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onlymurphy · 3 days

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The Remedy

SPOILERS: Mild, Through Whole Cake Island

Ah yes, I'm torturing Sanji again. I'm nothing if not consistent.

You’ve known for years that Sanji struggles to deal with his past, but after beginning to date, it’s become startlingly apparent just how hard of a hold it all has on him. After a nightmare rouses him from sleep, you make it your mission to remind him that he is loved, needed, and entirely yours.

Sanji x fem!reader

Angst | Fluff

PG-13

TW: Mentions of child abuse, mentions of starvation, nightmares, implied self-harm.

Cross-posted on A03

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A younger you -a you not bold enough to become a pirate or travel the world- would have collapsed to the floor at the sight of Sanji quietly weeping in his sleep.

All you wanted was a drink of water. When you left your room, he’d been snoozing away, long arms splayed over you with legs dangling off the bed.

Now, he’s in a tiny ball, crying quietly in the darkness.

Does this happen every night? Does he sob the evenings away to himself while you sleep beside him?

Could you truly be so unaware of the terrors of your beloved that this has become how he feels in your bed?

You thought the nightmares stopped when the ‘waking up kicking and screaming’ stopped. It had gone on for months, Sanji flying up in bed at night with his hands tangled in his hair. He’d hyperventilate so hard he’d vomit. It was new, and it was a horror you had never before felt in your life. There was something in his eyes that you just couldn’t unlock when he got like that, something so violent that he couldn’t even process it himself.

It went on from the very first night he snuck into your bed, and it continued until you were finally at peace in Alabasta.

You thought the bit of pampering and softer bed in Alubarna had been the cure.

You thought he was finally getting good nights of sleep.

A younger you would have been crippled by the guilt of not being at his side when the terror began, but instead you muster yourself to approach your bed and reunite with the horror.

Sanji is curled into a ball, shaking and sweating while he sobs into his pillow. His arms grip his midsection so hard that his nails have pierced the skin of his sides. It’s almost like he’s in agony. There seems to be a deep-set pain in his stomach that’s crippling every muscle in his body.

Tears spring to your eyes in an instant. Sanji is your rock, your anchor. When you get worked up or out of hand, he’s always there to stroke your hair and soothe you back into ease. He keeps you centered. To see the center point of your life on such uneven seas is throwing you into a near panic.

You don’t want to frighten him into scratching himself or getting more riled up, so you take a deep breath and do what you can to steady your hand.

“Sanji?” You whisper, bringing your hand to him and cradling the back of his head. “Sanji, come back to me. I’m right here.”

He begins to hyperventilate. His hands grip his skin harder, blood beginning to trickle down his pale hips. Your tears are flowing in excess.

Who are if you can’t protect your boyfriend?

What do you bring to him if you can’t keep him safe?

You shake him ever so slightly. “Sanji, you’re hurting yourself. It’s me, you’re safe in our bed.”

He takes one last gasp, nails tearing down his hips in shock as he jolts up into a sitting position. Blood drips onto your bed sheets. Tears stain his face, his eyes gazing ahead, unblinking through the still open door of your room.

God, he looks like a terrified little boy waiting for the monster to crawl out from under the bed.

“My love?” You begin, trying to keep your voice gentle despite the hoarseness beginning to creep in from crying. “Sanji, it’s okay. You had a nightmare, it’s okay.”

He doesn’t look at you. Instead, he buries his face in his hands and lets out an almost silent sob. He shatters. He breaks right in two.

His body shakes, knees coming up to allow him to curl back into himself.

You rise from the floor then, placing yourself beside him on the bed. You can feel the heat radiating from his body without even touching him. He’s nearly feverish from his terror. The sight of him makes your chest go so tight you fear you’ll choke.

You lay a hand on his shoulder, and instantly he collapses into you. It’s like a dam breaks, horror and despair flowing from him freely now as he holds you against him. You’re a sliver relieved that your touch has seemed to break through the cage his nightmares put him in, but now the way his body is crushing yours is putting an unbearable weight on your soul.

You want to break alongside him so badly, but you can’t. You must be well enough to hold his pieces together.

You hold him to your chest as he cries, quietly hushing him a bit before speaking.

“Was it the rock again?”

He nods. A small whimper leaves his lips.

You do your best to never let yourself think too hard about Sanji’s past. You remember him as a little boy, all chubby cheeks and wild attitude. Only after a heated fight between Patty and himself that you overheard did you learn at just ten years old that your best friend wasn’t what he seemed. Carne had picked up the wrong fish at the market, and with no use for it, Patty had tried to throw it away. Sanji nearly exploded out of his skin, cursing and yanking the meat from his fellow chef’s hands. It got so out of control that Zeff had to lift Sanji from the ground and carry the screaming boy back to his room by force.

You were terrified. Zeff found you waiting in the restaurant later that night in tears, waiting to make sure Sanji was okay. The chef had sat beside you and softly explained to you how he and Sanji had met. It was gentle, the way something like that should be explained to a child.

You made sure to never waste a bite of food after that day. His past impacted you then, and it moves you still as you rock him softly in your arms.

You kiss the top of his head and let your fingers rise to stroke his cheek. He’s clammy now, cold sweat clinging to his skin.

“I’m not gonna let anything like that happen to you again” you promise him, your voice barely more than a breath. “I’ll die before anything like that happen to you again.”

He shakes his head against you. “I’ve started dreaming that you’re with me. You always die.”

Oh, your Sanji.

“Is that when you stopped waking up scared?” You wonder. “When you started dreaming I was with you?”

He nods. “You die while I’m holding you. I can’t save you, and I just lay there, and I hold you, and I can’t…”

He trails off, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You can feel your skin wet with hot tears.

That explains the way he was holding onto nothing so tightly that he wounded his own skin.

You reach up to shield his face as though you’re trying to keep the world from seeing his despair. “My Sanji, I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. I’m not gonna die, and neither are you.”

“You don’t know that. We’re pirates, you don’t know that.”

You’re thrown to hear this side of Sanji. If he’s anything, he’s sure fire in what he wants, who he is. He will find the All Blue. He will help Luffy get the One Piece. He will be the best cook in the seas.

Sanji rarely doesn’t know where he’s headed. To hear his uncertainty in your very survival is more than a little stomach-turning.

“You scratched yourself pretty bad” you tell him, trying to divert the conversation away from his morbid mindset. “Do you wanna go clean it up?”

He pulls away from you a bit, finally reaching his hand down to run his fingers over where he dug away his skin. He flinches at the contact. His long fingers come away bloodied.

“I should” he mumbles. “I uh, I think I ruined the sheets.”

There are some small dots of blood where he once laid, nothing a little vinegar won’t solve.

You smile. “Don’t worry about that. Up. We’re getting you cleaned up and getting you some fresh air.”

He rises to his feet beside you, holding your hand so firmly that you worry he’s going to hurt you. There’s always clinginess to him, the urge to touch or hold you whenever he can. It’s moment like this, though, that truly show you why. The man is starved for touch, for comfort, but you’re happy to provide whenever he reaches out.

“Get dressed” you urge, bringing his knuckles to your lips to kiss. “Don’t need anyone seeing what they didn’t ask for.”

He gives you what you can only describe as the corpse of a smile before beginning to gather random clothes from your bedroom floor.

You watch as he gets dressed, quite thankful that Nami and yourself are no longer sleeping in the same room.

You and Sanji had boarded the Going Merry as best friends, having been wreaking havoc and driving Zeff and your parents up a wall for the better part of ten years. Your father was a wealthy and high-ranking marine that was always hosting parties and eating expensive meals at Baratie. You tagged along, and at every meal there was always a little blond boy peeking out from the kitchen to catch a glimpse of you. It took months before Zeff -a good friend of your parents- shoved that little boy out the door and basically forced him to say hi.

You were enamored by his missing-a-front-tooth smile and chef’s jacket that didn’t fit his skinny little body quite right. It was lost on you at just nine years old, but something in the universe knew you would grow to fall in love him.

You spent years debating whether or not to reveal your true feelings for him. It took becoming a pirate and nearly losing him to the snowy terrain on Drum Island to realize your couldn’t live without him.

Your Going Merry roommate, Nami, hadn’t been thrilled when Sanji started crawling into bed with you late at night, but she eventually came up with a genius solution to split your room in half and let Usopp build a wall between you.

You’ll have to thank her later. You can’t imagine how embarrassed Sanji would be if Nami or Robin saw him break down, or worse if this were to happen to him in the boys’ room.

When he’s dressed, you follow him up to the deck, a cool wind blowing over the two of you the second you’re free of the ship. Nami has said that you’re heading toward some town to restock on food and get a few days of rest, but right now there isn’t a single sliver of land around you. It’s all just a vast stretch of ocean, the Grand Line bobbing the Merry about without a second thought.

You guide Sanji to take a seat in the chair Robin left behind from her earlier reading.

“I’ll be right up” you tell him. “Breathe some fresh air. Try to relax.”

He doesn’t speak, but does as he’s told. For such a large man, he looks tiny seated out in the darkness. He crosses his arms over his chest, bringing his knees up as he stares off into the distance. Yes, he’s awake, but he’s still gone from your reach. He’s somewhere in between your life together on the Merry, and the rock that nearly ripped his life away.

Your heart aches to leave him, but the marks on his hips have begun to bruise. It’s the least you can do to care for him.

You do your best to rummage through the storage quietly. Luffy is snoozing away in the crow’s nest where he’s supposed to be keeping watch, but you want to be careful not to wake anyone else. Sanji will retreat right back into bed and refuse to speak on the matter again if any other members of the crew catch a glimpse of this side of him.

When you return to the deck, you find him still staring out at sea, but he’s propped his head up on his knees. Tears stream down his face, eyes bloodshot, bags adorning his cheeks.

You kneel down beside him and set the first aid kit to the side. “Ji?”

He looks to you, but says nothing.

You don’t want to push him. It’s hard enough to get him out of bed when he’s like this, let alone out of your room. You’re just happy that you noticed his terror tonight instead of letting him rot in his nightmare.

A strange silence surrounds the two of you while you dab antiseptic at his wounds. He flinches away from the touch, but doesn’t make a sound as you work.

“There” you tell him once his hips have been bandaged. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

All you get from him is a nod. It kills you to see your happy, snarky boyfriend so beaten down. He’s exhausted - that much is clear. You’ve known for some time that he hasn’t been getting good sleep, but he’s always assured you that he’s fine. It looks like it’s beginning to grate on him too much to hide, however. His dark circles are large and obvious, and it looks like it’s been a few days since he’s shaved.

“I don’t need you to tell me about it” you assure him. “But I need to make sure you’re okay and you’re healthy. The rest of the crew is going to start noticing if you stop sleeping, Sanji.”

He unfurls his legs then, reaching for you and pulling you down into his lap. The little chair cries beneath the weight of you both, but Sanji doesn’t seem to care.

“I can’t protect you” he whispers, burying his face into your hair.

You take the opportunity to snuggle up against him. “What are you talking about? You protect me all the time, Ji. Your dreams are screwing with your head.”

He shakes his head, his face ruffling up your hair. “You were shot in Alabasta.”

Ah. There it is.

One thing Sanji isn’t good at is keeping his feelings in once they start to flow. The dam breaks, and everything comes forth.

“Sanji, I was shot in Alabasta because I decided to run ahead of everyone else. It was my fault, and my fault alone.”

That much is true. Sanji -although a little protective of you- knows that you can handle yourself. You’re skilled with a sword, and the boys on the ship have been helping you get better at hand-to-hand. Sanji never underestimates you, but that was your downfall in Alabasta when you got a little overprotective of him.

Sanji pretending to be shot over the transponder snail was an act, but you didn’t know then. The instant Robin let you and Vivi go, you’d burst into a dead sprint for the door, praying that Sanji would still be alive when you got there. You didn’t make it far. Crocodile put a bullet in your thigh.

“I shouldn’t have gotten you all riled up” he argues. “I didn’t know the rest of you were listening when I was talking to him. I didn’t mean to scare you, my darling. It’s my fault you tried to run, so it’s my fault he shot you.”

You nuzzle his exposed chest. It’s warm and comforting, smelling of cigarettes and your soap.

“Nothing could have stopped me from getting to you” you promise him, your voice slight. “I would’ve died to get to you.”

Sanji places a small kiss on the top of your head. “I don’t want you to die for me. I’m not worth your life.”

“You’re worth a thousand of my lives to me.”

A comfortable silence envelopes the two of you, nothing to be heard but the sound of the ocean waves licking the side of the ship. Sanji often has his moments where he questions his worth in various areas of life. Whether he’s fretting over something as simple as the taste of a dish, or carrying the weight of his own existence, he sees no value in himself. It’s bothered you for almost a decade now, but it’s something he simply doesn’t notice. It’s as if placing no value on his own life is a normal thing to him, like he’s been doing it for so long that he doesn’t understand how wrong it is. It’s a delicate subject to broach, but you’re chipping away at it little by little.

Sanji distracts you then, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. He has returned to a normal temperature, no longer clammy and trembling against you. He seems to have settled despite your weight atop him in in the uncomfortable chair. He strokes your back slowly, fingers under your shirt to make featherlight contact with your skin.

A while goes by before he speaks again.

“I don’t always dream that you die” he whispers, almost like a confession.

You take his hand in yours. “What do you dream of those times?”

He hesitates, sighing into your hair.

“That you’re tortured.”

“Hm?”

His grip on you tightens drastically. “It started after you got shot. I dream that I’m…that we’re…uh, I dream that we’re in Germa.”

Your stomach ties so hard into a knot that you fear you’ll vomit.

“Germa?” You question. “With the Vinsmokes?”

He nods against you. “I dream that he tortures us, and I can’t get to you.”

He. His father.

It took years before Sanji opened up to you about anything that happened to him before he met Zeff, and when the information did come, it came in tiny bits at a time. He could never talk about it for too long without panicking or growing sad, so you never asked questions. The day he told you about the basement, the cage, the mask, he’d ended up vomiting off the dock of Baratie in a panic. That was the first night you ever slept in his bed. You’d lied your way off your parents’ ship and snuck past Zeff’s bedroom to hold Sanji against you. He wept in your arms until the sun rose.

You bring Sanji’s hand to your lips, kissing the burn scars and callouses on his gifted fingers. “Why didn’t you tell me about that?” You breathe. “Sanji, that’s an awful thing to deal with on your own.”

He doesn’t speak right away. You content yourself with running your lips along his fingers, occasionally taking the tip of one into your lips to kiss upon it.

“I don’t wanna become a burden to you” he says finally, his voice barely more than a breath. “I don’t want every morning to start with my whining. You don’t deserve that.”

“If it’s a part of loving you, then I want it.”

He sits up a bit then, grabbing you beneath your knees and spinning you until you’re able to straddle his lap.

“I love you” he tells you simply, cradling your cheek in his hand. “I don’t want you to stop loving me because I have so much weight.”

You turn your head to kiss his palm. “Let me help you carry it.”

He pulls your lips together without another word. It’s been months since that first kiss, and you still haven’t gotten over the fact that you can kiss him whenever you’d like. It’s almost embarrassing how giddy the thought still gets you.

Your first kiss wasn’t exactly romantic. Luffy, Sanji, and yourself had been tasked with getting Nami to Dr. Kureha at her home on Drum Island. You had let the boys go ahead of you with Nami so you could put distance between them and the animals hunting your party, but by the time you’d reached the top of the mountain on your own. All three of them were laid out bloody in the snow.

Barely conscious, shaking and suffering, Sanji had called your name and reached out for you. You rushed to him, cradling him, begging to know what could have possibly happened to them in the time you’d been separated.

He didn’t hear a word you’d said. He ignored you as you begged him not to leave you. Instead, he swore up and down he was going to die. He apologized, and in the midst of the terror and tears, he’d mustered the strength to kiss you just as the two doctors arrived to the bloody scene.

You didn’t leave Sanji’s side for days. You waited for him, not sleeping, not eating. Chopper threatened to force feed you. Kureha called you an idiot in love.

It had all been worth it when you lifted your head from Sanji’s blanket to find him looking at you.

You leaned into Sanji’s kiss, letting yourself melt against his bare chest. It’s a dream, kissing the boy you’d always loved under a clear night sky. You could stay like this forever, cool wind blowing on you, waves singing, Sanji’s tongue in your mouth.

“Ew!”

The word shatters the energy you and Sanji have created. Both your heads snap around to look at your captain who’s standing with a finger jabbed in your direction.

“He needs sleep!” Luffy hisses, wagging the finger at you. “He needs to be able to cook tomorrow, not suck on your mouth.”

You bury your face into Sanji’s chest. He laughs, jostling you a bit from where you hide.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to embarrass a lady, moron?” Sanji snaps at Luffy. “You couldn’t have just pretended you didn’t see us?”

Luffy shakes his head, pursing his lips and looking off into the night. “If you let me grab a snack from the kitchen before I go to bed, I might be able to overlook it.”

You can’t help but laugh into Sanji’s skin. You can’t see him from your place, but you just know his gaze is seething into Luffy.

“No, moron!” Your boyfriend practically snarls. “Go to bed! You didn’t even do your job keeping watch.”

Luffy eyes you, pushing out his bottom lip into a pout. “Sanji’s being mean. He wants me to starve.”

You perch your chin on Sanji’s chest, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Ji, he asked so nice.”

You know you shouldn’t be coddling Luffy, but you’ll do damn near anything to get him back to bed faster. You’re itching to resume your previous make out session.

Sanji sighs before giving you a soft kiss on the forehead. This boy just can’t resist a thing about you.

“Fine” he grumbles. “One thing, Luffy.”

“Two.”

“Luffy, one thing.”

“I’m gonna tell Zoro that-“

“Fine. Two.”

Your captain flutters off without another word, vanishing into the galley with a rather loud slam of the door behind him.

You pull away to look up at Sanji.

“Think he’s only gonna eat two things?” You wonder.

He shakes his head. “I think we’re gonna have to dock so I can go shopping tomorrow.”

The two of you laugh together as your lips reconnect. It’s euphoric to be with someone you can laugh with and comfort and kiss all in one evening. You’re convinced it’s meant to be like this, meant to be the two of you together.

He pulls away from you just a bit, running a hand through your hair.

“How about this?” He suggests, twirling a piece of your hair into his fingers. “How about we tell the rest of the crew that we’ll give them the money to buy whatever they want if they go do the shopping, and we spend a day in bed?”

The thought immediately makes your skin burn. You love almost everything about your life on the Merry, except of course for the lack of privacy. You can barely ever get a kiss in before someone is sending a chorus of “ew” or “get a room” your way. It’s hard enough to see your boyfriend everyday, shirtless and delectable, sweaty as he works on the deck or focused in the kitchen. You find yourself rather ravenous at times, staring without shame at the way his body moves when he does damn near anything. Living in such close quarters with others, you can’t just have him the way you’d like in those moments.

“That sounds perfect” you purr. “How are you gonna make sure they stay out all day?”

He purses his lips, looking up into the sky as he considers your words.

“Tell Zoro I need something from a shop that doesn’t exist so everyone wastes the day looking for him?”

He’ll never pass up the chance to mock the swordsman, even when the man isn’t around.

“I don’t care how you do it” you inform him with a laugh, placing your hand on his chest so you can feel his heartbeat. “I miss you. I need you.”

He shakes a bit, biting his bottom lip and looking away from you. Your heart practically melts through your ribs. Even though you’ve been together eight months, and it’s been quite some time since your first intimate evening, he still gets a mad and inescapable blush in his cheeks at even the thought of making love. It endears you.

Your first night together, you weren’t sure what to expect. You’d been best friends for years, and even though you’d always had a crush on him, having sex with him hadn’t been something that crossed your mind often. Sure, you’d thought about it a few times as you aged, but you’d always worried he could somehow magically read your mind whenever you let it wander there.

In the summer, you’d imagined running your hands down that beautiful chest as the two of you swam at the dock, but panicked that he could suddenly feel your thoughts.

When you two danced at your birthday party and your mind conjured the image of his naked body on yours, you’d scampered away at the fear that he was watching the two of you make love in your mind.

The same nerves appeared to you again on your first night together. It had been perfect, a quiet night in your private little room in Alabasta. He’d spent the evening massaging the aching muscles around your wound, and sometime into the night those skilled fingers had started to wander. Neither of you had ever been with anyone else, waiting patiently for the other to sweep you away most of your lives. A million emotions kept hitting you in waves with every move the two of you made.

He removed your shirt. You wanted to weep with the intensity of finally having him in this way.

You unbuckled his belt. You wanted to hide your face to keep him from seeing your nerves.

But, something was different about it then. When you were drowning in your own hidden emotions, Sanji was putting on a show of his own to you.

He keened into you with every touch. He whimpered in your ear when you so much as said his name. He spoke to you, didn’t let a single thing that struck his mind go unsaid.

“Beautiful darling.”

“Angel.”

“Perfect for me.”

Seeing this side of him wasn’t new, but it was oh so needed. When the two of you finally came together with nothing between you but years of tangled and complicated feelings, you let your emotions free. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but you smiled as his name ripped off your lips in a cry you never knew you could make.

He blushed like a mad man the entire time, just as he is now. The look takes you back, makes you want to run back to that bed in the desert and relive it again.

You run a hand through his hair. “Ji, you okay? Earlier…”

“I’m just fine” he promises you. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m keeping you up.”

“Then let’s get to bed” you urge him. “I’m pampering you tomorrow, so you’re sleeping in. No cooking breakfast for you.”

He gives you a quick kiss before speaking against your lips. “I like cooking breakfast, my love.”

You return the kiss. “Bed. Now.”

“You know I’d never say no to that, darling.”

There’s the Sanji you’re used to - flirtatious, goofy, a little bit pushy.

The two of you rise from the crappy lawn chair, making your way back down into your room and into bed. It feels euphoric to get out of the cold and tangle your body with Sanji’s. It doesn’t matter to you if Luffy bursts into your room in the morning and makes disgusted faces at the two of you. You don’t care if Zoro is sent to wake you and overreacts to your affections. If you’re holding Sanji, you’ll know if a nightmare begins to take hold of him. You’ll be there. You’ll protect him.

“Love?”

You tilt your head back to look at the man wrapped up in your arms. “Hm?”

He kisses your bare shoulder. The gesture is soft, personal, something so small that only he’ll ever do to you again.

“Please stay with me” he whispers on your skin. “Don’t leave.”

He’s opening up again in the privacy of your room. His voice is so soft, so careful.

You shake your head. “I’m gonna hold you all night, babe.”

He’s quiet for a moment. You can hear the waves slamming on the ship, drowning out the sound of Sanji’s breathe becoming a bit shaky.

“No” he breathes. “I meant if I get worse. If I ever see them again…”

“I’ll protect you” you interrupt. “If he ever even thinks about coming near you, I’ll protect you.”

He says nothing else. Instead, he buries his face into your chest and settles against you. His grip may be a little too tight, and the room may be a little two warm with your two bodies tangled together, but you’ll manage.

You have to keep him safe.

A ray of morning sun bursting across your eyes wakes you in the morning. You groan, peeking open an eye.

Nami stands at the top of the steps, hands raised defensively in the air.

“Sorry” she hisses upon seeing your embrace with Sanji. “Didn’t mean to creep.”

You hush her silently before looking down to Sanji. You didn’t feel him stir a single time once the two of you came back to bed. He slept peacefully, snoring away with his hands lazily gripping at your skin. He looks precious. You almost can’t bear to wake him.

“Sanji” you whisper, pulling your arms away from him a bit. “I’m gonna get up and make you some breakfast.”

He groans, grabbing you as you try to roll away. “You promised you’d stay with me.”

He’s still half asleep. Maybe he’s processing where he really is, but maybe he’s still wandering with you in a dream. Maybe, in his mind, you’re back in the bed in Alabasta, sipping wine with your clothes off and laughing the night away. Maybe you’re snuggled together on a beach somewhere. Maybe you’re living years from now, the two of you trying to cling to the last moments of sleep before your children come to wake you.

Whatever the dream he’s having, it beats the one he had last night.

He settles back against you, so you give Nami a shake of your head.

“He had a rough night” you tell her quietly. “I’m gonna let him sleep.”

She smiles. If anyone on the crew has come to notice Sanji’s condition over the last few weeks, it would be Nami. You have no doubt that there has been a twinge of worry in her mind.

“I’ll let everyone else know he’s not feeling well” she tells you. “They’ll leave you guys alone.”

You quietly thank her and watch as she leaves the room, gently shutting your door behind her.

The instant the door shuts, Sanji rolls his head over, baby blues staring up at you.

“Sanji!”

“Did Nami just say she was gonna tell everyone to leave us alone?”

You nod. “You should go back to sleep. You have time.”

He gives a melodramatic frown. “But they’re gonna leave us alone.”

This man is relentless. You’re sure that if the two of you had a guaranteed level of privacy, he’d be absolutely insatiable.

“Will you get a little more sleep after?” You wonder, pursing your lips to match his level of sass.

“My love, you could ask me to swim back to the East Blue in my underwear and bring you back an island after sex, and I would do it.”

The thing is, he’s telling the truth.

You push his bangs out of his eyes, giving you a full view of his beautiful face before you lean in for a kiss.

#sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #one piece #sanji x reader #angst #fluff

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keepthedelta · 19 hours

Note

it's so hilarious that even with everything going on with lewis and mercedes chubby faced teenager max was still nicos worst nightmare 💀

respectfully, i think you are very wrong. when people talk about max being nico's worst nightmare they use that interview of nico immediately after abu dhabi 16, which was literally the most stressful moment of nico's life.

it was the closest he had ever been to a world championship, lewis (and all of the emotion attached to him) was trying to back him into max and seb (an act that he SPECIFICALLY promised not to do) and that would have been stressful enough given the circumstances, but when the driver in question is someone who was as aggressive a driver as max, with a history of crashing and crashing others out (both as a result of hard racing and deliberately when he felt wronged by another driver) of course that makes the situation more stressful. the weight of a championship is a lot. it's so much that when max won, he collapsed over a tyre and cried. seb cried. lewis cried. mika cried. jenson cried. it's an insane amount of pressure, and nico's win was particularly stressful. his relief in the aftermath is not a result of "trauma" it's the relief of a horribly stressful situation which has come at the end of a horribly stressful year finally being over. max is a part of it, but it's not really about him.

and i do want to point out that nico has generally spoken positively of max since the beginning. he was one of the few drivers that defended max getting a seat on the grid. he gave max lifts to races with some of the other drivers on air rosberg. he teased max and got danny ric to make him do a shoey on the podium in malaysia. since leaving racing, he's occasionally been critical of max's character (sometimes unfairly) but has always spoken well of max's driving. he literally calls it art.

i get that the fandom view of nico is as a completely unhinged guy screaming crying throwing up over lewis and max, but i think that view is very detached from the reality of the situation 🤷🏿‍♀️

#asks #anon #nico rosberg

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antoncyng · 1 day

Text

౨ৎ. SUFFERED - h.sh

synopsis - dreaming about his presence started to hurt again, so it was time to finally watch the VHS.

genre / warning(s) - angst, mentions of death, somewhat based off of 20th century girl, vhs tape is different tho, flashbacks based in 1999

word count - 1.0k (first fic to hit 1k???)

author’s note - this fic is for @cupidhoons because this woman wanted her heartbroken so what better way than to make it about seunghan :33 love u liz! want to read m0re . . ? cl1ck here !

24 YEARS.

24 years was the length you’ve had to suffer without the love of your life by your side.

waking up from this dream was a nightmare, the more you tried to reach out and save him, the farther you would get. it was so hard to accept the fact he was gone, no matter how long it’s been.

the words spilling out of his bestfriend’s mouth still and always will break your heart, deny deny deny was all your mind could comprehend.

7.18.00 6:45 PM

“what do you mean? seunghan isn’t dead.. he’s on a family trip!” all the excuses you could think of spewed out of your mouth with tears running down your face.

“no.. no yn. he isn’t on a family trip, he never went on a family trip. just accept it, he isn’t with us anymore, how would it make sense to go on a family trip if his family came home? he died yn, he died after his surgery. it was guaranteed he would’t live for more than a month, so he did it himself. he left this for you.” sohee did the best he could keeping himself together as well, not wanting to make your situation worse.

he kept quiet and gave you a VHS tape, only to walk away soon after, it looked like he wanted to say something to you(?).

HOW could this be? it only felt like a few weeks ago that seunghan was by your side, holding your hand as you two walked along the beach together, laughing the night away together as the world blurred around the two of you. when you were together, everything just felt right.

now, it feels like nothing would feel right ever again.

6.11.24 4:37 AM

it felt so real. sweat coated your forehead and parts of your body, your breathing grew heavy by the minute, your eyes shot open with water growing in them.

you tried so so hard to reach out for seunghan, but it just looked like the more you stepped closer to him, the further he would walk away. your fingertips touched, and his body slowly started to fade away. all you could do was cry, trying to scream but nothing would come out as you watched seunghan step further into the distance with an emotional smile on his lips, you swore he had a tear running down his face. why did it feel so real?

it hurt, it hurt like someone had just ripped your heart out of your chest and walked away so emotionless. what was so scary or hard that he couldn’t tell you?

you got out of bed, walking towards your desk and opened the drawer, pulling out the VHS tape sohee gave you 24 years ago, you never pulled yourself enough to throw it away. slipping it into the player, the video started to play.

sitting back in your chair, you didn’t know what to expect. a song started playing, it rang in your ears like a shooting star of nostalgia.

“are you alright? how are you doing these days? are you crying again..”

you heard his singing voice call out to you, it brought you to tears.

“because i’m not there? we used to chat a lot, now i don’t see your fine face..”

he appeared on the screen, guitar in his hands as his face focused on the strings, the tears slipped out of your eyes. he’s still the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen, the most beautiful person you’ll ever meet.

the song stopped. a few clips of the beach you two always walked on together showed, there were clips of the places you loved to bring him to. you were shown clips of yourself falling asleep in an empty classroom, seunghan’s voice in the back.

“look at this girl, she told me she would stay behind during lunch to study..”

more clips were shown, memories were flooding your mind. then it cut to a scene on the beach, it seemed like the phone was set up.

and there he was again, your beautiful boy. just the sight of him on the old tv had your heart melting, he was just so pretty.

“hi yn. if you’re seeing this, you must be very angry with me.” he started off, chuckling dryly. “i recorded this before i went to the u.s. for my surgery, and you must already know the result. i’m sorry i can’t tell you, i would if i really could, but everything is too much for the both of us and i figured it would be better for your life in the future to figure out like this.”

he read off of a piece of paper like a script, clearing his throat as he was already getting emotional just from reading the next words. tears were already flowing out of your eyes, but you couldn’t stop watching the tape.

“i know living without each other is hard after sticking together for so long, i want you to know i truly love you so much, but there’s a reason that i could not tell you about the guaranteed result of my surgery. i don’t think i’ll tell you that now, maybe in another century?” he dryly laughs again, before looking back at the sunset behind him.

“its nice seeing this view again before i leave, i wish i could see it with you. you’re busy a lot but i understand that, i just wish i could spend just a few more hours with you.” his voice makes it obvious he’s starting to tear up, before turning back to the camera with teary eyes like he’s about to end the video.

“but don’t worry too much, i’ll make a pretty sunset and sunrise for you so you don’t have to suffer too much without me, how does that sound? i hope you’re saying good behind this screen..” he tries to cheer himself up with a smile, distracting you from the tears rolling down his face.

“i love you so much, i’ll see you again soon. don’t suffer too much, okay?” he says, waving with his sweet smile before the video ends and the old tv audio starts buzzing again.

but what seunghan will always know, is how much you already suffered without his presence.

🤍. ————————————

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL | antoncyng 061624

thank u for reading !! i hope u didn’t get too sad :pp ending is kinda bad because i’m bad at ending stories but whatever ><

perm taglist - @lcvclywon @jlheon @jwsdoll @ohmydollie @cupidhoons @junislqve @hyeinism @copyhanni @onlyjjong @seoktized (?)

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joost-klein-imagines · 2 days

Note

I’m in love with the idea of reader having their own fanbase, maybe they’re also a musician or a YouTuber etc and when Joost and reader get together their fanbases are like “omg we’re siblings now!!”

I fell in love with your idea too! I was busy so it took me a while, but I managed to write something. It's not a typical fanfic, I experimented with a form this time but I hope you'll like it!

A reader is a musician youtuber with a small, but very faithful fanbase. You can read more under the cut.

yourusername: HI!!! I HOPE YOU LIKE MY COVER OF “EUROPAPA”, THIS SONG DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER!!!

Comments:

user1: I absolutely adore this, keep your hard work! ❤️

user2: wtf is this shit???!!!

user3: such a shame no original song this time, but this slaps too! :)

joostklein: MY FRIENDS BROUGHT ME HERE, THANKS FOR SHARING EUROPAPA LOVE! 💙

You looked briefly through the comments again. Most of them were positive, some of them were hateful, nothing new. But one of them brought your attention the most. It was the comment of Joost himself, a guy who you covered. You couldn’t believe that he noticed your video. You had just made a cover of this song because you had found it cool and had thought that Joost’s disqualification had been unfair and that his song deserved to be performed at the Eurovision grand final. You wondered how to reply for a while, finally writing just two words: “Thanks, king! :D”

Ugh, I’m so pathetic, you thought as you buried your face in your hands.

yourusername: HI! HERE’S MY NEW SONG, I HOPE IT’LL BE A SUMMER HIT! :)

Comments:

user3: that’s what I’m talking about, pls give us more songs like that!!!

joostklein: such a bop! 🤓

user4: omg I’m gonna listen to it for a whole summer ☀️

user2: another shitty song

user5: yea, they should delete their channel

That time you put a video with your original song on youtube. And Joost commented on it again! You thought that “Europapa” cover was just an exception because it was a cover of his song, but he actually followed your work. That moment even hate comments didn’t bother you that much. Your heart really raced up when you checked your inbox on instagram. You found a direct message from Joost there asking you for a collaboration.

You politely replied that you agree, trying not to sound overly excited. You promised Joost to check out your schedule and come to the Netherlands in free time.

[A TikTok video of you and Joost singing “Europapa” together.]

yourusername: FINALLY MET THE KING! 👑

Comments:

user4: attention! attention! they sing europapa together!

user1: i’m gonna cry, y/n totally deserved to meet him! 😭

user3: but what does it mean? collab? 🤔

user6: COLLAB! COLLAB! COLLAB!

user7: MANIFESTING 🕯️🕯️🕯️

user5: pfft, attention seeker

yourusername: A NEW SONG WITH JOOST 💙STREAM NOW!

Comments:

user7: I can’t believe that two of my favorite artists made a song together 😭thank you so much!!! 💞💞💞

user3: pretty good!

user8: good jobs guys! i love you so much!!! 💕

user2: damn, does Joost really fall down so low that he collabs with them???

user6: if you don’t like it, just don’t listen to it 🙄imo it’s a bop, I hope they’ll make more songs together in the future! 🤞

[A picture of you and Joost on instagram. Joost poses in a funny way while you’re taking a pic of him with a polaroid camera.]

yourusername: LOVE OF MY LIFE 💙

Comments:

user4: screaming, crying, throwing up, does it mean they’re together??? 🥺

user9: yea, I guess so, Joost confirmed this on his insta too

user1: joost nation x y/n nation unite! we’re the siblings now!

user7: they’re so cute together, I can’t!!! 🥺

user5: I’m so sorry for him, he deserves someone better…

user2: yea, for example me!

[user5 blocked]

[user2 blocked]

user8: they’re my favorite couple now! and yeah, we’re all siblings now!

user6: good luck guys! 🍀don’t let the haters bring you down!

#joost #joost klein #joost x reader #reply #awesome nonnies #my writing #rpf

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uhohdad · 13 hours

Note

Can’t wait until the aftermath to come out!! By any chance can you give more headcanons on König and reader?? 👀👀

well duh darling i’ve only been waaaaaiting for y’all to ask

‼️ ⚠️ MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE KONIG X READER HUNGER GAMES AU BELOW⚠️ ‼️

• Konig hated the whiskey. hated the taste, hated the smell, hated the way it made his brain foggy. he only drank it on the train bc he thought it would make Reader think he’s cool 😭

• another reason konig didn’t want to go on the balcony is because he’s afraid of heights. he only did it to hang out with Reader

• seeing Reader in a jacket in his size ahbsbxhahhzxb he was so nervous to offer the jacket to her and seeing her drown in it was making him feel some type of way. you’re so small.

• in addition to watching her sleep the night before the games, he also stayed up late on the balcony to watch Reader sleep. felt like a straight creep he did.

• Konig always sits so far away from Reader because he’s terrified of making her uncomfortable, especially after getting turned on when her leg was on his. Also why he was so fucking baffled when Reader had her leg pressed to his on the train. He so badly wanted it to happen again but he didn’t want to push it. And it really speaks to the true elation he felt it when she was still alive at the end it literally brought him to a sprint to pull her in a hug that was tighter than it should have been.

• Konig’s not one to jump to violence, especially after the incident from his past - but when One called Reader a dog he had his fists clenched fs You’re his weak spot dude he’s always ready to throw hands for you. He feels like it’s his duty, especially since he feels the need to repay her for standing up for him. It really shows in (aside from literally killing for her) when he spoke out of turn to Price - something he would never do if it wasn’t concerning Reader. He really gagged the whole dinner table.

• Konig is especially awkward with Price. and vice versa. They don’t really ‘get’ each other. Konig still respects him and his opinion of him, though. He’s much closer with Ruby.

• god he is just so. enamored with Reader. he is just so happy that they have good banter. he just thinks everything she says is the most charming thing ever.

• I don’t think I can stress enough just how jealous our boy was when Titan was flirting with Reader. Nauseous. He had a whole ‘that’s so raven’ day-mare about you and Titan. The thought of him laying his hands on you. And knowing he had just upset you made him believe he just pushed you right into Titan’s arms. So relieved when you started talking shit on him.

• aside from being devastated that she was upset with him about considering allying with the careers, watching reader handle weapons did something to him.

• He feels so lost when you’re upset, and he has a tendency to blame himself and not the whole ‘being sent to your death thing’

• During Konig’s interview, he was sure Reader knew he had a crush on her. He thought the jig was up.

• I almost made Pluck have a full on moment after the interview, the night before the games - like throwing chairs, breaking glasses, and destroying the suite, but it didn’t end up making the final cut it just didn’t seem to flow with the story.

• It took hours for Konig to work up the courage to go to Reader’s room the night before the games - and he still chickened out.

• Konig was just as haunted if not more by Eleven. He could feel his neck snap.

• I’m screaming, crying, throwing up that I can’t give y’all more games fun facts since I don’t wanna spoil The Aftermath

• y’all ain’t gonna like this one but the TRUTH? Konig was sneaking mad looks at Reader at the waterfall when she wasn’t looking. felt like such a creep.

• felt like the luckiest man alive getting to carry her through the desert. what a simp.

• Konig is the love that cannot be reasoned with. Reader is the hate that cannot be reasoned with.

• Konig sacrificed himself because he couldn’t stand the thought of her not living, period. He truly believed she deserved to live more than him. Reader sacrificed herself partially because that was always the plan - but her motivation in regard to Konig was because she didn’t want to live without him. Her motivations were selfish while his were selfless.

• Reader’s spite was her downfall after all. Price warned her not to let it get the best of her and she ended up taking her own life because of it.

‘We’ll see who wakes up tomorrow, Konig.’

more TGWCM fun facts :)

#idk if these are technically head canons #more like #fun facts #i kind of assumed you meant about the HG au also #so if i goofed i apologize unfortunately i’m a moron #love ya babe thanks for asking <3 💕💓💗🩷💞💓#uhohask #tgwcm #konig #konig cod #könig cod #könig #call of duty #cod #x reader #konig call of duty #könig call of duty

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miratastic · 3 days

Note

I just read a random hcs ask you answered and I've never heard of wound fucking before but I'm curious????

bloodlust

pairing; feyd x gn!reader

wc; 1.1k

tw; graphic descriptions of gore (wound fucking, specifically finger fucking a wound) freaky icky messed up feyd (what else are we expecting), slight non-con, classical conditioning (i.e a pavlovian response), lwk praise kink, brief thigh riding intermission, reader passes out at the end

authors note; i’m so sorry this took so long ! i got a wee bit carried away with it.. this was supposed to be a blurb not a fully fledged oneshot 🙏 not proof read we die like feyd. mid ass ending because i don’t know how to end fics properly. we are also going to ignore how i keep changing tenses (it is a problem and it needs to be fixed)

okay so the way i see it is that feyd is, for lack of better words, a horny freak. he gets turned on basically by anything, and when it comes to you? there’s literally nothing that could stop him from getting hard.

now we all know feyd likes pain, likes inflicting it and likes receiving it. he loves blood, likes to get messy and dirty. he’s fascinated by your body, by how different it is to his. your blood in particular really gets him going because of how red and sharp it is compared to his shiny black blood. the contrast is so.. shocking and different. so arousing.

he’s always fantasised about hurting you, about you being hurt and coming to him, just for him to take advantage of you. one day it happens.

you had just been sparing in feyd’s personal training room, casually practising with a blade. you’re so caught up with your thoughts that you don’t even notice feyd slipping in through the doors. he stands there and watches you, watching the sweat drip down your neck, the labourous puffs coming from your pretty mouth. he comes up behind you, as silent as a leopard, leering at your ass. you’re attempting to throw the knife in the air and catch it before the simulation in front of you gets a hit in.

“boo,” feyd hisses.

you startle in shock, twisting around before you remember you had just tossed the knife in the air. it comes down with a shlick, and you feel the incision in your arm bloom with blood. the knife clatters on the cool grey floor.

“what the fuck, feyd!” you cry out, other hand attempting to hold the wound closed.

the instant the scent of your blood filled the room, feyd knew he was done for. his nose flared, taking in deep, greedy inhales of metallic air. he groans, eyes fluttering shut.

“sorry, pretty. didn’t mean to scare you.”

he doesn’t sound very sorry to you. he stalks towards you, gaze zeroed in on your trembling arm, ears focused on the pitter patter of your blood dripping onto the training mats.

“how many times do i have to tell you not to sneak up on me?” you glare at him, ignoring the pulse in your limb.

feyd takes hold of your arm, slowly caressing the slippery skin, rubbing the blood deeper into you. it stains his fingers and he thinks of bottling the viscous liquid and pouring it over his cock.

his blunt nails drag up towards the gaping wound and you stare at him in confusion. usually he is incredibly overprotective and overbearing, wanting to send you to the best medics in giedi prime for the most mundane and superficial injuries. you can see the way his pupils have blown thrice their size, inky black pools that glisten with pure, unadulterated want.

he traces the rim of the cut, gently, as if petting a frightened animal. “feyd.. what’re you doing?” you whisper out cautiously. he was a wild card and there was no telling what he’d do.

feyd thinks that you’ll need stitches if you don’t want to scar too badly. he promises himself he’ll stitch you up himself as soon as he’s had his fun.

he says nothing, glances up at your narrowed eyes and plunges a thick finger into the wound.

“feyd!” you cry out, arm shaking in his strong hold. the intrusion is painful, it hurts. your nerve endings are screaming and synapses are firing, leaving you writhing. your eyes tear up and your teeth tear into your bottom lip. “stop! what’s wrong with you?!”

he doesn’t stop. he looks at you again, the corner of his pointed mouth twitching upwards at your disheveled state. feyd holds eye contact with you as he pushes his middle finger the tiniest bit deeper.

some weird, perverted feeling falls over you. he inches his finger out so that its tip barely grazes the exposed derma, and pushes it back in. over and over. in and out.

your knees feel weak, your head is buzzing. you’re still leaking onto the floor, a small puddle of blood spilling outwards from under feyd and yours’ boots. the blood loss has made you compliant. you have no strength to stop him and you can tell it fills him with absolute glee.

feyd knows how to press his fingers into the cut without causing too much damage. he’s trying to be gentle but this is something he’s been imagining for ages. his cock is hard against your lower body and is straining against the confines of his pants. he wants to take it out and fuck himself into your wound. wants to see it gape and stretch itself farther to accomodate him the same way your pretty holes do when he’s playing with you. he wants his cock drenched in your iron. his ring finger nudges against his middle, making you scream and shake harder as the cut is forced to take something wider.

“such a pretty doll. knew you’d take me like this. so perfect aren’t you? always knew you could take it.”

his words seem to create some sort of pavlov effect. these are things he says to you when he’s balls deep, when his hands are bruising your hips and wrapped around your throat. when he’s filling you with his sticky black cum, marking you for all to see. despite the pain and the brutality of the situation, despite you not wanting it, you feel yourself becoming wet. feel the way the slick of your heat rubs deliciously against the soft fabric of your underwear. you wish for something hard, something harsh and unforgiving to grind down on. your eyes roll back and your mouth pops open and drool begins to spill over. your legs press together at the next thrust of feyd’s fingers. you feel delirious. you feel euphoric.

he sees the switch immediately. sees how your eyes have completely glazed over, the way instead of crying out in pain, little sighs and moans of pleasure are leaving your raw lips. he knows you’re not there anymore.

“there’s my pet. knew you’d come to me eventually. always do don’t you? such a perfect pet f’me. gonna take care of you, okay sweetheart? makin’ me feel so good.” feyd words are forced out of mouth, slurred and gruff at the end. he feels feverish and high and intoxicated.

he slots a muscled thigh between your legs, letting you hump it like a pathetic little thing. you rub against his bulge every time he pushes himself into you.

feyd fucks your wound until you’re crying out into his chest and on the brink of passing out. the material of his training wear is drenched in your drool and tears, and your blood is everywhere. feyd cums in his pants when he feels you go limp against him, crumbling into his side.

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sh1gglypuff · 1 day

Text

Why Do You Cry?

A short Kenma Kozume x Reader dedicated to every person with a strained relationship with their father for this Father’s Day

Caution, under cut: Depictions of strained relationship with father, depictions of guilt, depictions of trauma

˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚

“Happy Father’s Day to my best friend”

“Happy Father’s Day to the best dad in the world”

You held your phone tightly in your hand as you scrolled through your friends instagram stories. Why? Why did this day have to exist? You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream and cry and throw your phone across the room.

Kenma was out with his father today, having a lunch with just him. That made you feel even worse. You loved your boyfriend with everything in your heart, you were forever grateful that he had good relationships with both of his parents. You only wanted to see him be cared for. That didn’t stop you from being jealous.

You laid yourself further into the couch, pulling the blanket tighter to your body. You close your eyes and imagined getting a hug. A long and warm hug.

A tear slipped from the corner of your eye. You wanted nothing more than to have had grown up with a dad. You have a father, but not a dad. You wished that you had had that father figure in your life that wiped your tears, that supported you, that didn’t want you to be different, that loved you unconditionally. You closed your eyes tightly.

You open your eyes as you hear the door begin to open.

“I’m home!” Kenma announces. He sees you lying on the couch. You pull the blanket up over your eyes quickly. He crouched next to you, his face inches from yours with the blanket acting as a barrier. “Did you call your dad?” he asks, moving to pull the blanket down to see your face. Your grip remains tight as you shake your head.

Kenma understands, of course he understands. He knows you don’t have a relationship with your dad. He knows this day is hard. “Hey…” he starts. He goes to pull the blanket down and you let him. Your eyes are filled with tears, casting a glass over your eyes as he stares. “Baby…”

You cry, you cry as Kenma pulls you into his chest and strokes your hair. You felt guilty. You felt guilty for not calling your dad. You felt guilty for not having a relationship with your dad when some people’s father’s weren’t even around. Your dad had been there. Not emotionally but he was there. Didn’t that count for something?

You cried as Kenma pulls you up to sit on the couch with you. “Shhh…” he says softly into your hair. “It’s okay baby…” he whispers.

“This is the worst holiday,” you mutter into Kenma’s neck. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair…”

Your hot tears hit Kenma’s skin and his heart aches. “It isn’t fair. You deserve love. You deserve love in the way you wish to receive it. Love without any conditions.” You cry…and cry…and cry. He holds you, whispers words of affirmation and love into your ear.

Kenma holds you until your crying subsides. Kenma was always so gentle with you. “It’s okay to cry…” he reassures you.

The teenager in you hurts. The teenager in you needed to be told this desperately. The child in you is smiling warmly. Everything is so different from when you were young. You eventually stop crying, holding Kenma close to you.

“Do you want me to make you dinner tonight?” Kenma asks you. You nod against his neck. “Just know, I love you unconditionally always. You don’t need to feel guilty for growing up. You don’t need to feel guilty for cutting off your dad. You don’t owe anyone anything. It’s okay. It truly is okay.”

You hold him closer before letting go. You nod towards him, looking into his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kozume kenma #kenma kuzome #haikyuu comfort #comfort #fanfic #comfort fanfic #drabble #i love you #haikyuu imagines #x reader #vent #i'm sad #father’s day

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kwaziicatsposts · 3 days

Text

Octonauts during a horror movie

Barnacles: the one that everyone clings to during the movie, not scared of the movie as such but may become settled during scenes of blood, gore or anything that could trigger his claustrophobia, cuddles mostly kwazii during horor movies tho.

Kwazii: fine at the beginning not really scared of the random jumpscares but freaks out over seeing people getting hurt, never watch a clown horror movie with him he will undoubtedly scream and cry from it, will throw something at the TV if dolls come on though especially baby dolls.

Peso: more mature than kwazii but screams at the normal jumpscares and gets laughed at by kwazii, generally however is accustom to the fear lol, will be scared from certain slasher movies cause knives are weirdly scary to him.

Tweak: good at not getting scared and tolerating the overall blood and gore of most horror films, ends up cuddling dashi the most, hates clowns tho from childhood memories so those'll scare her.

Dashi: scared of everything especially the jumpscares that no one expects, flinches from the violence out of randomness of not expecting it, very not good with dolls in movies tho oof.

Hope you enjoyed, sorry for not posting my last week of secondary school has been an emotional wreck lol. Thanks for all my followers for being here :3

#captain barnacles #kwazii #dashi #octonauts #octonauts captain barnacles #octonauts dashi #octonauts kwazii #octonauts peso #octonauts shellington #octonauts tweak #peso #shellington #tweak #horror

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in-kyblogs · 2 days

Text

We all get the betrayal part of the Judas kiss parallel, right? But to me the most insane part of that parallel is that both Jesus and Louis accepted it. “He forgave me for it”. Louis stayed with Armand for 77 years. The resignation, the passivity, the inevitability. The “Jesus replied, "Friend, do what you came for” of it all. Insane, it makes me cry scream throw up

#makes me vibrate #I get the religious imagery appeal Anne now I really do #iwtv #interview with the vampire #iwtv spoilers #original p.#Judas kiss

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interludered · 2 days

Text

Guilt between lovers, her name is reunited.

Gojo Satoru x Geto Suguru

The last of Us au

not proof read

t/w death, descriptions of maggots, rotting flesh, other zombie things word count 2.3k

a/n hi, this is actually a "happy ending" if you read all the way through. it is a reply i wrote a long time ago and i just thought it was super pretty! Suguru luvs Satoru very much here, and vice versa. please lemme know what you think.

When sleep confronts Suguru again, his prayers for peace seem to be answered. It’s subtle, but it will do. He isn’t sure when his body and mind began to be kind to him, but he happily is taking in the relief, the comfort that swaddles him carefully like how his mother used to, it blooms through his chest and seeps into each limb. The blue color that saturates his laugh is not metaphorical sadness in its physical display but instead a sense of peace that colors him. His red cheeks turn purple in the hue that decorates his being, and when he is throwing his head back, Gojo stands above him, bright smile shining as he becomes the sun, the halo of light that adorns his head makes him look ethereal. The glow makes Satoru nearly silhouetted, but Suguru won’t miss the way he looks at him. The ends of his hair gleam and shimmer, colors him flush with red. His cheeks round, childlike wonder still decorates his eyes. Suguru’s pupils dilate in response, eventually being hauled upwards to stand. When their hands meet, purple blends the two with ease. Another laugh painted into the sunny sky, sand falling off his clothes and back where it belongs on the beach that surrounds them.

He’s being dragged to the edge of the water, ocean eagerly lapping at his ankles. The ocean always seems to excited to greet the two. When Gojo looks back at him, tugging him into the water, the reflection in the dark rims of his glasses tells him they’re in their teens again, his youth haven’t yet slipped away. And when Suguru is too lost in his fantasy, daydreams consume him whole, fully, Satoru is splashing him. The water gets directly into his ear. Suguru is laughing, though his scolding the other doesn’t stop, letting go of his hand to wipe his face. His words hold no weight, instead, splashing the other back. Although when he looks down, the violet that once flowered is now disappearing, it skips over blue and becomes a void of color, black painted the top of each finger as he absorbed all of what was offered, though Satoru becomes all pink and red again. Yet, Satoru stands out against the waves that consume Suguru, fading deeper into the sea as he only seems to devour it’s color, sun beginning to fade. Though, that doesn’t stop his best friend, no, he’s pulling him closer instead. He always seemed to control the ocean, blue eyes contort each wave to his body, letting it caress the skin that protects him, teaching Suguru to do the same. The voice that sings out is Satoru’s, uncontrolled laugh, carefree exhibition. He doesn’t notice the way the salt in each wave scratches Suguru’s skin uncomfortably, wincing in the painful pursuit to be with his best friend.

He ignores every burn and slash, blue leaking out into the waves as it carries his color to shore, makes him greed for the fill he once had. It leaves him empty, engrossed in his feeling of vacancy. Instead of acknowledging how each pain receptor screams, a beg from his flesh that leaks its hue, he ignores every cry. The ocean shows no relent in its chase. It’s just as greedy as him, just as unforgiving. Each wave is pulling him under, mirroring his actions. Each time he swims up for air, another wave pulls him down. He isn’t sure when the riptide began but Satoru remained aloof as Suguru was pulled under. The oxygen from his lungs coursed out with each tug. He isn’t sure when his eyes fluttered shut, breath stolen with each passing second, but he does remember how he felt cold. His chest no longer blue with contentment but instead hallow and reflective white held its place instead. He only opens his eyes when a fist is being connected to his cheek, sending him backwards and onto his back.  The ocean beckons him again, the abrasive surface of sand lays under him, fingers digging deep until he is blinking. Above him, once again, is Satoru. But this time, the moon makes him glow. He’s older now. His mauve and pink cast deepening to one of carnivorous red, anger finding its home inside of him. The waves crash louder onto the land beside him. He can’t make out what he’s saying, though if he focuses, the muffled sound of resentment surround him. It’s like a bell goes off inside his brain, making him wince once again, Satoru’s words ringing loud and clear:

Of course I wouldn’t believe you!

You think you can mock me?

You think you can just waltz back into my life after all this time?

You left me, not the other way around!  Suguru’s eyebrows pulled together in a tight knot, his head shaking. His body seemed to argue with him as he willed himself to move. To speak. To do anything. But the emotions from the other pin him down, hold him tightly to seek out vengeance for his pain. The pain that Suguru caused him. The fangs sink deeply into his flesh, releasing the venom to infect his bloodstream. It burns hot, a blade dipped into molten lava and scorching his skin with each pass. It filets him wide open, and lets maggots infect his bones. It sears him and cauterizes the blood vessels. And when every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire, he finally gains the freedom to breathe, sitting up quickly.

The change in scenery has him reeling backward. Confusion fogs his brain as he looks around, a field of follows and a bright sunny day adorns his vision now, birds sing in the air as he pats himself down. His school uniform feels too tight on his body, hugging every curve and muscle snuggly. The field glows with variety, yellows, purples, oranges, and pinks. They smear together like Claude Monet and turn into small dots in the distance. The insects that visit and gather what they need flutter with grace. When Suguru moves to stand again, he blinks and the scenery changes again. When he reaches his full height, he is looking Satoru in the face.  Though, it’s not him anymore. His eyes glazed over and bloodshot. Blue eyes that once controlled and contorted the ocean were lost. It’s a hazy green iris now, something that looks so foreign on Satoru's face. The fungi that create harsh veins under his skin send a shiver down his spine, the colors they turned his skin no longer radiate romantically but something that he finds repugnant. Infection oozed thickly out of the cracks in his skin, fungi nesting in odd places. The creature he once called his best friend, his one and only, lurches forward to capture Suguru, all teeth to puncture the soft flesh. It sends them both crashing into the ground.  When Suguru hits the soil, it collapses beneath the weight of his body, letting him sink further into the ocean's welcoming waves. He opens his eyes underwater, the shine of the moonlight above him beckons him forward. And when he breaks the surface, the hard ground does nothing to break the fall onto his knees. He is soaked, the scent of salt water lingers as it drips from his clothes. His mother comes to his side, holding him as he coughs up the remainder of the liquid that finds its way into his lungs. She takes the lead in lifting him to his feet, arms wrapped around her much smaller frame. He misses her. She’s whispering something into his ear, though through the sounds of him choking, he can’t make it out.

He’s pulling back to rub at his eyes, only to have a bouquet of flowers pushed into his chest. When his own bloodshot eyes open, regardless of the stinging from salt water, his mother is smiling up at him. His arms go to wrap around her but by the time he steps forward, she has already turned to liquid, sinking deeply into the ground below him. The colorful field once enriched with variety now becoming a sea of red. It starts at his feet, purple irises spinning to show dainty, spindly leaves, each a rich red. They are thin in nature, and poisonous no matter the animal. When consumed, death only follows. As his vision rises, he watches each plant transform. The lily plagues the once beautiful field into something that feels more reminiscent of a blood bath.  Suguru kicks something in his attempts to step forward. The bouquet that only moves a few inches lays at his feet, tightly bound with red lace around the green stems. Suguru swallows as he leans over to pick it up, and when he stands, he’s once again met with blue eyes—ones that hold the ocean, childlike wonder and curiosity picking at the white-haired man so cleverly.

Only this time, Satoru’s glasses lay cracked on the ground. The sun has long set.

The moon now embellished his pale features. Suguru goes to speak but words refuse to emerge, Satoru’s eyes drop to the flowers in his hand. He seems inquisitive, but sadness makes the air thick, hand wrapped tightly against the raven-haired man's throat to suffocate on every syllable that tried to escape. The sand beneath them crunches, Suguru stands still as he watches Satorus's blue eyes gloss over, tears introducing themselves as they cascade down his cheeks, eroding the surface as each hits the sandy beach. Suguru watches as he backs away from him, frozen, the ocean beckoning him back. When he is trying to step forward, he discovers his own feet tied with weights that hold him still. He shakes against them, in attempt to break the grasp, but when he looks up again, Satoru is gone.  The red spider lilies in his hand seem to be rooting under his skin creating a permanent hold into the stems, rope burn digging deep wounds into each ankle. All Suguru can do is stare, eyes desperately searching for the other in the ever-expanding abyss. Yet, the only thing he feels is the ocean lapping excitedly at his ankles once again. Suguru! It’s a dull voice in the distance, a happy purr in cat-like tendencies the other holds. It’s a warmth that radiates deep into him, piercing down on his chest. It’s morning! You can’t stay asleep forever!  Oh, but he could. However, It’s sunshine that filters through the window and onto bare skin, kissing his shoulder, freckles living happily there. They only seem to peak when the sun greets them, the dirt king gone from his skin and allows them to meet without barriers. Come on wake up! It’s the weight of his best friend in the morning as he lays on top of him, causing Suguru to groan in annoyance as he tries to escape the grasp of the other. It’s his voice that lulls him out of his anguish, a smile teasing his lips as he wraps his arm around the body of the other, pulling him down beside him. He’s never been so happy to be annoyed so early. In fact, Sugurus never been a morning person. In the early morning of their teenage years, he would’ve cussed, his only bargain being the scent of coffee he was greeted with. But now, if it meant having the comforting body of his other half wake him up, pulling him from the dreams that haunt his head well into the day, he might tolerate his mornings without it.  When Sugurus arm is fully secure around the torso of Satoru, he flips them, pinning the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed man beneath his body weight, the blanket successfully trapping Satoru's arms to his side as Suguru now lays on top of the other. He almost feels bad for laying his dead weight on the other, left to struggle beneath him. Almost. But, instead, he yawns tiredly as he finds a spot of comfort with his head on Satoru's chest, arms securing Satoru’s under the blanket. The cool morning air hits the bare skin of Sugurus back and he can’t help but shiver. “A few more minutes,” he mumbles, his eyes still shut, a small smile danced across his lips, hidden from even his best friend. Sleep clogged his brain, voice gruff from the fatigue that lingered. He listened to the steady beat of the other heart, each pump causing his anxiety from the night to dissipate and a new emotion to replace it:  Tranquility, he thinks. The peace that washes away each bitter ending. The sun that rises every morning, is a reminder that it’s a new day. The riptide has disappeared and the storm passed, and the ocean returns to singing a sweet melody. The same one he has long familiarized himself with since meeting the other. He relishes in the steady breathing, his own breaths matching the one he lays on. The heat that permeates through the comforter that bound them together, his own legs twisted and trapping him happily.

“I haven’t slept in a real bed in 6 years, Satoru, I think I deserve a few more minutes.” Suguru continues on, still muffled as he twitches his nose, hair still knotted at the base of his scalp from the night prior. He hopes to find a brush today, perhaps one of the many people who call the shelter a home will have a spare, and he won’t have to kill another clicker with his own. He has a feeling a trim wouldn’t hurt, and Satoru would strangle him if he cut it short, so he will settle for the knots for now. Maybe Satoru would help him. Hell, he knows he will. It widens his smile a little more. His own personal secret is hidden on the chest of his one and only. It’s hard to believe he only just got him back. It feels like, somehow, he’s been there all along. The picture he holds secret, water-damaged and wrinkled, doesn’t seem to weigh down his bag anymore.

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