home in Mock Town. 

Dreams were for children. Quaint little stories made of glittering sand sprinkled into their eyes, blinding them to the harsh truth of the world. The sting would force their eyelids shut, and they’d drift off into lands made of fantasy and fluffy clouds, carrying them off to somewhere peaceful; somewhere they would never be hurt, a haven safe from pain. 

They’d lay in their bed woven from lies while the moon spills its light through the window.

It had been a long time since there was any moon watching over you. You slept in darkness, holding the lies you told close to your chest. A romantic heart held prisoner in a chest constructed by cynical chains. You spoke like a realist, even when it split your tongue in half. The taste of copper grounded you to your reality, and you swallowed it down, finding it a fitting exchange.

Your blood for the chance to avoid their scorn. It was the price you paid to live in anonymity.

Loneliness went down easily when you drank it with whiskey. You had learned this years ago, so you consume it daily; a necessary evil. It is smooth on your tongue as you watch them from your corner of the establishment. The back of their heads are unfamiliar as they sit at the bar. You think you imagine it, the way your heart seizes at the sound of his voice. A gruffness so rugged it cuts into your skin, spilling everything you held inside. You scoop it up immediately as you throw the rest of your drink back into your throat. The burn in your chest is antiseptic. 

Dreams had nowhere to run in Mock Town. This is where dreams came to die.

It is a mantra you repeat, with every blow they deal on the loud captain and his swordsman. It is a mantra you clamp down on with aching teeth, when their navigator begs them to fight. Your fingers twitch around the etched glass in your hand. You grip it so tightly it cracks, like fault lines across the illusion you had been hiding behind. When they leave the bar, everything shatters.

You wake up, at last, from the nightmare you had built yourself only to plunge into a different colored one. 

They’ll never come back. It is a lie you feed yourself, cram it into your mouth and down into your stomach, until everything overflows. Until you believe it. You pick up the fallen pieces left in their wake and start gluing them back together, before your heart can escape again. But he does come back, and a hammer swings into you when his fist flies into Bellamy’s face.

You chase after him as he takes his prize, your oversized kusarigama attached to your back. The chain links clink as you run, its sound chasing your steps. His name is stiff on your tongue but you cast it out, a coin entering a fountain–one last desperate wish. Luffy finds your proposal comical, and so is the weapon on your back. He smiles until the corner of his eyes crinkle, a smile so radiant you swear you’ve only felt the same warmth under the sun. 

“Please!” your voice pleads, hands grasping at invisible strings. “I want to see the sky island too!”

His hum is contemplative. You feel time stop. You don’t breathe, you can’t, until he answers you at last: “Sure!” His laugh is infectious and odd. “You seem pretty strong, Kusari.” It isn’t your name. It never has been, but it sounds right when he says it.

It still sounds right when he introduces you to everyone; feels right in your bones. The swordsman’s eyes connect with yours–his gravity too large for you to avoid its pull. Inside you, the ocean’s tide begins to change. A smile graces your lips, congenial and friendly. One that was practiced and rehearsed, like every lie you told. Pretending was a curse you had been tasked with. It was easy and it was necessary. The method that always kept you safe.

Zoro shakes his head at everyone’s enthusiasm. Luffy’s impulsiveness was something he was used to, but disagreed with, time and time again. You were a risk he would have never taken. There were too many dubious variables, your background as a bounty hunter made you skilled and dangerous. His doubts on your genuineness are cast aside by excitement of a new adventure. Zoro lived on the edge of his swords, betting his life at every hurdle, his destiny always held firmly by his own capable hands. Sky island or you, it didn’t matter what the peril was. If it was in his way, he’d cut it down without mercy. 

It would be a shame, he thinks–an afterthought polluting his resolve–if he would have to make you his enemy. Your weapon intrigues him, at least that’s his reasoning. There would be no other behind his curiosity. You had a face he could forget, if he really wanted to try. 

He’d just have to want it badly enough.

II - WAXING CRESCENT

A persistent irritation, like a rash from a poisonous leaf, plagued him. You were too familiar, too quickly ingrained in his routine. Your sense of humor reminded him of Robin. Your mouth was always twisted, in a cynical kind of smile–but only with him. It annoyed him. You had no riddles for Sanji or Luffy or Usopp, but when you’d speak to Zoro–he was constantly baffled. 

What was your insistence on befuddling him? He figures ignoring you would do the trick but your presence is unforgivable; a sin, like a nick on his blades, a scar on his back, a sake poured on dirt. He wanted to obfuscate your existence, like a dark cloud in a night sky, hiding the moon from sight.

Robin and you quickly become a pair, synchronized jokes, and synchronized looks. You team up and prepare riddle after riddle that Zoro can’t seem to solve. He contemplates leaving you two with Nami to your devices but there are so many unknowns in the jungle his conscience doesn’t allow it. His worries become unfounded when he watches you wield your weapon with ease. There was no sign of hesitation when you acted on Chopper and Nami’s behalf–placing their safety as a priority. His shoulders relax, but doubt still circles–a fin in the water–reminding him that it was still too early to tell if you were friend or foe.

Friend or foe, he can’t deny it.

Your face was one he could forget, if he really wanted to. The problem was, he was starting to believe he didn’t want to. In the brief free moments, his eyes would search for it–like a dry tongue seeking water. The softness of your cheeks beguiled him, made him wonder, like a fool, if they were soft as they looked. But your smile was a blade whose sharpness he knew too well. He couldn’t allow himself to be cut. It was a shame he could never live down.

III - FIRST QUARTER

An adventure on Sky Island had been one you never even had dreamed of. An island in the sky was something only children thought of. It had been a long time since you basked in innocence. 

The thrill of surviving by the skin of your teeth still thrummed through your body. You giggled, a drink in your hand as you enjoyed the kitchen to yourself. The crew had gone to explore Water 7 and while you were happy to be part of the team–it was still something you were getting used to. Working by yourself, for yourself, had been something you’d done for years and were good at. Now, there were others; people you had started caring about.

He finds you in the kitchen, and immediately is envious of the glass in your hand. Not because the dark amber contents swirling around two blocks of ice is alluring. Not because of the way condensation clings to the glass, a sign of deliciously cold temperature enough to soothe most kinds of thirsts. He is envious of the glass, how you cradle it possessively when Zoro steps closer. He is envious of the rim, how your tongue flicks out to lap at a stray drop, sliding down–how it is graced by your lips when you bring it up for a drink.

“Looks good,” he says with strain. Tension pulls at his neck, making it difficult to talk. “Is there more of that?” 

You gesture at the table, where you had left the bottle of whiskey. He intends to move, truly, as he is mere steps away from your body but your eyes are bright and mystifying. They jumble his thoughts and it takes a quirk of your brow to kickstart his brain once more. 

As the moon commands, the tides obey, and a series of events unfolds that can’t be stopped. There’s so much to think of, you almost forget how much Zoro ails you. You forget how you think of him at night while you try to find a comfortable spot to sleep in. You forget the way his eyes pierce you during dinner, how they steal your breath. You forget the strange moments his hand brushes against yours when you pass him by, and the strange way he says your name as if it was a kiss given in secret.

You forget until Sanji is irate, top lip curled in anger. His words bounce off you, and you frown with a small shake of your head. You shake it, not because you find the accusation incredulous–you and Zoro had fought the best you could to protect the money–but because it feels as if you should care more. Zoro–usually calm, composed, quick to avoid drama–always flies at the handle at Sanji’s provocation. This time it’s no different. He comes, not to his own defense, but yours. The cloud over your mind lifts, and there’s a light beaming into your chest. Your mouth twists into a grimace.

You try to keep the light out by bringing a hand to your chest. Beams slip right through the cracks of your fingers. 

Your hand is still over your chest when Robin goes missing. You seek her out, desperate for an ally to make you forget–to remind you of the dangers of letting others in. There was an unspoken understanding between you two; a darkness shared and understood. You understand this even when you find out about Robin’s possible betrayal. In your heart, you try to reason, in your mind you find enough to doubt. When Zoro speaks up, like the devil on your shoulder, and makes it clear he isn't holding his breath when it comes to Robin, coldness sets in. People were complicated. You had learned that lesson with blood in your mouth. You wonder if Zoro has learned this as well–or was he the darkness too? Did he find it hard to trust? Had he been forced to cement walls around himself?

You begin to sink in, hiding behind your usual facade. Lies slip out of your mouth, one after the other, snakes with two and three heads. It was better this way, fabricating a self so different from your true source that nobody could ever hurt you. Desire could only lead to disappointment. Whatever embers he had left behind on the back of your hand, you try to smother it out, covering it with your free hand.

IV - WAXING GIBBOUS

Raucous laughter meets shadows and light.

Luffy could never pass up a party, and after saving Robin there was so much to celebrate. The taste of sake on his tongue was familiar; a pleasant burning whose limits he knew all too well. This was something he could control, a phenomenon that did not incite fear or anxiety. 

He could not say the same about the phenomenon of your skin under the light of the moon. A throat so dry he feels choking seizes his words, so he drinks and drinks and drinks. Relief never comes, sentences he repeats in his head as he circles around you fester in the pit of his stomach. You are so happy–elated even, that Robin is back. You haven’t left her side, cracking joke after joke.

It’s sickening how much it irritates him that you refuse to be alone. If it’s not Robin, it’s Nami clinging to your hand, offering you another drink. If it’s not Nami, it’s Luffy trying to shove more food at you–food you gently refuse. If it’s not Luffy, it’s the stupid cook, hearts shooting out of his eyes as he touches your hand.

Your hand–the one he hasn’t touched.

He bites down so hard he thinks he’s cracked a tooth, so he spits at the ground, expecting blood. He sees nothing, and chooses to believe that this means nothing. The sake is rotten, and he is tired, so so tired. Zoro doesn’t pray, he has never prayed in his whole life but he considers it that night when he closes his eyes. So he hopes instead. He hopes he’ll be over it in the morning and you’ll be nothing–a long forgotten moonbeam in a distant night sky.

He wakes up, and realizes quickly that you are still not nothing.

He swings his swords repeatedly, motions that he is familiar with. He focuses on the strain of his muscles, the ache slowly setting in. He focuses on the sweat on the back of his neck, the one dripping down his rippling muscles. He focuses as much as he can, but your gaze on him is fastidious. 

He senses you watching him, a strange lecherous feeling that twists his stomach. He refuses to meet your gaze and bites down again. If his teeth cracked then so be it.

You are shameless, he thinks, as he swallows his drink. Your dark eyes are unwavering, focused on his neck. Zoro swallows, heart beating in his chest like a wild animal. His foot is under the table, tapping away as he tries to keep the rest of him still. Nami is arguing with Luffy, and Zoro shakes his head slightly, trying to wake up from the spell you have casted on him. He should laugh with the others, he should ignore Sanji’s pointed stare, he should ignore the cold sweat on his forehead and the sudden dip at the pit of his stomach when you lick your lips. 

When you finally drag your eyes away from his neck, in a way that looks like it pained you, Zoro takes a sharp breath. He thinks you have set him free from this twisted prison but you ensnare him again when you meet his eyes. Zoro brings his glass to his mouth once more, and swallows the remains of the whiskey.

It burns his chest on the way down, but there is a fire more heated and consuming at the bottom of his stomach. One that builds higher and higher when you smile at him.

Later that night, when he’s prowling the newly constructed Thousand Sunny like a restless large feline, Zoro has to remind himself why he even set out from his hometown. He reminds himself that he has to become the strongest swordsman, as he fights the urge to slide his hands down his stomach, to reach further down for the arousal that bothers him. His forehead pressed against the cold wood of the training room, he tries to reason with his breathing. He thinks about the new bounties announced, the thrill of new adventures. There is no room for deviation in his goals. He knows this. There is a set path to follow–the one the moon has been guiding him to all along.

Turning to you would just lead him to darkness. Zoro refused to be swallowed up by it, no matter how alluring the flash of its teeth were.

V FULL MOON

A life for a life.

He thought nothing of it at first. He thought it necessary. At first he had lived selfishly, seeking to keep a promise given a long time ago. Somewhere along the way, his Captain’s dream had become as important as his. Somewhere along the way, he had friends he cared about, friends he wanted to protect. His strength alone had not been enough, and so for this sin: he offers his life.

If there was anyone who could protect the rest, it would be Luffy.

He tries to hold on to this hope as pain cuts into him. It rips at his skin, making tatters at what keeps him together. Blood splurts, hot and searing. A pain that burns so deep he thinks it’s in his soul. He clenches his teeth, willing for them to crack and splinter off, if it means keeping quiet. A man should not cry when his mind has been set up.  His eyes are open but he sees nothing–not in particular, except his own blood clouding his vision. 

He tries to focus on other things, when a pain so blinding and deep makes him want to drop to his knees. He thinks of Nami and Usopp, and hopes they’ll be okay. He wonders if Chopper will grow happier. He wants to believe Sanji will get stronger, enough to continue protecting everyone. That stupid, idiotic cook who had tried to offer his own life in his place. Zoro grimaces, a pained groan almost leaving his mouth so he bites down on his tongue–metal taking over his taste buds.

He had no regrets. He never had any but as his vision becomes blurry there’s a face that fills his eyes. A different kind of pain booms in his chest, until it fills everything, until it pushes out the air from his lungs. He takes a ragged breath, and feels fear for the first time in a long time. He fears regret. He fears never seeing her face again. He fears never knowing.

He should have held her. He should have kissed her. Just like he always wanted to.

He curses the sound of your voice, the same that cuts through the pain, and reminds him to hold on. He curses the softness of your skin–the back of your hand, the only sensation he knows of you. He curses how he craves to know more even in the face of this endless pain.

He curses you over and over again, until it is done, until all he knows is the pain you leave behind.

Sanji annoys him. Zoro tries to not lash out. His body feels heavy but he feigns it. He tries to keep it  together for as long as he can. He has to make sure they’re all okay. Once he is convinced that it was all worth it, once he sees your face wearing an expression he doesn’t want to think about, he allows himself to rest. It takes all the energy he has left to leave you–to walk away from you without touching you, to not run his fingers through your hair, to press your body against his. 

As consciousness fades, he wonders how much longer he can hold back. Would he regret it later? If he died? Would he regret never telling you? His inner voice becomes slurred, incoherent, distant until darkness takes him under.

Robin tries to tell you, even though Sanji tried to stop her. She tries to tell you the truth about Zoro but you dismiss her. You insist it is none of your business. Your voice is calm, flat even, as you fold laundry in an attempt to hide your trembling hands. In your mind, you’re screaming. In your mind, you want to run and grab him by the neck. In your mind, you want to understand what possessed him.

But in your heart you know why. In your heart, you know that Zoro wouldn’t have had it any other way, so you try to pretend you don’t know. It was the least you could do to pay him back for what he had given you all.

You know he will be fine. You know he will recover. He just needs time. You want to give it to him, and you do, as you try to stay busy. Still, your feet are treacherous. They keep taking you back to him. You watch him sleeping, a sickness weighing you down. Your eyes feel full, a heart so heavy you think you might collapse under its weight. Heavy feet root you to the spot by his bed. Trembling fingers reach out, so hesitant they can only touch lightly. You softly brush fingertips across his forehead; your silent prayer for him to wake up soon. The sight of his battered body makes you sigh, and your tear filled eyes rest on his hand. Those hands that had protected everyone time and time again. They seemed so strong every time he wielded his swords. Not once did you think they could look this frail. You reach out to touch the bandages, and gently squeeze his wrapped index finger.

Just as gently, you reach down and kiss his temple. 

“Wake up, idiot,” you whisper, lips brushing against his clammy skin. “I miss you.”

Your confession feels like a knife you pushed into your own chest. You move quickly, almost run out of the room. Blood gushes, and you hold up a hand, trying to push it back in; the feelings, the words, that kiss.

When he wakes, it takes a moment to feel like he is awake at all. It isn’t until the straw hats leave Thriller Bark that he feels more like himself. Per Luffy, there’s a celebratory dinner. Brooks–someone Zoro was still getting used to–had taken it upon himself to be the night’s entertainment. Fish-Man Island was the next destination and Zoro’s excitement was slowly overtaken by hazy thoughts of you. The more he drank, the more he thought he should finally tell you. The more he watched everyone laugh, eat, sing, drink—the more he thought he should just accept it.

He should accept the pull you had on him. He should accept the command, the order of things; like the moon and tide.

He follows this pull up to the crow’s nest, newly remodeled by Franky. There’s little time for Zoro to admire the modifications. He is too busy trying to find a way to breathe again after the sight of you left him breathless. You’re bent over the telescope, gazing at the sky–he figures maybe the moon, maybe the stars. He’s not sure. All he’s sure of is that his heart might burst if it beats any faster. All he is sure of is that if he doesn’t find a way to silence it, you might hear it past the bones, and flesh entrapping it. 

A fluttering of anxiety fills him with dread. A strange feeling he isn’t familiar with. It feels as if it was imperative he touches you; as if he didn’t, only death would follow, as if he didn’t hold you, the world–his or everyone’s–would end. It was such a dramatic, sickening feeling he wanted to rip his own heart out. If that was the solution, he’d do it but he had a feeling at the pit of his stomach that even that wouldn’t work.

He tries to quiet his breathing, not wanting to disturb you, too mesmerized by the sight of your round and plump ass. There’s fire over his skin, blistering and searing the hairs on his arms. He clears his throat, alerting you to his presence.

You turn around, embarrassed that you didn’t feel him entering the room. It’s a fleeting emotion, quickly overtaken by something much more complicated; heavier, infinitely more deadly. It is sickening, really, how insanely attractive he is. You swallow with difficulty, suddenly annoyed that you didn’t bring a drink with you; anything to whet your appetite if it meant keeping your hands off Zoro.

“Hey,” you say softly, trying to buy time for your mind to kick into gear. The cogs in your brain are sluggish. You blame the alcohol, and not the fire in your belly. You want to tell him you’re glad that he’s awake. You want to tell him how scary it was, but you know he wouldn’t want to hear that. “I’m sorry I drank all your sake while you slept,” you tell him instead, your mouth stretching into a crooked smile. “I figured someone should.”

He scoffs, matching your grin.

“That’s a poor excuse. You’re such a liar,” he tells you, and you take a sharp breath. You’re not sure if he meant it–that you were a liar–or if he just said it in passing. You blame the alcohol for your confusing thoughts, and you blame it again when you don’t notice the way he has quickly breached the distance between you two.

The moon is full and bright, hanging high in the inky night sky. Its light is bright and it shoots through the window, spilling over the floor. Zoro is mesmerized by the way it glistens on your brown skin. You look so small against the window, with your back to the moon, it makes him want to crush you against his chest. His mind is hazy, his tongue heavy. He blames the sake. He blames the sake and the moon. He blames them as his hand reaches out to brush a curl out of your face. He tucks it behind an ear, his eyes memorizing the roundness of your cheek, the shell of your ear. He blames the moonlight on your skin, when he cups your cheek to see if he can trap it there, between your skin and his calluses.

He blames the night sky, the smell of the sea when he reaches down to softly brush his lips against yours.

You can’t breathe when his nose brushes against yours. You still can’t breathe when he pulls back, enough to look down at you. His eyes stare into yours and you still can’t find your breath. You think you’ll die now, by Zoro’s mouth, by his hand on your cheek. Your heart pounding against your frail ribs reminds you that you’re still alive. It is a resounding call to arms. You think you should pick up your weapons, but the fire in his eyes burns your resolve to ash.

His heart is on fire. Zoro knows that is a ridiculous thought. He knows that’s not even correct or possible, but the longer he looks at you, the more he feels it to be true. He hears it in the distance; the sound of war—drums, and screaming, blades scratching against each other, sinew tearing, blood gushing; throbbing in his ears and in his veins. 

The sound echoes in his body, a rush of adrenaline lighting small fires throughout his being. This moment feels infinite, as if he is frozen in time. A want so desperate pools inside him until it ignites. 

He comes tumbling down when he kisses you again. A ravenous mouth open and seeking against yours. His large hands hold your face, as he brushes his tongue against yours with the sole purpose of consuming; conquering. Your tongue is warm and soft, slippery, a sensation he can’t get enough of. He hums when you give in, when you let him suck on it without inhibitions. His breathing is harsh through his nose, and it becomes quicker when you place your hands over his, when you move them down his arms onto his chest.

You grasp on to his shirt, as you return his kisses. His teeth are unforgiving. They bite down on your bottom lip, on the corners of your mouth. He is insistent on discovering everything about it. He runs his tongue against your bottom lip, his forehead pressed against yours. He wonders as he sucks on it, how many times have you bitten down on it, how many words have you swallowed in place to offer lies instead. He’s never told you how often he sees right through you. He sees it even now, as you struggle for control.

“Don’t fight it,” he breathes against your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. “Not now. Not tonight.” He kisses your closed eyes; one at a time. He kisses your cheeks, lips blistering hot. You feel him brush his mouth against your jawline. “Don’t think. Not until tomorrow,” he asks you against your neck, trailing kisses down the column of it. You think about this offer, consider rejecting, but when his teeth snags against the soft flesh on the hollow of your neck you forget everything. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he follows your collarbone to one shoulder. He bites down with enough force to make you cry–one that turns into a soft moan.

It is enough. That is the sound that snaps his resolve. He wanted to be gentle. He wanted to make this moment last, as if he would never have it again, but you are something he was never prepared to fight against. When you moaned, with your nails digging into his back he was left with no choice. He had to have you, tonight, at all costs.

His hands are as unforgiving as his mouth. They rip into your clothes, ignoring your protests. The sound of tearing fabric is accompanied by the sound of your gasps. His breathing is harsh against your ears, causing a wetness between your legs you try to take no responsibility over. It is the sight of his chest, wide and thick when he rips his own shirt that makes your mouth water. Your hands reach out immediately, just as you always dreamed of. You run your palms over his muscles, memorizing every dip and sharp angle, as you press your open mouth to his neck. You suck on a spot, determined to leave a mark–any. It was desperation. One that was fed by fear. You feared this moment not lasting. You feared never again touching his skin, kissing him, holding him.

His own desperation was evident by his greedy hands. They way he seized your hips, to press his erection against you. His hands slide over your hips to your ass, and he digs his fingers into the supple flesh. He’s kissing you again, a clash of tongue of teeth; sloppy, and messy, a wetness on your chin he licks up before sucking on the spot. Zoro’s eyes take in the sight of the floor, as you kiss his chest. He moans when you bite down over a nipple, and he pulls on your hair.

“Stop that,” he hisses, pushing you back towards the benches. “Or I’ll fuck you on the floor.” It doesn’t sound unappealing to your ears, so you try to bite his other nipple but he is faster than you. He picks you up by the ass, forcing you to shout in surprise.  Zoro carries you to the bench, and he sits down after placing you back on the ground.

You look down at him, and his naked chest. His pants are still on and you feel extremely exposed. Zoro had, in his efficacy, ripped every single article of clothing you had on. Leaving you naked, and heated. You scoff.

“So you get to keep your pants on?” you ask him, pointing with a frown. Zoro laughs at you, as he reaches into his trousers with one hand. He pulls out his hardened cock, and strokes it gently. There’s a lump in your throat, one with no name, so you swallow it quickly. The sight of his pink tip is enticing. He smears the precum over his slit with his thumb. You think it a shame, and almost tell him so but he’s speaking trying to get your attention. 

“Pay attention,” he tells you with a raised brow, his hand settled now at the base of his cock. You raise a brow to match his. Zoro smiles, and pats his lap with his free hand. “Come here,” he commands you to move towards him, heart hammering away at the prospect. You had thought of this moment before. You had no shame admitting it now. You had thought often of how it would feel to have Zoro inside you, so deep you could feel like dying. It seems Zoro had other plans when you approach him as he spins you around by the hips. “This way. Your back to me.”

You swallow and sit on his lap, feeling his cock pressed against your ass. He kisses your shoulder, your neck as his hands roam over your thighs. There’s a slick coating your folds. You’re more aware of it the more he touches your skin. His breath is hot against your ear when he speaks again: “I’m going to spread your legs,” he tells you, and follows through quickly on his statement, spreading them by grabbing your thighs. You gasp, cool air touching your heated core. Zoro runs his tongue along the shell of your ear. He nips the top of it, teeth sharp and digging hard enough to leave an imprint. You feel yourself getting wetter. 

“You’re wet,” he breathes out–a heated whisper, almost trembling. His fingers rifle through your folds, slickness covering his fingertips. Zoro presses his mouth against your ear, his eyes closing at the pleasure. It feels so silky and soft in his fingers. He craves more. “I’m going to make you cum,” he tells you, slipping one finger in slowly, one knuckle at a time. “I’m going to make you cum over and over again. I want to touch you everywhere, deep inside.” He slips in another finger when you moan, curving them in search of that spongy spot. His desire builds the wetter you get, the more you moan and whimper in his hold. His cock is hard, and it leaks again against your back. You feel it there sticking to your skin. “I want you,” he growls against your shoulder, as he picks up the pace, scissoring his fingers inside your squelching pussy. “I want you so badly. This isn’t enough.” His teeth sink into the soft flesh of your shoulder. You cry out, as he clamps down harder, leaving a mark on your skin. He kisses the blooming bruise, hand moving desperately as you clench around his fingers. The soft pad of his palm beats against your clit, his calluses eliciting a pleasure you never knew could be possible every time they brush over your sensitive nub.

He leans over you, his broad chest making you feel vulnerable and small. Your thighs are aching as he continues to push his fingers in and out of you. “Maybe another one,” he grunts in between pants, peering over your shoulder. He watches himself insert a third finger into your soaking pussy. You cry out, at the sensation of being stretched. He is watching himself work, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Sweat clings to his temple, and runs down his cheek. You’re doing your best to hold back, the fear of being heard keeps you from giving in entirely but the sight of him so enthralled with the way he’s beating into your pussy makes you want to fold. “Do you like it?” he asks you, panting against your ear. You whimper and bite down on your lip, almost drawing blood. “You’re so wet and so tight. I think you do,” he insists, licking your ear, and sucking on your earlobe quickly after. “But why are you holding back?” His mouth is flushed against your ear, his breath humid. “Are you scared they’ll hear you?” 

Zoro chuckles lightly against your ear, picking up speed until it becomes a brutalizing pace. The sounds in crow’s nests are lewd enough to make you blush. You hear the wet sound of your pussy, the way you keep whimpering and gasping. Your body is shaking. 

“Come on, babe,” he asks you in almost a whine. You gasp, and moan, surprised at the visceral reaction your body had to the sound of his soft voice. “Let me hear you. The real you. Or do I have to fuck you harder?”

The moon continues to hang high in the sky as he works his fingers inside you. Its beams scatter in the room, casting shadows over the side of your face, and over your breasts. He wishes he could see more than he does. He wishes he could memorize the sight of you, falling apart to his touch, and never forget it. The scent of your shampoo haunts him, so he scissors his fingers inside you in a desperate attempt to even the odds. 

He kneads one breast with his free hand, squeezing its nipple between index and thumb. When you cry out, he gasps loudly against your ear, surprised at how much that turned him on. He wants to hear it again, again, and again; so he repeats the motion, twisting and pulling until you’re moaning and whimpering in his embrace. Your skin looks so soft under the moonlight. He brushes his lips over your neck and shoulders trying to taste you. It isn’t enough so he tries again, chasing the essence that makes you who you are. He nips at the flesh of your back as you bend over, a particular strong jolt of pleasure forcing your tummy to contract. No matter how many times he digs his teeth into your skin, until you’re covered in crescent shaped marks, he can’t seem to get his fill of you. You feel so good around his fingers, your arousal dripping down his wrist and his forearm.

Your orgasm catches him unaware, and he slows down his fingers, surprised at the loudness of your voice. He finds himself laughing against the hair above your ear, pleasure making him shiver. His fingers slow down slightly before he pulls them out entirely. “About time,” he whispers before he has you flip over to face him. He adjusts you on his lap, until you’re grinding your soaked pussy on his cock. “But we’re not done. I need more.” He brings your face to him, a hand on the back of your neck. The kiss is forced, mouth pressed tightly against yours. You whimper softly under its weight. Whatever tenderness that kiss held evaporates when his attention moves downwards to your breasts. 

He sucks on your breasts, as he grips your hips. His fingers hold you so tightly you’re compelled to move them against his length. He leaves bites over the swell of your breasts, and the fire inside you continues to burn. You had stopped trying to hold it in, your moans cast into the shield of darkness like stars on the inky sky. Zoro seizes them with his mouth, teeth bearing down on them. He pins them to his body like decoration and seizes to find more, conquer another every time he nips at your sensitive nipples. You hold on to Zoro, desperation forcing you to dig your nails into his back. Every time he kisses your breasts you feel like melting, disappearing into the heat of his mouth. 

Your hands reach out to his face, trembling. Your hips move still, the heat of Zoro’s hands keeping them steady. His eyes on your face send a shiver down your spine. Your breath feels so out of reach, as if you’ll never catch up to it, to place it back in your lungs. You trace over the angle of his cheekbones, try to memorize the sharpness of his jawline by going over it with one index finger. Although pleasure continues to build, you’re distracted by the sight of his ears. His earrings trap the light of the moon, and they blink repeatedly, little stars hanging from his earlobe; a mesmerizing sight that makes you want to make a wish. If you wished with all your heart, would it come true? If you wished for a dream, would it be fulfilled?

Your breath hitches, eyes glued to his swinging earrings. Their beautiful golden color is made all the more striking against his tanned skin. You touch them, fingers playing with them. Zoro takes your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist, the pool of your palm. He moves your hand to his chest, and presses it there. The feel of his heartbeat steals your breath. You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness, but Zoro is kissing you, taking your bottom lip into his mouth gently. You hold his face between your hands when he pulls away, feeling like you’re holding on to water. His hands are back on your hips. He lifts you up, as the fingers of one hand drifts to his earrings again. You brush your fingers against them, and they make a soft tinkling sound–a quick little song–as he buries his cock inside you.

It is better than you could have ever imagined. He fills you in an instant, provoking moan after moan to flood your mouth. Soft, and steady, you tell yourself, pressing your forehead against his. He lets you lead at first, his fingers tapping repeatedly against your hips. He’s counting, for who knows what, timing an entrance. 

Zoro thinks he's finally lost his damn mind. He was determined to savor this moment—like an expensive whiskey, consumed in small sips, swirled around the tongue before swallowing, but you’re so wet, your arousal coats his belly, and sinks into his pants. You’re hot inside, fiery, and smooth. Every swirl of your hips reminds him of how desperately he wants to ram into you, again and again. He thinks about you clenching around his fingers as you moan against his mouth. He sets his jaw, trying to tighten his grip around his willpower but your pussy is even tighter. His breathing is ragged, he shakes his head, trying to cast off the sudden heat in his eyes making him see red. 

But he can’t help it. He can’t fight it any longer.

“Okay,” he says against your neck as you continue to bounce on his cock at a slow pace. His hands are on your hips, they grip tighter. It should have been your warning but you’re so caught up in the feel of him, eyes shut as your face is turned to the ceiling, that you don’t realize what’s happening. “I’m sorry but I need to do it my way now.” He holds you still, and starts thrusting up into your pussy at a maddening speed. You cry out at the sudden change of pace, fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. He hisses, but he doesn’t let up, selfishly chasing the high of your tight pussy. 

“Oh my God,” you cry out, eyes shut tightly, as pleasure courses through your body. 

Zoro laughs against your pulse. He sucks on it even as laughter rumbles in his chest. When he comes up for air he asks you: “Who’s that? Don’t know him.”

You laugh but it turns shrill, morphing into a cry of pleasure. Zoro feels you clench around him, faster and faster. He moans, and bites your chin. He picks up the speed, angles his hips with his eyes on your face, determined not to miss a single thing. When you cum, fall apart around him, he watches you with his mouth open–barely staving off his own orgasm. You fall into him, and he holds you, your body twitching in his embrace.

“No,” he says, pushing your back on the bench. You look up, eyes fluttering close, your body feeling heavy and sore. “A little bit more. I need just a bit more.” You shake your head, weakly pressing a hand to his chest. Zoro takes your hand, wraps the arm attached to it around his neck. “Don’t act weak with me. I know how strong you are. So just take it. You can take it.” He takes one of your legs and places it on top of the backrest of the benches, your ankle bumping into the wall. Zoro stares down at you, and you’re caught again–by the heat of his gaze. Dark green lashes fluttering under the moonlight, his swinging earrings blinking at you, his mouth parted, a flush on his cheeks. It all looks so divine, you think this a sight belonging to the gates of Heaven. You think you’re close to dying.

And death comes calling when he enters you again. You have nothing left inside you to fight it. You moan time and time again, with every brutish slam of his hips against yours. His balls sound loud and impossibly perverse every time they slap against your ass. There are bruises forming, you’re sure, but you don’t care. You hold on to him, wrap your arms tightly around him but he pushes you down, determined to watch your expression. You cling to his hips instead, the ones that keep pummeling into you, harshly, his cock ramming into your puffy and overstimulated pussy. He thinks the sight of your face, twisted in a mixture of pain and pleasure is the sharpest knife he has ever been cut open by.

Zoro staves off a cry of pleasure by diving in for a kiss, desperately sucking your tongue into his mouth. He kisses the corner of your mouth. From his mouth, he hears stupid promises but his mind can’t believe it even through the haze of lust. He tries to take them back but he whispers into your ear again, soft and sweet things he wouldn’t dare speak in the light of the sun. You know he’s only saying this because he is not thinking straight, because like you, he is consumed by this burning lust. You know when a new moon comes, when this has waxed and waned, that he would forget the words uttered in a moment of madness. 

He loves the way you feel, the way it’s so easy to kiss you. He loves the way your voice catches on his skin, slipping into the little cracks to stay forever. He hates it too. Hates how he thinks he’ll carry you always. Even in the light. Even in the dark. He thinks he should take it all back, the kisses, the words. He thinks this even buried to the hilt, your pussy fluttering around his length again. He thinks this even as he gasps and moans, cuming with you. 

His body shudders as he spills inside you. You feel it start to ooze out of you, but you ignore it, just like you ignore the sudden flush of your face. 

Zoro crumples over you, and covers you in kisses. Your hands are shaking as you seize his shoulders, trying to find the sense to speak about what just happened but he is gone the moment you grasp him. There are towels nearby, and he drapes one between your legs. He lowers himself over you, trapping your body between his arms. His mouth is still relentless, kissing your bruised lips over and over again. You see the moon caught in his earrings again, and you reach out for it.

Someone once told you, a dream was a wish you made on a star. Your fingers dance along his earrings. The gold blinks back at you–twinkling stars hanging from his ear. You wish, on all three, for the same dream. 

You wish that maybe when the new moon comes, the pull it had on you two would bring you together time and time again.

#fic request #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #zoro smut #zoro angst #zoro soft smut #Soft Smut ™ #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece soft smut #for the cummunity!

[monsterblogging]

So this post I reblogged has got me thinking about humanity loss as a trope and the way it's treated. And just to clear things up for anyone who might be confused, I'm talking about stories that involve some amount of physical transformation (with possibly some amount of mental transformation), not just "losing your humanity" in the moral sense. (Though the idea that compassion = human is itself incredibly flawed, but we're not getting into that right now.)

So like, there is media where portraying loss of humanity as a bad thing actually makes sense - specifically, where it's a metaphor for something that's actually bad. The first example that comes to mind is where turning people into robots or cyborgs is used as a metaphor for the dehumanization of laborers. Rich fucks in real life want to treat workers like machines, so it's kind of a natural step to write fiction where it's presented a bit more literally. Or there's stories like Resident Evil 4, where transformation is an allegory for religious radicalization, because the bummer truth is that people who've been radicalized are more often than not impossible to reason with and either want to make you one of them or kill you. When the major bad guys turn into giant monsters, it's an allegory for wielding corrupt power.

(And for those of you out there going, "but people can be deradicalized???", I am with you! And this is why I think a lot of these narratives need to lighten up on the "oh no once you hit Certain Stage of Change there's no going back!!!" stuff.)

But then there's like... the people who miss the metaphor or have very chauvinist views, and oop - there is no allegory now (or at least, not much of one), and we get stories that effectively inform us that becoming too Other means we're no longer deserving of compassion, respect, autonomy, or even life. Like, you can tell that you're dealing with the kind of person who just doesn't really believe in universal human rights, or in people exercising too much autonomy. And I think it's very natural to have an "oh, fuck you" kind of response to this kind of thing.

And then sometimes there is an allegory, and the author is targeting queer people, communists, foreigners, or anybody the establishment isn't really a fan of. Once you realize that the author is just bullshitting, I think it's only natural to think that there could be another side to this story.

And I think it's also fair to ask ourselves if transformation into Something Else could be an allegory for something that isn't actually bad. Maybe getting in tune with some aspect of nature triggers changes; like you grow gills and fins after hanging out in the water for so long. Maybe this upsets the sensibilities of the people back home, but quite frankly it's none of their business where you choose to spend your time and what you allow to happen to your body. Or maybe the cult leader turned you into their perfect weapon, and maybe that process was traumatic, but what happens when you regain your autonomy? Are the abilities you gained inherently bad, or does it come down to what you choose to do with them? Do you really deserve to die just because your body has a different shape now and there's no way to undo it?

And sometimes transformations brings on various forms of disability, or the experiences the characters go through are very similar to the experience of being disabled in some way, which can make them very relatable to some people. When you see something about yourself in these characters, it's only natural to want them treated as a person who deserves compassion and accommodation, rather than nothing more than a dangerous monster.

Add into this that nonhuman characters in general are constantly given characteristics associated with autism, ADHD, and even trauma. Factor in that the temptation of turning into a creature who isn't expected to act "human" (read: neurotypical) so you can be released from burdening expectations. Factor in the desire to be free from anything considered "human," period. And don't forget the whole otherkin/alterhuman thing. Then of course there's the thrill of the idea of experiencing a novel form, of seeing how it feels to move in a differently-shaped body and exploring what you can do with it. And the temptation of stimming with a tail. And also the fact that people's bodies and minds will change throughout their lives and that's fine, actually. Nobody owes it to you or anyone to be the same forever.

So yeah, works of fiction that depict "losing your humanity," as in changing your physical body and rewiring your brain in a way that people find strange as inherently bad and morally wrong are crap. Change is nature, and if somebody wants try out life as a dragon that should be none of anybody else's fucking business.

#transformation #humanity #losing humanity #media #tropes #monsters #monster