#still going to change some things here and there just to get used to him in my style but EH!

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

A Changed Future (2) | Yandere Isekai

Part 1

It’s so irritating for Haruko 

He remembers how he used to try and make noise in the beginning, when the same thing happened to him

But even without your struggling, he’s got more obstacles than he thought

“Tch all these guys getting in our way, maybe I should just kill them.”

“Haru no!”

“Why not, I'm sure you did it when I was trapped.”

“That…that doesn’t make it right!”

“So? Who cares about right when we’re in love? I think it was you who said that.”

Either way with or without your approval he’s figuring out a way to take down his newfound rivals

He kind of hopes they are as ambitious as the friends who recently abandoned him

Too bad they aren’t

In the original story, the crazy thing about the protagonist was that despite their obsessive love for Haruko and general disregard for those who got in the way of that was otherwise really inspiring

Breaking away from their elitist family for their violent morals ironic right

Joining the workforce, easily rising because of their work ethic and intelligence

And all that while beautifully evading a less-than-clean detective trying to pin the blame of random crimes on them

Which of course got them their own male leads attempting to pursue their affections

Always doomed to fall short because of circumstance or the protagonist suavely crushing their hopes to gush about their love

It was a uniquely terrible tragedy for their characters to be written this way

That’s what the random reviewers would say

Which is why you did feel inclined to maybe entertain them a bit more than the original protagonist would have ever done

“Since you are quitting….I hope you’ll let me treat you to dinner. For all your hard work of course.”

“Uh sure but I have to be home by sunset.”

“That’s a shame then we’ll have to—Wait. Did you say you would?”

“Yeah, are you okay?”

“YES! Ahem I mean yes I’m fine! I look forward to a nice evening together!”

Unknowingly furthering the obsession the protagonist was barely keeping at bay

“So mind telling me what you ordered that day at the restaurant?”

“I think it was my favorite dish there called the berry delight but I’m not sure. I think they changed the menu since I was there.”

“Why not confirm it later today? That way you can tell me if you did see the missing classmate of yours.”

“But I don’t remember exactly where I sat–”

“Then we’ll just have to sit in every spot until it rings a bell.”

“I don’t know if that’s–”

“Don’t fret. I’ll be paying but there's no way we’ll get to try every table. We’ll have to come back multiple times.”

“Okay…”

“No worries I’m sure you’ll get tired of eating there so we’ll go to some other places to give you a rest. Anywhere you wanted to try?”

You’d be foolish to think you could escape them by agreeing to Haruko’s entrapping of you 

It only takes a day of you not responding to messages that they both eagerly awaiting you at your door

And after the first few times, Haruko shooing them away they begin to get resourceful

“Yeah bud nice try their still out.”

“Hm well say that to my lovely warrant right here.”

“Wait! H-h-hold on! Geez I-i’ll go get them now but they are not going to be happy with you!”

It really doesn’t get better as the guard against the protagonist’s secrets begins to be let down as interested parties slowly make their way in

You don’t have the same ruthlessness or ability to deceive as the protagonist you took over for 

On top of that you never actually read the webtoon so you’ll be left trying to piece together whatever few weak points the protag has

Where if you hadn’t already started to make your pursuers interested all those faults are fuel for their agenda

“It’s so unfortunate that the company can sign off on your absence during this suspicious crime but I don’t mind editing records if you wouldn’t mind spending time with me. That way I can vet your personality myself. Over wine of course!”

It’s overwhelming constantly being pulled in 3 directions 

What’s worse you’re completely oblivious when the latest obstacle in the protag’s perfect life finally makes themselves known

“Hello darling, it took us years to find you but we did it!”

“Don’t look like that come give your Mama a hug!”

Part 3: Coming Soon

[allfryam]

feeder for president 2: mike’s story

This isn’t a direct sequel to feeder for president, but it takes place in the same universe, about a year after the law was implemented. We follow our protagonist Mike as he has to bid farewell to his abs because he turns 18 soon.

Mike awoke groggily and smacked his ringing alarm clock that sat on his nightstand. He slowly pulled off the covers and sat up. Still in his underwear, he walked sleepily to the kitchen to get some breakfast. A glass of orange juice and 3 scrambled eggs ought to do the trick. He yawned and scratched his lower abs. He had been going to the gym consistently for about a year now and you could tell. His rock hard abs were complemented by his thick, muscular arms and lean frame. It wasn’t easy having this body though. Ever since the lard law was put into place, gyms had been banned and healthy food was a thing of the past. Mike was smart enough to keep some old weights and dumbbells hidden in his garage so he could still keep his nice figure. That was all going to change soon though. His birthday was in a couple months and the second he turned 18, he would have to throw this healthy lifestyle out the window.

Mike had a plan though. He was going to try to eat as healthy as possible and continue working out even after he turned 18. He figured he would just have to gain 25 pounds of muscle instead of fat. How hard could it be?

well, it was finally here. Mike awoke like any other day, but his throat was a little sore from the new implant they gave him last night. Instead of his usual small breakfast, Mike ate 6 eggs, sausage, and toast. He had downloaded a calorie tracker app to make sure he was eating enough. For breakfast, he ate about 1700 calories. Nice. He was on track to hit 5000 before the end of the day. He made himself a protein shake with about 500 calories and headed out to his garage. Still shirtless, he lifted weights and did various exercises for about an hour. His chilled frame was dripping with sweat by the time he was finished. It was the middle of July and the only air conditioning in his garage was a dinky box fan that hadn’t been turned off in years.

for lunch, Mike met up with his friend Hayden at a local diner. Hayden used to have a similar frame to Mike, but Hayden turned 18 back in April, and as you may expect, his abs were a thing of the past. “Nice gut, dude.” Mike teased. Hayden didn’t really seem to mind. Most people had come to terms with the new law, and being bigger was the new fashion standard. “I think I’m gonna shoot to gain 35 pounds instead of 25 this year. The extra thousand bucks would be sweet!” Hayden said, breaking the silence. “Those extra fat rolls will be pretty sweet too huh?” Mike said sarcastically. Hayden just rolled his eyes.

when lunch finally arrived, Mike was starving. He ordered the double cheeseburger and fries with a large sweet tea. 1200 calories. A bit less than lunch but he would be up to 3400 for the day after this meal. Hayden ordered a personal pizza, a basket of loaded tater tots, buffalo chicken dip, and a large chocolate milkshake. “Jeez dude. You’re really gonna eat all that?” Mike commented. “If I’m gonna get this extra cash, I need to start eating more. I’m only up 10 pounds since April.” Hayden replied. “This meal should actually already put me over the 5000 calorie minimum for the day. I had a pretty big breakfast.”

by the end of his first day being an adult, Mike had eaten 5300 calories. He could have eaten more but he didn’t want to overeat like Hayden. He was gonna turn himself into a fat slob eating like that. Mike was gonna stay perfectly fit. This stupid law wouldn’t affect him at all.

“Damnit.” Mike whispered to himself, looking in the mirror. It had been about a month since he turned 18, and he was struggling to keep up with his healthy lifestyle. Eating 5000 calories a day was slowly catching up to Mike. He pinched the small belly that was forming on him. If he flexed, his abs were still visible, and you could hardly tell he had gained any weight unless he took his shirt off, but Mike was devastated. He had abs almost his entire life, and just like that, they were gone. Mike didn’t have time to sulk in the bathroom though. He had to finish packing for college so he could move out tomorrow. He and Hayden were going to be roommates and Mike was excited.

the boys first week at school was rough. Well, for Mike. Hayden was having the time of his life. The unlimited food plan meant he could practically live in the dining hall. Hayden had gotten even fatter since Mike had last seen him and Hayden didn’t seem to care. “Look around dude. Everyone has at least a little bit of a belly. You’re like the only skinny one.” Hayden said between mouthfuls of pizza. Mike hated to admit it but Hayden was right. Looking around the dining hall, there was a guy in a Spider-Man shirt that looked like it was two sizes too small, a guy that had pulled his shirt up to rub his bloated gut, a tall guy that had unbuttoned his jeans to give his belly room to grow, and even a guy with no shirt at all. He had his round gut on full display and no one seemed to care. Was it really better to just let yourself go like that? Mike pondered as he ate his burrito.

Mike decided to listen to Hayden and try out this weight gain thing. It was already happening to him slowly, why not speed it up? He spent the whole day eating whatever he wanted, not caring about his body at all. And to his surprise, it felt incredible! Eating stress free was the best thing he’s ever done! Tallying his calories at the end of the day, Mike discovered he ate over 7000 calories! He didn’t care though. If he was gonna be forced to gain weight, why not have fun while doing it?

over the next few weeks, Mike and Hayden continued to grow. They would eat constantly. One day they decided to camp out in the dining hall and eat all day. They got there bright and early at 6 AM when they opened and ordered a huge breakfast. Waffles, pancakes, French toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and more. They scarfed it down and rubbed their bellies while talking to each other. “Looks like Mr. Perfect is starting to fall apart.” Hayden teased, poking the sliver of belly poking out from Mike’s shirt. Mike blushed and pulled his shirt back down. “Shut up.” Mike huffed. They continued to chitchat for a few more hours until they were both hungry enough for lunch. Burgers, fries, pizza, tacos, chips, cookies, chicken, and various other meals were brought back to the table and munched on as the boys continued to talk. Two 18 year olds stuffing their faces with fattening food would be considered odd or inappropriate a few years back, but with the new law, it was completely normal. Everyone in the dining hall was trying to eat loads of food. Everyone’s clothes were a bit to tight. Everyone’s belly was a bit bloated. It was great. People weren’t judged for their bodies anymore.

around 6 or seven, the boys decided they had finally recovered from their massive lunch, they decided to grab dinner. They went all out this time, getting crabs, fish, pasta, rice, subs, shrimp, quesadillas, and more. Mike’s belly was barely fitting under his shirt, and his pants were super tight. Hayden had completely taken his shirt off, opting to let his expanding belly breathe. By the end of dinner the boys were stuffed beyond belief. They leaned back in their chairs, rubbing their bloated bellies, trying to stifle their massive burps.

“Dude! It’s already 8:45!” Hayden said about an hour later. “Yeah. So what?” Mike asked. “The dining hall closes at nine! We need to get dessert before they close!” The bloated boys rushed back to the food area to find some desserts. To their surprise, most of the staff gave them extra so they wouldn’t have to throw it out at the end of the night. They arrived back at their table with an entire cheesecake, 3 slices of chocolate cake, a plate full of various cookies, lots of pastries, and a huge sundae they had created with the rest of the I e cream and toppings. They started with that so they could eat it before it melted. It was vanilla ice cream with whipped cream, cookie dough, hot fudge, Oreos, caramel, and a cherry on top. They tore through it quickly and moved on to the mountain of other dessert. By the time they were finished, the boys were exhausted. Hayden had eaten so much, his bloated belly was touching the table. They headed back to their dorm and passed out with their bloated bellies grumbling in pain.

let me know if you guys would like a part two to this story. I really enjoyed writing about these two, and they quickly became one of my favorite characters. I know posts have been slow lately but I’ve been focusing on myself and I have officially started gaining! I started about a month ago and I’m up 5 pounds. It’s been slow but I’m having a really great time. If anyone has any tips please leave them in the comments.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 26

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 7279

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Extras: Author's Vision of the Party Attire ~ Reader ~ The Boys

Summary: Buggy and Shanks have one more talk before the show, and their memories haunt them both as the big finale stuns the crowd.

Author's Note: !!! EXTRA SPOILER WARNING !!! I'm so sorry! I'm not usually a manga reader, and haven't started to tackle One Piece yet, so I didn't realize that I've been working off of a manga spoiler that I got spoiled on last year while doing Buggy research. It's a very brief flashback from chapter 1082 that reveals the end the argument that Buggy and Shanks had after Roger's execution that we see just a glimpse of back when Shanks met with Whitebeard after Enies Lobby. I've written my own version of that flashback in the first scene. That's not the main thing that caused the rift between them in my story, so you are free to skip over it if you like, and there is plenty more Shuggy content for you in this chapter. I feel like this detail can be inferred from the anime event that I already warn for at the end of the Wano arc, but if you'd like to avoid that specific scene, please skip the first section! It's bracketed with these symbols: ~~~⏰🤡🔴⏰~~~

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Grief, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Death of a Minor Character, Flirting, Arguments, Blowjobs, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

Rain. 

What a strange feeling. 

How long has it been raining?

Has his blood been washed away already?

Buggy paced back and forth through the alley, waiting for his friend, his rival, to show up. Roger’s declaration had sent chaos through the city. Loguetown’s guards were circling, trying desperately to catch every witness before the new age could begin.

Nothing can stop Roger’s dream. Not even death.

Buggy choked on his almost optimistic thought. He couldn’t understand this new reality.

He needed to see Shanks.

~~~

Shanks couldn’t think in words, his tears too heavy for even the rain to wash away. 

Roger. 

The weight of grief and pressure would have paralyzed him, if not for his instincts to survive. The red haired boy flew through the town, his body running from the death of a man that meant family, searching for a blue haired boy that meant home.

~~~

“Shanks, you dumbass,” Buggy scolded, eyes scanning over his friend’s pale face. “What took you so long? It’s not safe–”

“I’m here,” he whispered, pulling Buggy in for a hug. Buggy shook him off to grab him by the shoulders, ignoring the rain that still poured over them both.

“Well, let’s hurry up,” the clown tried to sound positive, trying to push through the pain of losing the man that raised him. He needed to cheer Shanks up, to see his friend shining again. “You made Roger a promise, remember? You’re gonna get a ship, and we’ll go find the One Piece on our own. So let’s go!”

I can’t do it.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Shanks grimaced, trying to stay steady. Trying not to fall apart. “I don’t feel like trying to get there now. But I’ll still be a pirate.”

Buggy stared. He couldn’t be hearing this. Not from Shanks.

I thought he was gonna be the next king. That’s what Roger wanted, wasn't it? Shanks wouldn’t say this. 

The boy in the straw hat couldn’t take the look on his friend's face. 

I can’t, Buggy. Please, just… 

“Come with me, Buggy!”

Everything cracked. Every vision of the future that Buggy had decided he wanted. Every shining image of Shanks that made him believe, made him trust. 

You’re not who I thought you were, Shanks. 

“I’m not gonna work under you, idiot!! You– you COWARD!!”

Shanks broke, yet again. He couldn’t take it. Couldn’t lose everything all at once. He couldn’t speak while Buggy used an old accident against him, leaving him with shame and loneliness that he didn’t know what to do with.

I believed in you, Shanks.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that you lost my treasure map? And I can’t swim because of you! It’s your fault I can’t…” Buggy croaked out, covering his true pain with the only thing he could think of that would get him away from this liar. This false idol. This person that he’d poured all of his own dreams into. “Well, I haven’t forgiven you, Shanks! So until the next time we meet…”

The rain fell harder, as though nature were trying to drown out this moment before it could ruin their lives. 

But it was too late.

“We’re enemies!!”

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

Fuck. Just breathe. 

Buggy paced in his dressing room after he finished the intro, his hands floating around him so his fingers could walk and tap along his whole body. It wasn’t enough to calm him down. 

I can do this. I won’t fuck it up. They won’t take her again.

That worry was still present, although it was shrinking a bit more each day.

Nope. Can’t think about that.

There wasn’t enough time to unpack why his “executives” were less scary now. They could still hurt them. They could still take her from him.

Showtimeshowtimeshowtime.

Buggy blew a few raspberries while he shook his arms out, about to run through some more vocal warmups when someone knocked on the door.

“Bugs, I’m sorry, but I need to tell you something. Now.”

~~~

“What the fuck, Sha—“

The red haired pirate pushed his way in, losing every word he’d struggled to come up with while he snuck back here again. 

“Get out, dumbass,” Buggy ordered, almost grateful to have someone to yell at. Or he would have been grateful if this new, pathetic version of Shanks wasn’t hurting his brain. 

“It’s about Y/N,” Shanks pleaded. He’d never seen Buggy’s face change the way it did at those words, at the urgency in them.

“Tell me,” Buggy growled, not sure what to do with the tension that had just shot through him. He couldn’t think yet. 

“Her uncle crashed the party. I’m— hold on,” Shanks groaned when Buggy tried to shove past him. The red haired pirate pressed his back against the door, struggling to calm his old friend down. “Crocodile is seating him with me, okay? I told you I’ll look out for her out there. I won’t let you down. I just wanted you to know what’s going on.”

“How is she,” Buggy demanded. His breathing was ragged when he finally stopped trying to tear his way through the other man to get to the door. “Is she okay, did he… Is she okay?”

The urge to run out and find her was overwhelming, but he forced himself to listen.

“She’s still with Crocodile and Mihawk. I didn’t before, but… I think she’s safe with them, Buggy. At least for tonight.”

The clown gaped at him, mind still churning from all of those promises to take her away from danger. 

Shanks felt himself losing his hold, losing his hope for the future he wanted, and it fucking stung. 

She’s more important. I can’t use her for my own goals. Not again. 

Y/N’s sick laughter, and her rage filled demands echoed within him.

“I’m gonna sit with him, Bugs. I'll do everything I can to protect her. I promise.”

“… He doesn’t know you’re our friend, right? Just a guest?”

“I’m just an honored guest,” Shanks laughed, that bitter taste still fresh on his tongue. 

“Don’t let him know,” Buggy ordered, grabbing Shanks by the chin as he glared into his eyes from inches away, “just in case. It’d be good to have someone with an in that he doesn’t think we’re connected to, at least not closely.” 

“Got it, so I—“

“Do that fucking thing you do,” Buggy continued as he started to pace, his fingers snapping, then tapping again. 

Shanks started to question, but the clown talked over him until all he could do was listen. 

“Do that smile everyone loves. Not this weird one,” he scoffed as he gestured toward Shanks’ face. “Do the cheesy one that makes everyone wanna lick your fucking sandals.”

“Excuse me,” Shanks laughed, forgetting. Buggy made him forget it all again, for just a moment.

“I said stop being this miserable, idiot person, and go flirt with that asshole until you get something we can use against him! You could charm a fucking sea beast, Shanks, I know you can—“

Shanks had enough restraint to keep from smearing Buggy’s makeup with a kiss, but he bellowed with laughter as he pulled his friend into a hug. 

“I won’t let you down,” he promised, “I won’t let her down. I’m here for you, Bugs.”

Always.

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

“Buggy?”

No.

“Gods, Buggy! What’s it been, four, five years now? You look great!”

Buggy wished he could have looked away, wished he could have pretended he was someone else. 

But no one in the world looked like him. 

Shanks gave him no time to process, no space. He just sat beside him at the bar, wrapping an arm around his shoulders before looking back while he called out. 

“Guys, this is Buggy! My friend that I’ve—“

“We know, captain,” chuckled a man with warm brown skin, and dark blonde dreads. Buggy had turned to find the source of the voice, spotting a small, eclectic group at a large booth with him.  

“Fuck, it’s good to see you,” Shanks beamed, his cheeks already starting to hurt. It had been so long. He couldn’t believe Buggy was right here beside him. He held his breath as he pulled his old friend into a darkened, corner booth.

Buggy could breathe a bit easier once they were out of everyone’s line of sight, shaking his head slightly at how out of character that was for him. 

“Shanks…”

“Buggy!”

The red haired pirate scooted close before wrapping his arms around the quiet clown, letting out soft, gasping laughs. He giggled more when Buggy disconnected his hand so he could grab his mug to take a large swig. 

“I missed you, old friend,” Shanks pulled back, his wide eyes darting too fast while he tried to take in every detail. “I love your hair.”

Buggy shivered when Shanks tugged on his blue hair, grown so much longer since they last saw each other. 

Memories of that painful day hit his mind, and he jolted when Shanks touched his hand.

“Sorry, Bugs, I’m just so happy to see you.”

“You’ve got a crew already,” Buggy noted, embarrassment kicking in at how far behind he was, yet again.

“It’s not a lot, but we’re growing,” the red haired pirate grinned toward his small crew that was becoming his new family. His new world. 

And here was his old world, frowning into his mug. 

“We’re staying here tonight, but I can show you my ship tomorrow if you…”

“Sounds good,” Buggy coughed, downing the rest of his bitter drink. He couldn’t afford the sweeter things he liked, but he wanted to seem more impressive anyway. 

“Have you been in this town long,” Shanks asked, gaining control of his excitement enough to notice Buggy’s mood, so he tried to shift his tone. “I bet you know the best lookout spots already. What about the market? You have a con or two going yet?”

“Of course I do,” Buggy grumbled, stealing Shanks’ mug for a sip. His face went hot when his friend’s hand rested on his wrist instead of taking the drink back. Old, strange feelings started flooding through him, and he didn’t know what to do with it all.

“I’ll follow you, then,” Shanks teased, nudging Buggy out of the booth.

~~~

Sunset in this shitty town wasn’t too bad when you had a good roof, a decent bottle of booze, and an old friend that reminded you of better days. 

The young pirates laughed, drank, and shared stories, finally having their own to share instead of their versions of the same tale.

Stars filled the sky, like a million tiny spotlights reaching out just to shine on them. 

Buggy let out a soft gasp, his body tingling when Shanks moved beside him, pulling him down until they laid on their backs with their shoulders and arms pressed against each other. 

And the backs of their hands. Their fingers every time they moved.

Right. This feels right.

What am I doing? I should leave. 

“You know, I think about you, Buggy,” Shanks confessed, tilting his head to gaze at the real star beside him. “I’ve thought about you so many times.”

Fingers flexed, warm and cool skin, barely connecting. Knuckles touched, rubbing together, so very lightly.

Buggy clenched his eyes shut, trying to remember why he thought he shouldn’t be here with Shanks. What was the point? 

He’d been alone for so long.

His breath went strange. The tingling feeling grew. Dizziness hit.

Why are his fingers touching mine like this? Why are my fingers reaching back? 

Shanks felt compelled, his body aching for Buggy’s touch in a way they’d never shared before. He’d known that he missed his friend, but he didn’t realize how desperately until now. Seeing him again made him high, made him reach out. 

Made him hold Buggy’s hand under the stars. 

“I missed you too, Shanks.”

~~~

“Fuck off, Shanks.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed, holding out his hands to block Buggy’s path when he tried to shove past him, and out of the captain’s cabin. “Why not just stay for a little while then? You don’t need to be a crew member to sail with us to the next island, right? It’ll save you some berry.”

Those soft, brown eyes seemed to be poisonous. The longer Buggy spent falling into them, the weaker he became. 

“Fine, but just until the next island,” Buggy grumbled, gasping when Shanks tackled him in a hug. They breathed each other in, the air vibrating around them by the time they separated. Their hands seemed drawn together like magnets. Shanks trailed his fingers down Buggy’s arms, wrists, hands, holding for just a moment.

“I’m not sleeping in one of those crappy bunks. You really need to get a better ship soon, this one–”

“Sleep with me,” Shanks blurted, his face not going nearly as red as his friend’s. “I mean sleep in here with me, my bed’s pretty big. It’ll be just like old times!”

He skirted around the clown, plopping onto the edge of the mediocre bed before patting the mattress beside him. 

Buggy gaped, not sure why every new conversation with Shanks made him feel like he was falling off the edge of the world.

“I don’t…”

“It’s alright,” Shanks breathed, his heart racing faster than he knew it could. “I can sleep in a cot if you want.”

I’ve never wanted anyone like this. He’s right here, so close to my bed. I need to touch him, need to feel him. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Buggy scolded, plopping down beside his red haired friend. “I won’t have your crew coming after me for making their captain…”

Shanks laid his hand on Buggy’s thigh, and a high pitched ringing seemed to take all the sounds from the world. 

“Buggy, I– mmn,” Shanks moaned at the firm press of lips against his. Buggy grabbed his face, and the taste of grease paint was deliciously bitter as their first kiss deepened. His clown crawled over him, straddling his lap while Shanks lost himself. 

What am I doing…

Buggy stopped listening to his doubts, stopped caring. Shanks’ warmth, the hungry sounds he was making, and his strong hands gripping his back, his thighs, pulling him even closer, took over every thought, every sensation. He’d never felt anything like this. Couldn’t believe he was doing this.

He couldn’t believe his beautiful friend was letting him. 

“You’re perfect, Bugs,” Shanks hummed, kissing down his friend's throat. “You feel so good.”

The clown made a frustrated noise, kissing that mouth again before it could say anything else. 

“Shut up,” he whispered against smiling lips.

“No,” Shanks declared as he stood, making Buggy yelp when he flipped them around, tossing them both onto the bed. Buggy’s blue hair shined around him like a halo while his teeth scraped over his messy, lower lip. Shanks had caged him in, but kept that aching part of his body from connecting yet, though he wasn’t sure how long he could stand it. 

“I won’t shut up ‘til you believe it,” Shanks teased, leaning down for a soft kiss. “You’re amazing, Buggy! You’re beautiful, and funny, and soo fucking sexy.”

“Sexy,” he whispered, gasping underneath the red haired pirate. It was too much. Too good. 

“Can I prove it to you,” Shanks rasped, low and dangerous while he lost his strength to hold back.

“Go ahead and try, but I don’t– fuck…”

Shanks had grabbed Buggy’s hand, throwing his head back when he wrapped those gloved fingers around his own throbbing cock. He guided Buggy’s hand as he stroked up and down his length through his pants before finding the clown just as painfully needy as he was. 

“Gods, Buggy... You want me too, don’t you, baby?”

Buggy’s body answered for him, his back arching at those tempting words. He couldn’t stop shaking from that incredible touch, but nothing could pry his hand loose, Shanks’ cock twitching in his palm through that thin fabric.

“Shanks, please.”

“Please, what,” Shanks half teased, half begged. “Tell me what you want, and I just might give it to you.”

Buggy almost sobbed when Shanks moved their hands away, blocking his weak attempts to reach for him again. 

“I know you hate listening to me,” Shanks purred, his body pulsing at Buggy’s little sounds when he whispered those words into his ear. He pulled back enough to meet those crystal eyes, almost forgetting his goal. Almost.

“But I wanna make you feel good, Buggy,” he promised. “I want you to—“

“Just do it already,” Buggy groaned as he pulled Shanks onto him, and they both let out desperate noises when their bodies connected. The red haired pirate rolled away, shaking his head while he scolded him.

“Don’t be impatient, Bugs. I wanna take my time with— hey, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Buggy choked out. He clenched his eyes shut, wanting to jump through the little, round window into the fucking ocean. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“Bugs,” Shanks whispered, wanting to reach out, but not sure if he should. “I’m sorry, we can take things slow, okay? I’m just excited you’re here with me.”

“Ugh,” the clown groaned while he rolled over, his frustrated noise continuing as he breathed it into a pillow. 

“Can I get you anything,” Shanks offered, sitting cross legged while he stared down at that pretty hair. He held his own fingers in his lap to resist trailing them through all of that lovely blue. His friend made an incomprehensible sound that brought the hint of a smile to his lips. “Sorry, I didn’t catch tha—“

“Just kill me,” Buggy grumbled, tilting to squint at Shanks with one eye, hoping that he’d disappeared. 

There he was. Perfect. Saying such wonderful things. The way he’d touched him...

It was too much. Too good to be true. 

Buggy had tried to find someone. Most of the time people wouldn’t take him seriously, but there were some that didn’t mind him being a clown. 

Until they asked him to take off his nose. 

Even those that were open to kissing, to touching such a freak, couldn’t hold it in. There was always a moment. An awkward giggle. A brief look of disgust when they thought he wasn’t paying attention. He should have just gone through with it, just accepted that was how it would always be. 

No one wanted to touch him.

Buggy rolled onto his back to find Shanks waiting, a tiny smile on those lips that were smeared with his paint. The sight tore a bittersweet laugh from the clown’s throat.

“I don’t want your pity,” he confessed and demanded, struggling to keep his voice steady. “You don’t need to touch me. I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“What are you talking about?”

After all these years, those soft brown eyes had looked at him like that. Just the thought of those eyes turning sour hurt more than all of the others that had. He pushed himself up, moving toward the door, needing to escape before that moment could arrive.

“Buggy!”

Their hearts seemed to clash against each other with heavy, frantic beats when Shanks wrapped himself around his friend’s back.

Please, don’t leave again.

“There’s no pity,” he implored, his breath warming the back of Buggy’s neck through all that lovely hair. “I’m glad you kissed me, Bugs. I’d really like it if you did it again, but only if you want to.”

The clown lost all momentum, his painful doubts and fears struggling to stay front of mind with Shanks all around him.

“Just tell me what you need. I’m here for you, Bugs. Always.”

“Shut up, you sap,” Buggy rasped, grabbing onto the hands that gripped his chest. He melted at the hum of relief Shanks let out, and at the breath that moved to the side of his neck, touching his skin.

“Just tell me if you wanna stop.”

“I don’t wanna stop. Just— gods.”

The clown’s gasping moan brought a low growl from Shanks’ throat when he kissed and sucked his neck, pressing his swollen cock against Buggy’s ass. He freed one of his hands to travel down, reaching down, until he dipped his fingers into those teal pants. 

“Can’t believe you were about to walk out that door,” he teased, licking and nibbling at Buggy’s ear. “Not when you’re this fucking hard for me. Mm, you’re shaking, Bugs. Want me to—“

“Shut up,” Buggy laughed this time, pulling away from that wicked hold.

Just right now. It’s okay if it’s only for right now. We can be…

“Oh, fuuck,” Shanks moaned, his own legs shaking as he stared down. Buggy had gone to his knees, turning to face him before tugging at his pants. It didn’t take long before Buggy wrapped gloved fingers around his shaft, frowning at his own accessories while he paused his task.

Shanks held in a laugh at that adorable face, grabbing one of the clown’s hands to kiss those gloved fingers. 

“You don’t need to hide from me, Bugs,” he promised, smiling as he bit down on the fabric. He laughed through his teeth now at Buggy’s new expression while he tore the glove free. 

A soft, little smirk touched Buggy’s lips before he copied his friend, growling when he pulled the other glove off with his teeth.

“You know, I can… I want… Fuck, that feels so good, Buggy. Just like that.”

Part of Buggy was still waiting for the look on Shanks’ face to twist, but all it did was go desperate, a sight he hadn’t known he needed to see. His perfect friend, falling to pieces for him. His taste, his voice, his thick, veiny cock that Buggy was learning how to breathe around. Every word of praise that fell from his friend's lips felt like a standing ovation, and the fingers that twisted into his hair made his eyes roll back in his head. 

Shanks was shocked that he was still on his feet with the way his friend's eyes burned into him like that. 

He’s so beautiful. So fucking good.

The way Buggy had wasted no time in taking him down his throat sent so much pleasure through him, as though his clown was just as desperate for him as he was. 

Buggy’s hands shifted, one stroking along his base, the other massaging his balls until Shanks’ head fell back, almost whimpering.

“You’re so fucking— sooo good, Bugs. Fuck, you’re gonna make me come, baby. I want— wanna make you feel good too…”

Buggy let out a choked laugh, muffled through that throbbing cock, but he couldn’t help it. He had a moment of fear that Shanks would be disgusted, but the needy look on his friend's face pushed him through. 

“Buggy,” Shanks laughed, then moaned at the sight of Buggy’s cock floating up in front of his face, achingly hard, and dripping with precum. 

“Such a good boy for me. Come on, Buggy. Fuck my throat ‘til we both come,” Shanks ordered, fisting that pretty, blue hair, and giving his friend a wicked smirk. “Think you can— mmnf”

Holy shit. This is real. This is Shanks.

Buggy’s here. He’s mine.

Nothing else existed. 

These two long lost friends created their own perfect world made up of their strangled moans, their tingling bodies, and the overwhelming pleasure they drank from each other. 

There was something powerful, almost too real, in the way they looked at each other while they came, until that blissful heat pouring down their throats sent both sets of eyes rolling back. 

The way they looked at each other afterwards stunned them both into silence. Time stood still, until Shanks couldn’t stand anymore. 

He joined Buggy on his knees, awe showing in that crooked smile of his while he brought his hands up to cradle Buggy’s face. 

“I missed you, Bugs,” Shanks breathed against his friend’s lips.

“Of course you did.”

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

“Get off of me, shithead,” Buggy growled while he pushed Shanks away, frustrated with how much he wanted to let him take over his world again. “Go figure out how to get rid of that asshole. Thinks he can just come in here, and… Why is he here?”

“I don’t know yet.” 

The red haired man’s momentary relief from guilt was withering away, as though his body could feel where the next few words would take them. 

“Well, he’s a fucking moron if he thinks he can just walk in here and take her. Like the fucking Cross Guild is just gonna let someone take our girl? Our— What?”

Y/N’s voice filled Shanks’ mind, her empty eyes branded onto his guilty heart. 

‘I can’t go with you. Please make him happy.’

That’s what she said. She’s gonna leave. Y/N’s gonna leave because I pushed her away. I tore them apart. 

“Why the fuck are you making that face?”

‘Don’t tell anyone.’

Shanks froze. The right thing to do would be to tell, wouldn’t it? He’d hurt her, and he needed to fix it. He had to make sure Buggy didn’t lose his star.

But she’d begged him not to tell. After what he did, the thought of going against his promise made him choke. 

Fuck.

“Shanks?“

“Y/N hasn’t seemed okay since I’ve…” Shanks tried. The near violence in those crystal eyes made him want to beg, to take any punishment, anything to get rid of this fucking guilt. 

“What are you saying?”

“I know you know her better than I do,” he continued softly. Weakly. “But I think she’s hurting. I think what we— what I’ve been doing has made her feel…”

He watched helplessly as Buggy’s face changed, his muscles twitching while flashes of anger, horror, and guilt fought for control. 

“Are you saying she’s gonna leave with him,” the clown whispered, desperate to snatch the words back from the air, as if they alone would make it true. 

Yet the memory of Y/N’s tears dragged the clown too deep, drowning him in fear and shame.

“Are you saying my star's gonna leave because I hurt her,” Buggy breathed, every memory of Shanks touching him in front of her turning to acid now. 

Y/N had kept smiling for him.

Until Mihawk had taken her away. 

I didn’t care. I just kept thinking about Shanks. I used her for him. I ignored her, even when we…

He felt sick.

“I treated her like she was just a joke!”

“Buggy, I—“

Shanks had expected violence, almost craved it, when Buggy grabbed his cloak. Instead, his tortured friend pulled him close, gloved hands trembling against him.

“Help me!"

“Of course,” Shanks promised, hating his greedy urge to kiss that look of pain off of the clown’s face. “I’ll fix this. I’ll make sure she—“

“I can’t lose her,” Buggy murmured, releasing the red haired pirate from his grasp. “Please—“

“I swear. I will do everything in my power to fix what I… I’m so sorry, Buggy.”

The clown stepped back, aching to scream, to rage against the man in front of him, but his own fear and guilt held him back. He needed Shanks. He tried not to think about how much. 

I need Y/N. I need my star.

“It wasn’t just you,” Buggy admitted, opening the dressing room door for his old friend. His old world.

He’s not my only world anymore.

“I’ll fix this,” Shanks breathed, squeezing Buggy’s hand. There were so many more words he wanted to say, but they were running out of time. Selfish words that he had always meant to say, but he knew he didn’t deserve them now. 

Energy flooded his veins as he left Buggy backstage again, this time with his vow holding him steady.

I’ll fix this.

~~~

Please don’t go, star. I’ll do anything. 

Buggy panicked, every moment of pain on her face replaying in his mind like his own perfect torture. 

“I’m a fucking IDIOT! Such a piece of shit! I knew it! I knew I was hurting her, and now she’s gonna…”

Buggy didn’t wait for his feet to catch up while he flew toward the vanity. He dumped out the drawers, tossing everything behind him. All of the colorful contents were scattered across the plush carpet, glitter and greasepaint like fresh wounds left to fester and scar. 

“I can’t let you leave. You’re everything, star. Just talk to me, baby. I’ll listen. You’re not a joke to me, never a joke.”

Buggy tore his dressing room apart, vowing to keep tears from touching her beautiful eyes ever again. 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

Buggy was whistling and skipping back to the docks, carrying a smug smile, and very full pockets. The citizens of this island were friendly to street performers, and he’d spent the day being showered with berry and praise instead of scouting for good pickpocketing spots.

Although he had snagged a rather nice watch during one of his sleight of hand tricks. 

He’d even heard stories about another performer that had just left town to head up the coast, and he was hoping they could stay here long enough for him to go see for himself. 

Buggy had always wanted to see a lion tamer’s act up close.

The tavern was fancier than their usual spots, and Buggy had to stop himself from floating when he spotted it down the road. He didn’t want to spook the friendly locals. 

I’ve got enough berry for some good drinks tonight.

The memory of Shanks grimacing at the taste of all the sweet cocktails he’d forced him to try had Buggy chewing on the inside of his lip, fighting a cheesy smile when he stepped into the pleasantly dim tavern. The booths had high, decorated partitions between them, each lit with their own small lanterns. Most of the crew had been taking up the tables in the middle during their stay, but the place was nearly empty besides a couple of residents. 

Buggy caught a glimpse of a sandled foot poking out from one of the booths, and couldn’t resist the urge to sneak up on his red haired friend. 

Not friend. Boyfriend.

Still not used to that word, Buggy moved closer, silent as he could be. 

“Captain, we need to talk about the clown.”

“Buggy’s good, Benn! There’s nothing to talk about.”

The clown froze for a moment before ducking into the booth behind the captain and his first mate. 

It felt wrong. He knew it was wrong, but his heart was stuck in his throat, anxiety rippling under his skin. He clenched his fists, listening.

“You’re not kids anymore. It’s been two years.”

“I know how aging works, old man,” Shanks teased, taking a large swig of his drink, the mug sounding too light when he set it down. 

“You’re a captain, Shanks,” Benn sighed, the pressure in his voice turning Buggy’s stomach. “You need to command respect. Buggy isn’t a member of the crew. He argues with you in front of everyone, even enemies—“

“We’re just playing arou—“ 

“You’re not children,” Benn scolded, his voice going soft quickly after that harsh tone. “A captain needs to be taken seriously. He has to show you respect, Shanks. You need to stop pretending that he’s not a member of the crew just to protect your boyfriend’s feelings.”

Nausea tore through Buggy, humiliation flooding in along with every memory he had with Shanks’ crew. 

They all think I’m pathetic. Just a joke. Just Shanks’— 

“Okay, Benn. I hear you, alright,” Shanks conceded, releasing a heavy breath. Buggy felt a gentle thud against the thin wall between them, as though Shanks had tilted his head back to rest against the wood. 

“I’ll talk to him about it. I just don’t wanna force him,” Shanks paused, and Buggy’s heart paused along with him. “I know it seems silly to pretend for so long, but I want him to be happy.”

“It’s alright, Captain,” Benn soothed, huffing a laugh. “I guess it’s hard not to act silly around a silly clown.”

Buggy was going to be sick. 

“Hey now, Buggy’s not just a silly clown,” Shanks chuckled, his voice piercing right through Buggy’s unpierceable heart. “He’s my silly clown.”

~~~⏰🤡🤡🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

Just a joke. I’m always just a fucking joke.

Buggy didn’t know what he was packing. He didn’t seem to be packing at all, since everything in their cabin carried stupid memories.

Not our cabin. It’s the captain’s cabin. Just the Captain, and his silly clown. 

“Fuck!”

The clown berated himself silently, hating the thought of the crew hearing his pathetic cries, and judging him even more. He swallowed the lump in his throat while he tried to focus on packing, but he got too focused, letting out a yelp when the door opened, and his least favorite red head stepped in with worry on his face.

“Hey, Bugs,” Shanks started, icy fear pouring through his veins at the sight of that half full bag of clothes on the bed. “What’s going on, baby?”

“Baby,” Buggy seethed, unable to hold it in. “Don’t you mean, ‘your silly clown?’ That’s what everyone thinks I am, right?”

Shanks felt his stomach drop, like he was standing at the edge of a cliff. Buggy hadn’t looked this angry since…

“Buggy, please,” he reached out, his boyfriend’s body floating away too fast for him to touch. “It was just a joke.”

Fuck. Why did I say that?

“Just a joke, just like me, huh,” Buggy laughed, sharp and wrong. “Buggy’s just a clown, so silly, so useless! All I’m good for is being YOURS, and I can’t even do that right!”

“No, Bugs,” Shanks begged, his body glued to the spot while he tried to wake up. “It’s nothing, okay? You know Benn, he can be so serious. Don’t let it—“

“Don’t tell me what to do,” the clown spat, stuffing more random items into his bag. “I’m not a member of your crew. I wasn’t pretending about that. What else were you pretending, baby? Was everything a fucking joke to you?”

“Fuck, no! Buggy, please stop,” Shanks pleaded with stinging eyes as he tried to pull the bag away, floating hands dragging it to the corner of the ceiling. “It’s not a big deal, okay? I promise, it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care what anyone else thinks!”

Buggy felt too many things at once. His body ached to collapse to the floor, to weep, to apologize for being such a stupid piece of shit. He wanted to beg Shanks to forgive him, to let him stay forever.

He wanted to scream, and rage, and tear this whole fucking ship down. To make everyone that thought he was a joke burn, to show them how fucking silly he could be.

Anything to kill the suffocating humiliation that crushed him more with every memory, every moment he stayed on this ugly boat. 

Since he couldn’t do any of those things, Buggy kept packing, trying to close the bag while he ignored the worthless tears ruining his makeup. 

Soft brown eyes trapped him then. Shanks finally caught him by the shoulders, his face blotchy with panic while he begged.

“Bugs, please! Baby, just listen.”

“I will,” Buggy threatened, pulling the rest of his body back together while he shook off Shanks’ hold. “Seems like captains only listen to their first mates, so I’m gonna go find mine.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.”

The clown shouldered past the red haired pirate, but his gloved hand hesitated on the doorknob. He almost stopped. He almost stayed. 

Until it all slammed into him again. 

“You think I’m a fucking joke—“

“Buggy, I never—“

“Don’t underestimate me, Red Hair. Next time we meet, we’re enemies.”

Buggy didn’t turn back, didn’t wait, didn’t think. He just left that boat, setting off to find his first mate. 

He fought every memory, every thought, every burning ache in his chest while he floated along, his feet running behind him in the sand. 

All he could think about was his future. 

Fuck all of them! It’s my time to shine.

Shanks watched his clown leave again. He wanted to scream his name, to run after him, but he couldn’t move.

Couldn’t feel anything but the weight of unsaid words.

None of those other words matter, Buggy. Why didn’t you listen to me?

Why did you leave over a few stupid words? You have to know…

As that blue hair finally floated out of sight, fear won out over everything else at the thought of Buggy all alone out there, yet it planted a disgusting hope inside his heart. 

Shanks let himself look at that twisted hope for just a moment before shoving it down, along with as much of this pain as he could manage.

You’ll come back. I’m here for you, Bugs. Always. You’ll be back. 

I’ll protect you from this cruel world.

~~~⏰🔴🤡⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

Buggy was glowing on that stage, and Shanks had to bring himself back. Remember his mission. 

It’ll be my fault if she leaves, and has to suffer out there all alone. I should have been careful. I should have listened. 

If I’d listened back then, Buggy would have stayed with me. He wouldn’t have gone off all alone, and ended up with these monsters. It’s my fault he’s…

Buggy couldn’t let Y/N leave. Little pieces of her were shining behind her eyes again tonight, spurring him on. He needed to listen to her, to make sure she knew he loved her. 

Guilt and worry tried to take over, but the spotlight always healed all wounds. Even the fears he had about his “executives” seemed like nothing now, and their strange, small smiles felt almost soothing whenever they caught eyes. 

“Care to lend me a hand with the party favors, Mr. President?”

Buggy didn’t look at Shanks when he dropped the papers on his table, grinning at Cedrick Sylvad instead. The red haired emperor snatched up one of the mock posters to have something to think about besides his own guilt, only to be reminded of the ugliness that was happening here. 

Distaste and disgust were followed quickly by shame. He’d known what his lovers were up to. 

I’m being a hypocrite again, aren’t I?

Buggy felt on fire on stage with Crocodile, the feeling of playing the crowd like this had him high, even with everything else going on. Yet he still had to fight to keep his eyes away from that red haired pirate, pretending his old friend was just a guest, even though he was dying to see the look on Shanks' face while he performed. It had always been one of his favorite sights. 

For a split second after Crocodile called for the real party favor, Buggy worried about what Y/N would think, but he shook it off with ease.

My girl’s so smart. She knows who I am, and she loves me anyway. I’ll show her I love her too.

The bound and gagged marine was dripping blood onto the stage. Shanks couldn’t stop himself from glancing back toward his golden eyed lover, still seated at the head table. “The Marine Hunter” scowled down at the stage over his glass of wine, and Shanks looked away quickly before Cedrick could catch him looking toward his niece.

They're gonna execute an unarmed man. This is wrong. I can’t let Buggy…

He hated every piece of himself that felt like he was right. 

Red Haired Shanks’ beliefs had crashed down around him, and his mind was scrambling to build things back up, to figure out what he truly valued, and what had only fed his ego. 

How many marines have I killed? Can I really judge them? Am I just trying to feel superior? 

Even if it’s wrong, I’m the one that hurt Buggy. He wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t pushed him away. 

Or maybe this cursed island has turned me into a monster too...

Questions, justifications, and doubts stormed within him, leaving nothing but acceptance, since he didn’t have enough time for this existential crisis.

Nothing else matters. I can’t let Buggy lose her.

“Guess it's time for the finale,” Crocodile smirked, holding his hook to the marine’s throat.

Shanks looked away from the unarmed man, selfishly choosing to enjoy the sight of his beautiful clown for as long as he could. 

~~~🔴🤡🔴🤡~~~

~~~~~~

Pride warmed your chest when you saw the way your little smile affected the villain on the stage. Crocodile was about to kill someone in front of you, and it should have felt horrible, terrifying. You weren’t reveling in it, so that was something, but your lack of reaction proved that you were either a monster, or you were crazy.

Probably both.

You managed to turn your sick laugh into a polite cough, although Mihawk still turned to you with something almost like fear in those deadly eyes. Shaking your head, you held your breath at the sound of vultures hissing for their next meal.

“Let’s hear what he has to say for himself!”

“Think he’ll apologize for being such a nuisance?”

“Ooh, I’ve always wanted to hear someone’s last words!”

“Why not,” Crocodile shrugged, using his hook to tear the gag from the marine’s mouth.

Buggy stepped closer to the wheel to squeeze the man’s cheeks, blood and drool dripping down from snarling lips. 

“Time for your fifteen minutes of fame,” Buggy announced, leaving his hands to hold the struggling man’s face toward the crowd while he stepped away to show him off. He smirked at the leeches, winking while he gave a mock whisper. “If he lasts that long, anyway.”

The disgust you felt for the guests' bloodlust didn’t carry over to you or your lovers. You loved watching Buggy play them so well. 

Even if the unlucky man had to die.

“Captain Tront, Mr. Extra Special Party Favor! Got any last words for us,” Buggy called out, nodding toward the band for a drum roll to start while the marine spit more blood onto the floor. 

“You think you’ll get away with this,” he choked out, eyeing the esteemed guests. “You’re risking all your wealth, your reputations, on these freaks?”

Buggy and Crocodile chuckled, and the laughter spread through the hall as the vultures watched the desperate man fall apart. 

“You’ll regret this! You’ll all regret throwing yourselves in with these pirate scum! The Cross Guild, and their overpriced whore–”

Little gasps and screams filled the air, just like when the performers had shown off their dangerous acts. Some nervous laughter bubbled up, until applause built, quiet at first, but soon there were leeches on their feet, cheering for your deadly lovers. 

Captain Tront’s lifeless body slumped in his restraints, bright red blood spilling like a fresh coat of paint for the wheel. Buggy had gotten the man first, his floating hands snapping the marine’s neck just before Crocodile’s hook tore out his throat. 

You’d known that they were going to kill this man, but this was different. 

They had killed this man for you. 

Crocodile nodded toward you, and you realized that you weren’t at all surprised by his swift violence.  

Yet, your sweet, lovely clown had snapped that man’s neck in an instant, just for insulting you. That sweet, lovely clown should have been lost in the applause, the spotlight, the praise, but he didn’t seem to notice any of it.

Buggy beamed at you as though you were his standing ovation, his spotlight, his thunderous applause. This wicked, dangerous clown that just murdered a man was smiling at you while the blood was still warm and spreading across the stage.

You smiled back.

~~~~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: Writing this one was extra special to me. I hope that I did Shuggy justice, and that you enjoyed this chapter! I'm including a little Shuggy flashback age timeline below:

Shuggy Flashback Timeline: (Shanks and Buggy are adorably the same age) - Roger's Execution ~ (age 15) - First time meeting after the execution, and Buggy starts sailing with the Red Hair Pirates ~ (age 19) - Flashback smut from Chapter 23 ~ (between 19-21) - Breakup, and Buggy leaving the Red Hair Pirates to start his own crew ~ (age 21) - Present Day ~ (age 39)

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97

Part 26

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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[oureuphoria]

The Battle — JJK

⟿ Note: Hiii!! I know it’s been forever since I’ve posted on this account, and I am very sorry! I’m in uni now and my writing has improved (in my opinion) drastically, so I’m very excited to return bc I love posting here. To kick off the new era, I’m sharing a small fic I’ve worked on recently. I really hope you like it.

⟿ Synopsis: Your relationship with Jungkook has been strained for far too long and you’ve decided to do something about it.

⟿ Genre: Just angst, sorry </3 but possible part two!!

⟿ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Reader

⟿ Word count: 1,387

“Jungkook.” You called out to your boyfriend the second you heard the door to his apartment open. You were supposed to hang out together, you’d been waiting for him for over 40 minutes.

“Yes, babe?” From his sing-song voice, you could tell he was tipsy.

“We need to talk.” You were aiming for a serious, sobering tone, but it appeared nothing could dull his vibe when he got it going,

“‘Course, love. Not now though, I’m busy. Just getting changed and heading out with the boys.”

“But you said we’d have tonight together.”

“I know baby, but we always celebrate big wins together. You know you’re welcome to join us.” Jungkook knew very well that you were still really nervous around his bandmates. You specifically asked for some time alone.

“But we need to talk and it can’t wait.” Your voice was unwavering, but you could feel the resolve you’d spent so long building up begin to slip away.

It was hard to fight with Jungkook. It was harder when he didn’t fight with you.

“What? Are you okay?” His voice resonated throughout the apartment from your bedroom to where you were sitting in the living room.

“No, Jungkook. I’m not.” There was a moment of silence.

“What’s wrong, are you sick?” His head peaked out from the room, harbouring slight concern on his otherwise bright face.

“No, it’s about us.” You averted eye contact, unable to watch the happiness drain from his face.

“That can wait.” He went back into the room, and you could feel your frustration return.

“I’ve been waiting, but you’re always busy and I can’t wait anymore.”

“Can I not have one night? One night where you’re not on my ass about everything?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Y/N, we fight every week.”

“And I want to talk about it.” He came out of the room, fully dressed in his favourite jeans and a tight black turtleneck sweater. A month ago, this would’ve been the part where you joked about him looking like that one picture of The Rock. Now it just made you wonder how many people would throw themselves at him, and just how many he’d reject before he’d finally realise you might not be worth the trouble.

“No, see you say you want to talk and then it turns into you making me feel like shit for living my life.” Jungkook continued arguing with you while pacing around the apartment looking for his keys, his wallet, his sunglasses.

“That’s not my intention.” You stood up from your seat on the couch, but he continued to avoid looking at you.

“Your intention doesn’t matter, your actions do. And right now, I’d really love it if you didn’t start a fight.”

“Fine, if that’s what you really want.”

“Great. I’ll see you later.”

You sighed. “You won’t.”

“Stop with the dramatics, Y/N.”

“No dramatics, I’m done. We’re done.” You weren’t sure how you managed to get the words out, considering the fact that they felt like shards of glass dragging across your tongue.

“Seriously?” He looked at you, one hand on the door knob, the other by his side.

You thought about taking it back for way too long, and when you said nothing, he shook his head, letting out a sardonic chuckle.

“Alright, Y/N. We’re done.” And with those parting words, he was out the door.

You sat back down on his couch. Tears were flooding your eyes, and you could feel the pressure on your chest, affirming the end you saw coming but tried so hard to avoid.

You could have continued begging for a morsel of his time to work things out, but as he said, he viewed any and all criticism as an infringement on his right to party and celebrate his success.

You were the same age, but you lived vastly different lives and you had no idea how to reconcile the gap between the Jungkook who loved you, and the Jungkook who was in the public eye. There was only one you. You didn’t have a second life, and that was what made it so hard to relate to him.

He didn’t even want to try.

You wiped away your tears, grabbing your coat and bag from the armchair. You had one arm through the sleeves when the door opened again.

For the split second that you heard the keypad beep and the door’s hinges creak, you allowed yourself to be filled with hope. He came back, and in that moment you let yourself believe that it was for you. That he’d tell you he can’t live without you, and whatever there was going on between you two, he’d be willing to fix it.

But you and him hadn’t felt partners in so long, and the problems you used to tackle together, as an inseparable unit, began to feel like termites eating through the foundation of your trust.

“Oh, you’re still here.” His voice didn’t sound remorseful. It didn’t sound like the voice of a man who was prepared to lay the ugliest parts of your relationship bare so that you could work through them. He sounded indifferent.

“Yeah sorry, I was just leaving.” You quickly shrugged the coat on properly, grabbing your bag and hastily rushing toward the door, but Jungkook was blocking the doorway, and he didn’t move away when you approached. “Um, Jungkook, you’re kind of in the way.” You tried your absolute hardest to keep your voice level and your tears at bay, but the longer he stood there the harder it was.

“I am, aren’t I?” His tone was so hard to read, you had no idea how to respond. “I’m always in your way, Y/N. And a better man would let you go, but I can’t.”

Before you could grasp onto his words, he grasped onto you. Jungkook wrapped you into a tight hug.

“Don’t do this, Jungkook. Please.”

“I don’t know what to do, Y/N. I feel so guilty, all the time. I don’t know how it fix it, so I go out, and I get wasted and I convince myself you’re happier without me.” He sounded so vulnerable, so bare, and for a moment you saw your pain reflected in his.

How could you fix it? There was only so much turbulence a relationship could take, and the strain on your own mental health was beginning to feel like less of a side-effect and more like a direct bi-product.

Sometimes, the best way to get rid of termites is to burn it all down and pray you have the strength to rebuild.

You weren’t sure of much, but you were sure that you weren’t strong enough to rebuild.

“I’m not happier without you, Jungkook. But lately I haven’t been feeling happier with you either. I love you, you know that, but I can’t keep pretending like it doesn’t hurt me when you pretend I don’t exist. And I know the only other option is to go public, but I don’t think I could cope with that kind of attention.”

“I could say I’m in a relationship and we could keep your identity secret. I’ve seen other idols do that.”

“Idols much less famous than you, Jungkook. Its unfair of me to expect you to carry the burden of the negative attention you’d inevitably get.”

“What are you saying?”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough. And I can’t watch as we tear ourselves apart trying to make each other feel better.”

“Y/N, I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“Me neither, but I think we have a much better chance of figuring out how to live apart than together, don’t you?”

“I— I could take a break from the group until we figure this out.”

“You’d resent me for it.”

“You can’t give up on us just like that?”

“You gave up a long time ago, Jungkook.” There was no hostility in your voice, so Jungkook knew you weren’t trying to hurt him with that remark. In fact, the sincerity of what you’d said, and the tears that began to flood your eyes and his, told him you might just be right.

So, without another word, Jungkook moved out of the doorway and watched as you gave him a tight-lipped smile before walking away.

[swarvey]

how they would propose | sdv bachelors x g/n!reader | part two

-> summary: in game, the farmer is always the one to present the mermaid's pendant to their lover — what if it was the other way around?

pt. 1

a/n: here are the rest of the boys! i'll do the bachelorettes next, i might do all of them in one post. sorry for the slow updates y'all <3

harvey

wants it to be a completely special, private moment between the two of you

he knows how prone he is to getting overly anxious about moments like this, so he prepares months beforehand

if there is one thing in life he refuses to mess up, it's his proposal to you

and what's more flawless than tying everything back to the start?

harvey smiles as he watches your eyes grow big, following the sun as it steadily heads for the horizon. the hot air balloon rises into the sky slowly, to his relief — a little extra time to prepare never hurts.

a couple seasons ago, on a rainy, fall day, harvey had told you he had some errands to run before heading down to the beach. he'd been slightly shocked to actually see the old mariner standing there in the rain, despite the speculations that had always circled around town. despite the fact he was apparently a ghost, he had actually been patient with harvey, answering all of his questions with wisdom and guidance.

after nearly two hours of standing under his umbrella, harvey had finally made up his mind, handing a small bag of coins to the old mariner in exchange for the pendant.

"took ya long enough," the older man huffed as he handed the necklace over.

now, harvey waits until the air balloon is higher up in the sky before gently reaching for your hand. you look at him, a small smile on your lips.

"are you enjoying this as much as the first time i brought you up here?" he asks sweetly.

"maybe a little more," you admit, looking over the side again. "i was a bit nervous coming up here in the first place, you know, and seeing you all stiff and anxious didn't help."

"you can hardly blame me!" he laughs. "my fear of heights is deathly, i only did it because you were there with me."

"yeah? and how about now?"

"well, nothing's changed, has it?" he squeezes your hand, looking down at your intertwined fingers. "you're still here."

"i am."

when his eyes meet yours again, he feels warmth bloom across his chest — the setting sunlight seems to make you glow, and he suddenly feels unstoppable.

you squint at him, trying to read his face. "you know," you start softly, "you have the same look on your face as you did back then."

"i do?"

"yeah, you do." you pause, watching as his other hand reaches for his pocket. "harvey, are you—"

"y/n," he interrupts, "that day, when the two of us were up here for the first time, i felt something i never did before — i felt brave, strong. i never thought i was capable of feeling that way, but you proved me wrong, as you always seem to do, and i can only hope i make you feel at least somewhat the same way." he inhales deeply, feeling his face burn red as he takes out his hand from this pocket and opens his fist, the mermaid's pendant gleaming in the light.

"harvey," you breathe, rendered speechless as your eyes widen even more than before.

"you mean the world to me and more, honey," he says quietly, and you can hear the tears he's holding back. "i promise i will do everything in my power to make you as happy as you've made me, so please . . .

"will you marry me?"

after a beat, you let go of his hand, and harvey's heart drops.

then, you grab the necklace and pull it over your head, watching as it shines against your neck.

"yes, harvey," you answer, smiling widely up at him. "the answer has always been a yes."

tears finally fall from his face as he gently kisses you, resting his forehead against yours before pulling you to his chest.

"thank you," he whispers. "i promise, i won't let you down."

you laugh. "this isn't a business contact, you know."

"i know, i know, it's just . . ." he grabs your hand again, pressing a firm kiss on the back of it. "you've already done so much for me, dear," he says, the sun finally dipping beneath the mountains.

"it's time for me to return the favor."

sam

bought it like a week ago since it happened to be raining and he was on the beach

i mean, you'll say yes, right? there's no reason for you not to. so why should he be nervous? he's not nervous at all. not one bit.

at least, that's what he keeps telling himself as he keeps scheduling a bunch of dates with you, thinking there'll be a moment during one of them when he'll make his move

(the moment has yet to come, by the way)

sam slaps his face sharply as he paces around his room, continuously glancing at the clock. he honestly can't believe the pendant is still in the small pouch his mom gave him and not around your neck — her scolds after he returned home with the necklace still in his hands for the fifth time rings in his ears.

"sam, this is an important moment in both of your lives!" she had said, hands sternly placed on her hips. "you can't keep making these plans, just to avoid them at the last second because you're scared. you need to go show them how much you love them, properly!"

he shivers. his mom rarely ever yells at him, so he knows she must have been serious. how was i supposed to know proposing would be this scary?

after realizing he was due to meet you in a few minutes, sam rushedly left his home, heading towards the park where he told you to meet him. he smiles as he sees you sitting on the swing, but before he can get a word out, you're standing up and walking to him, face scrunched in worry.

"sam, is everything alright?" you ask, fidgeting with your fingers. "i've been thinking about it, and you've been worrying me a bit."

"worrying? why?" he grabs the sides of your arms gently, tilting his head. "did i . . . do something wrong?"

"i mean, no?" you shake your head slightly, sighing. "it's just, you've been asking to do so many things, which is great! this just isn't what we normally do. i'm a little worried you're not telling me something."

"wh-what?" he stutters, huffing and shrugging his shoulders. "honestly, sweetheart, i have no idea what you're talking about, really. i mean, do i seem like the type to hide something from you?"

you stare at him blankly for a moment. then, you deflate, a twinge of sadness in your eyes.

"are you breaking up with me?" you question quietly. "is that what this is? because i'd really rather you not drag it on like this, sam—"

"whoa, whoa, what?! break up with you? are you crazy?" he half-shouts, his own heart breaking that he made you think that. "baby, no, i would never."

"i don't know what to think!" you exclaim, a sudden emotion taking over your voice. "you've been acting so odd recently, i didn't know what to think."

he shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh. guess this is what i get for not listening to mom.

"here, why don't i just show you?"

"what?"

trying his best to keep his hands from shaking, sam reaches into his back pocket, holding up the small pouch in front of you.

"you see, i, uh, have been trying to figure out the right way to give you this," he finally admits, running his other hand through his hair nervously. "every time we went out together, i thought i would figure it out, but i guess i couldn't. i'm sorry for worrying you, y/n, i really am — i hope you can forgive me, though, or else i seriously have no idea what i'll do with this."

you open your mouth to question him once more, but before you can ask, he opens the pouch and lets the mermaid's pendant fall into the palm of his hand.

"i love you so, so much, honey, more than my words can describe," he rushes passionately, voice determined as he bends his head down and lifts the pendant up. "all i know is, being with you makes everything feel new again. like, the music we listen to, the places we go, the food we eat, everything is better when i do it with you. if i'm being honest, i'm not a hundred percent sure what comes after this, but i do know that i think we'll be okay, as long as we're together." keeping his head down, mainly to hide his flushed face, sam lifts the necklace even higher. "i guess what i'm asking is, will you marry me, y/n?"

sam feels your hand cup his chin to tip his face back up, revealing to him your watery eyes and pink cheeks.

"of course i'll marry you, sam, that's all you had to ask," you say, laughing lightly.

he stands up straight suddenly, whooping and throwing his arms in the air before picking you up and spinning you around. after putting you down, he hastily puts the pendant around your neck and kisses you, feeling your hand entangle itself in his hair as he pulls you close.

"you're such a dork," you tease after pulling away. "what were you so nervous about?"

"what were you so nervous about?" he fires back, crossing his arms and raising a brow. "did you seriously think i would break up with you?"

"like you gave me a reason to believe otherwise! when have we ever gone on dates for an entire week straight? we usually just sit in your room!"

"hey, we do more stuff than that!"

you look at each other in annoyance for a moment before bursting into laughter. unbeknownst to the two of you, abigail and sebastian had seen the whole thing as they were passing by, looking at each other in amusement as they continue toward the town.

"they sound like a married couple already," seb grumbles, and abigail laughs.

"just shows they were meant to be."

sebastian

similar to harvey, he wants his proposal to be for your eyes only, so he decides to do it while the two of you are alone at the lake near his house

determined to do the whole thing by himself, but his mom ends up seeing the jewelry in his room

got the pendant the last summer, it’s the start of spring now

(he’s spent every night since then falling asleep with it in his hands)

sebastian waits for you anxiously near the edge of the water, looking at the pendant in his hand. part of him still can’t believe this is his reality — someone like him, getting married? he scoffs, covering the jewelry with his fist and looking out towards the lake. the water shines under the moonlight, soothing his heart just a bit.

“seb!”

just like that, his sense of peace is gone, blood rushing to his face as he turns to greet you. he smiles softly; you’re wearing one of the coats he gave you since it didn’t end up fitting him properly. he always thought you’ve looked good in his clothes.

“hey,” he greets, hugging you to his side and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “how was your day?”

“a bit busy,” you sigh, melting into his arm. “spring always jumps on me before i know it.” he hums, subconsciously pulling you closer as he plans out his next words. “how about you? everything okay?”

“hm? yeah, ‘course,” he replies, the necklace clutched tightly in his hand. “just . . . couldn’t sleep that well, is all.”

“why? are you feeling okay?” you ask worriedly, turning to face him.

“stop worrying.” he pokes your forehead, pushing you lightly. he huffs a laugh at your frown. “i had some stuff on my mind.”

“like what?”

like his mom’s advice. seb chews his lip as he quickly thinks back to what his mom had said after finding the necklace lying on his desk.

“this is a serious decision, seb,” she’d said, sitting with him in his room. “you’re sure you want this?”

“of course i am,” he’d retorted sharply. he’s always been a bit defensive over you. “why wouldn’t i?”

she’d sighed, smiling at him warmly. “that’s not what i meant. i’m over the moon about this, i am, i just want to make sure you understand what marriage means.” she paused, lightly placing a hand over his. he’d let her, just that once. “promise me you won’t treat it lightly, okay? they deserve the world, you know that.”

seb smiles slightly. though he’ll never admit it, he’s glad his mom spoke to him.

“about you, actually,” he replies. “i’ve been thinking about you a lot recently.”

“oh yeah? am i that hard to resist?” you say jokingly.

he rolls his eyes, but doesn’t disagree. instead, he calmly shows you the necklace in his hand, silently reading your reaction. your eyes widen, darting between the pendant and his face.

“i’ve never met anyone like you, y/n,” he finally says, swallowing thickly after hearing how shaky his voice has gotten. “you know it’s never been easy for me to open up to people, but it never really felt that way with you. you always seem to know what to say, no matter what i talk to you about. i mean, seriously, i don’t really get it still, but i do know it would be stupid of me to let someone like you go.”

“as if i were going anywhere,” you say, voice watery and quiet.

he gently grabs one of your hands, intertwining your fingers.

“well, now i know i’ve got you all to myself,” he replies amusedly. “i’ll take that as a yes?”

laughing, you lightly push him away. “you didn’t even ask me!”

“fine, fine— y/n, will you do me the highest honors and stay by my side for the rest of—“

“alright, stop, stop! you ass.” he laughs as you smack his arm, feigning hurt before grinning. “i could say no, you know.”

“yeah, sure you could, sweetheart.” he places the necklace around you and uses it to pull you to him once more, wrapping an arm around you to kiss you lovingly, the moon brightly shining down on the two of you, as if it approves.

“i’m sure you could.”

[asimpforthe80s]

Found You, Andrei

Starring: Nikto x bestfriend!Reader

Warnings: mentions of: torture, going to the gulag, and Russian speaking. Smut: Reader riding him, unprotected p in v, and stroking his cock.

"I'm going on a mission," he said softly and leaned against the railing of the bridge, the dark and cold, murky waters of the Neva reflected in his pale blue eyes. He didn't explain anything — as usual because of his never-ending top secret assignments — but his words sounded like a death sentence this time.

"I won't be able to keep in touch for quite some time. I'll text you on your old number when I get back. Don't throw it away, рыбка."

He smiled faintly at you, trying to cheer you up a little when he saw an anxiety in your eyes. He squeezed your palm, putting a small photo card into it: there was an image of the two of you, smiling carelessly under a snow-covered scarlet mountain-ash. "You'll wait for me, won't you?" It was the last time you saw him.

You nervously smoothed out the crumpled corner of a worn photo, waiting for the next landing. The image faded a long time ago, but this is the only memento that was left of your dear friend. 6 years. 6 long years of searching, sleepless nights, smoked cigarettes, and endless stress. You've lost all your friends and family, sold all your possessions, and learned how to hold a gun. You have transferred from one PMC to another and visited, perhaps, every God-forsaken corner of the world. Hell, you even ended up in the Gulag, thinking that he was there, and managed to escape, taking advantage of the turmoil due to the escape of some crazy guy named Makarov. Now, you are one of the operators of the Shadow Company. You are stripped of your previous life completely, your ID is fake, and you don't even know if your dear friend is still alive. There's only a small bit of hope smoldering inside you.

Doing an intelligence mission, you split from the rest of the group to search through the abandoned gas factory. You ran into Nikto when you were storming a building. He now wore a mask, but you immediately recognized his icy blue eyes. It was your dear friend, your Andrei ... But he looked very changed. He was... Different.. Damaged… Broken.

"Nikto.." you said, instantly hugging him without caring about the danger signs in your head. The hug was unexpected, but not unwanted. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, like they remembered how to do it despite everything. But he pulled away quickly, almost roughly, as if afraid that you'd see something in his face. Or maybe just afraid of feeling something.

"You shouldn't be here." His voice was cold, detached. Yet, there was a hint of something else underneath, a flicker of warmth that made you wonder if it was real or just your imagination. "Go back to the others."

His hand reached out to push you gently, but there was no force behind it. Just a silent plea for you to leave before things got worse. Before he hurt you. "Nikto, you're coming with me." You said roughly, a complete contrast to the you he knew. "I'm not letting you disappear for 6 years only to find you and leave you again." You growled, grabbing his hand. "Nyet..." Nikto started to protest, but the grip on his hand was firm. A shiver went down his spine at the sound of your voice - it was different. Rougher. Harder. Not the soft, gentle voice he was used to hearing. But there was something else too - a hint of demand, of command.

And then he felt the hand on his, firm and unyielding. And he knew. He knew that this was it. That whatever wall he had built around himself was about to come crashing down. And he was terrified. But he also couldn't bring himself to pull away. Because despite everything, he needed this. Needed you. "You can take that new fucking attitude and burn it in hell.." you whispered as you started dragging him with you, taking him to your team. The roughness in your voice, the way you dragged him along, it was all so unlike you. But there was something about it that stirred something deep within him. Something primal and raw. As if a part of him was waking up after years of slumber.

"Nyet!" He protested again, but it came out more like a growl. He let you drag him, his body moving automatically as he followed you towards the others. But his mind was screaming at him, telling him to stop. Telling him that this wasn't right. That he should stay hidden, stay safe. But the feel of your hand on his, the sound of your voice, it was too much. Too compelling. "ты пойдешь со мной, хочешь ты этого или нет, Никто." You said, speaking his native language, 'you will come with me whether you like it or not, Nikto'.

The harshness of your words, spoken in his mother tongue, hit him like a punch to the gut. It was like a key turning in a lock, unlocking doors he thought he had sealed off forever. For a moment, he stood there, frozen, staring at you with wide, unblinking eyes.

Then, slowly, he nodded. He didn't know why he was agreeing to this. Didn't know why he was following you. All he knew was that he had to. Had to be with you. Even if it meant risking everything.

"Da..." He finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "Я... я хочу с тобой." He said, 'I... I want to be with you. You nodded. "Good.. cause I'm not letting you leave again, lyubimaya." The word 'lyubimaya', which translated to 'beloved', hit him like a punch to the stomach. It was a word he hadn't heard in years. Years of pain and torment had erased any semblance of love from his life. And yet, there it was. Coming from you. And it wasn't just in your tone, but in your touch. Your grip on his hand was almost possessive, as if you were staking your claim on him.

"Lyubimaya?" He repeated the word, tasting it on his lips. It was bitter but not unpleasant. For some reason, it made him want to lean into your touch instead of pulling away. "Yes, lyubimaya.." You repeated, taking him inside your team's extraction helicopter. The interior of the helicopter was warm and cozy compared to the cold outside. There was a sense of camaraderie among the men, a bond that could only be formed through shared experiences and dangers. Seeing you among them, giving orders, made his heart swell with pride. You belonged here. You were meant to be leading these men, not stuck in some office job.

As he sat next to you, he felt a strange sense of contentment wash over him. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. Maybe never. And for some reason, it scared him. "когда мы вернемся на базу, ты поешь, а потом мы пойдем в мое общежитие. ты займешь мою постель без разговоров." You said, telling him that when you got back to base, he was gonna eat, go back to your dorm, and take your bed without discussion. The words hung in the air between them, heavy and laden with meaning. His post. His bed. You were claiming him. Marking him as yours in front of everyone. And for some reason, it thrilled him. Excited him.

"Dа..." He murmured, nodding slowly. "Я... я буду делать так, как ты сказала." He would do as you said. Without question. Without hesitation. Because in that moment, he would do anything for you. "Good, Andrei.." You mumbled, saying his real name. The use of his real name hit him like a punch to the gut. Andrei. A name he hadn't heard in years. A name that was as foreign to him now as if it were another language entirely. Yet, hearing it fall from your lips sent a shiver down his spine. A good shiver. One that made his heart race and his breath hitch.

"Andrei..." He echoed, testing the word on his tongue. It felt strange. Heavy. But also comforting. Like coming home after a long journey. "You're safe with us.." you said, still not letting go of his hand. Your words hit him like a bolt of lightning, searing through the fog of his mind and touching something deep within him. Safe. You were saying he was safe. With you. With your team.

The idea was so alien to him, so foreign, that for a moment, he couldn't comprehend it. Couldn't believe it. But then, he felt it. The tension easing from his shoulders. The tight knot in his stomach loosened. He was safe. Here. With you. "Now.. let me see you.." you murmured, reaching for his mask. Your fingers brushed against his mask, and for a moment, he tensed up. But then, he realized that you weren't going to hurt him. That you wouldn't do anything to harm him. So, he let out a slow breath and closed his eyes. He waited. Waited for the pain. Waited for the fear. But it never came. Instead, all he felt was your gentle touch. And it was... nice. Comforting. Almost soothing. As you took off his mask, you saw the many, many scars of his previous torture. Placing a soft hand on his cheek, you tried to assure him that he was safe and no one would hurt him. At least no one from your base. "Oh, Andrei.." you whispered softly in that voice he knew. Not in that rough and demanding voice he heard earlier. Your touch was soft, almost reverential as you traced the scars on his face. Each line and mark told a story of pain and suffering. But they didn't scare you. They didn't make you flinch away. They made you care. And that care...it was overwhelming. It was too much. Too intense. But at the same time, it was exactly what he needed.

"Oh, Andrei..." The way you said his name. It was like a caress. A promise. A vow. It was a name that held so much weight. So much meaning. And hearing it from your lips was... intoxicating. "любовь моя.. тебе больно.. столько шрамов.. дорогая.." you mumbled, pulling him in for a hug he so desperately needed. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. The warmth of your body against his own was like a balm to his soul. It was comforting. Reassuring. It was something he craved. Needed. Desperately.

"Да..." He agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Больно... Больно много." It hurt. A lot. But as you held him, he found himself relaxing. Letting go of the fear. Of the pain. Just for a moment. "And that's okay.. A... Andrei.." you whispered with a soft stutter, taking off your own mask, discarding it on the floor along with his. Your mask hitting the floor brought him back to reality. Back to the harshness of their situation. But seeing you discard your mask too...it meant something. It meant trust. Loyalty. Friendship. Family. All things he'd been denied for so long.

"Da..." He nodded, finally opening his eyes to look at you. Really look at you. No mask. No disguise. Just you. His friend. His family. You were crying.. but.. matching. The both of you had so many scars. "Just like we used to.. we're matching.." You cried. Your tears stung his eyes, but he didn't blink. Didn't flinch. He just stood there, soaking in the sight of you. Of your tears. Of your scars. Matching. Just like old times. Only now, it wasn't just physical scars. It was emotional ones, too. Scars from the past. From the pain. From the loss.

"But why?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why are we like this? Why did we have to become this?" You chuckled, drying your tears. "I wanted to find you.. I got desperate.. so I joined the same shit you did.. even went to the fucking gulag.." you cried. Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. Gulag. Fucking gulag. That place was hell on earth. And you went there. For him. Because you were desperate. Because you wanted to find him. Him. The monster that was Nikto.

"And you found me..." He muttered, feeling an odd mix of emotions. Pride. Relief. Fear. Guilt. All swirling around inside him like a storm. "I- I searched so many places.. и я наконец нашел тебя.." you said. Your words echoed in his mind. I finally found you. Those words were like a balm to his broken soul. A sign that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't alone anymore. That someone cared enough to look for him. To risk everything to find him.

"I'm sorry..." He muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sorry for dragging you into this mess." You chuckled as you cried. "No, no, it's nothing.." you said. Your chuckle was like a slap in the face. It was unexpected. Unexpectedly human. Unexpectedly real. And it pissed him off. Made him angry. Angry at himself. Angry at the world. Angry at fate. But mostly, angry at himself for bringing you into this nightmare.

"No, it's not nothing," he growled, his voice low and gruff. "It's everything." You sighed. "Andrei.. it was worth it.. so many missions.. willingly going to the fucking gulag.. getting abducted and tortured during a mission.. fuck.. it was all for you.." you said. Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. Tortured. Abducted. Willingly going to the gulag. All for him. For the monster that he'd become.

"Я не достоин этого," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. 'I am not worthy of this.' You shook your head. "No, you are.. it was worth it.. cause I found you.." Your denial was like a knife twisting in his gut. Found me. Those words echoed in his mind. Over and over again. Like a mantra. Like a prayer. They were soothing. Comforting. They made him feel less alone. Less like a monster.

But they also filled him with guilt. With shame. With regret. Regret for turning you into this. For making you go through all of this. You hugged him once more. But this time it was more for your sake. You needed him just as much as he needed you. Your hug was like a lifeline. It pulled him out of the darkness. Out of the abyss. Even if only for a moment. It felt good. Too good. Dangerous almost.

But still, he allowed himself to enjoy it. To let himself be comforted. Because sometimes, you need to be weak. To let yourself be vulnerable. Especially when you've been hurt as much as he had.

The silence hung heavy in the air. Heavy with unspoken words. Unspoken regrets. Unspoken fears. It was comfortable. Almost peaceful. Almost. His thoughts kept drifting back to those moments. Moments where he was just... human. Not a monster. Not a killer. Just a man. A man who was scared. Who was lonely. Who missed someone. Someone who was sitting next to him right now. The silence was comforting. Familiar. The two of you were sitting on your bed, still in full uniform. "Want something more comfortable?" You asked quietly. Your offer hung in the air between them, a beacon of normalcy amidst the chaos. A simple question. An invitation to shed the weight of their uniforms, symbols of duty, and responsibility. He looked down at his clothes, then back up at you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"Da," he murmured, standing up abruptly. He began to undress, peeling away the layers of his identity - the uniform, the medals, the badges. Each piece was thrown carelessly onto the floor until he stood before you in nothing but his underwear. You nodded and went to get something more comfortable for him. Coming back, you had an oversized t-shirt and a paid of sweatpants. Which reminded him of something.. fuck. Those were his clothes. His clothes before he joined whatever the fuck he had joined. "Here." You said, handing him the clothes before going to change to something more comfortable, yourself. Your words were like a punch in the gut. A reminder of who he used to be. Of the life he'd left behind. He took the clothes from your hands without saying anything. Slipping into them, he could almost pretend he was back there. Back home. Before the torture. Before the nightmares. Before the pain.

As he watched you change, he couldn't help but notice how natural it seemed. How comfortable. Like you belonged here. Like you were supposed to be here. With him. A man and a woman changed together like it was normal. But it didn't seem weird. It felt normal. It felt like the time before the military. The sight of you changing in front of him, so casual and unaffected, brought back memories. Memories of simpler times. Times before the military. Before the torture. Before the nightmares. Before the pain.

For a moment, he forgot about the scars. About the pain. About the guilt. He just saw you. Naked. Vulnerable. Human. And it was beautiful. It was perfect. The feeling of the soft fabric against his skin was comforting. Familiar. It was like putting on an old pair of shoes. Worn in. Broken in. Perfectly fitting. It was a part of him. Or rather, it was a part of who he used to be. Before. Before the torture. Before the nightmares. Before the pain.

As he sat back down on the bed, he couldn't help but notice how different things were. How strange it felt. Yet, somehow, it also felt right. As you took off your shirt, he could see all the scars. Everywhere. Even your perfectly round tits had scars of torture. Your body was a canvas of pain. Every inch of your skin told a story. A story of torture. Of suffering. Of resilience. But he wasn't looking at the scars. He was looking at you. At the way your body moved. The way your muscles shifted under your skin. The way your nipples hardened slightly in the cool air of the room.

It was a fucking turn-on. Despite everything. Despite the scars. Despite the pain. You blushed as he stared at you. "What are you looking at?" You asked softly, not realizing that he was hard as a rock under the sweatpants. His gaze lingered on your body, drinking in every detail. The curve of your hips. The swell of your breasts. The way your skin glowed in the dim light of the room. He was hard. Rock-hard. But he didn't move. Didn't speak. He just kept staring.

You were beautiful. Perfect. Untouched. And he wanted you. Wanted you more than he'd ever wanted anyone or anything. You noticed his hardness pressing against the material of the sweatpants. "Fuck, Andrei..." You mumbled, biting your lower lip. Your curse made him shiver. Made him want to reach out and touch you. Made him want to take you. Right there. On the bed. Against the wall. Anywhere. Just to feel you. To hear you moan. To taste you. Fuck, to taste you.

But he didn't move. Couldn't move. Not yet. "I need you..." You whispered, closing the distance between both of you. You leaned in and kissed him softly at first, but then with passion. Your confession broke the dam. The floodgates opened. He pulled you closer, crushing his lips against yours. His tongue darted out, exploring the warmth of your mouth. His hands roamed over your body, tracing the contours of your muscles. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving marks.

And still, he didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Not now. Not when he finally had you. You moaned into his mouth as he explored your body with his hands. You pushed him onto the bed and straddled him, grinding your crotch against his hardness. The shift in positions only fueled his desire. Your weight on top of him, your body grinding against his, it was all too much. He groaned into your mouth, the sound muffled by your kiss. His hands found their way to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh.

He needed more. Needed to feel you. Needed to be inside you. His hands on your ass made you grind harder against his cock. You reached down and pulled down his pants, pulling out his hardness. You stroked it a few times, feeling it pulse in your hand. Your touch on his length made him gasp. Made him thrust up into your hand. He was hard. So fucking hard. Ready. Waiting. Wanting.

His hands found their way to your hips, gripping them tightly. He pulled you closer, aligning his length with your entrance. He was ready. More than ready. Your body was shaking with anticipation. You grinded against his cock, teasing yourself before slowly lowering yourself onto him. Inch by agonizing inch until you were fully seated on his lap. The sensation of you enveloping him was indescribable. He groaned, his head thrown back against the pillow. His hands gripped your hips tighter, guiding you to move. To ride him. To fuck him.

He was yours. All yours. You started moving on him, your body rocking against his. Each movement brought a new wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. You felt full. Satiated. Complete.

And you liked it. God, how you liked it. Each roll of your hips sent jolts of pleasure shooting straight to his dick. He couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. All he could do was feel. Feel you. Feel your body moving on top of him. Feel your walls clenching around him. Your movements became faster, more desperate. You were chasing that climax, that release. You wanted it so badly. Needed it. Craved it. His breathing grew ragged, and his grip on your hips tightened. He could feel his climax approaching, like a freight train bearing down on him. It was inevitable. Imminent.

And he wanted you to feel it. Wanted you to feel him. Your movements became erratic as your orgasm approached. You clenched your teeth, trying to hold back the tidal wave of pleasure threatening to consume you. But it was no use. It was too powerful. Too intense. "Andrei..!" You moaned as you reached your climax. Your cry of ecstasy pushed him over the edge. His own orgasm ripped through him, making his vision blur and his breath hitch. He threw his head back, his jaw clenched tight as he rode out the waves of pleasure.

And when it was over, he was left panting. Left spent. Left sated. You collapsed onto him, your body trembling from the intensity of your orgasms. You laid there, catching your breath while your body slowly returned to normal. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His body was covered in sweat, but he didn't care. He just held you. Held you tight. And for once, he felt... complete. You lay there in silence, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You snuggled against him, your body fitting perfectly against his. You closed your eyes, contentment washing over you. For once, he let himself relax. Let himself enjoy the moment. Enjoy you. His arms tightened around you instinctively, as if afraid you'd disappear if he let go. You nuzzled into his neck, inhaling deeply. His scent filled your senses, making you want to stay here forever. You felt safe. Comforted. Loved. His heart pounded in his chest, echoing in his ears. He could feel you nuzzling into his neck, could feel your breaths against his skin. And it felt... right. Perfect, even.

For once, he allowed himself to believe that maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Prompt idea: Holiday celebration get horrendously fucked (birthday, Christmas, Halloween, Passover, doesn’t matter really, dealers choice) and one of them has to comfort the other and help them through a meltdown over their favorite day getting fucked up

Happy birthday and hopefully your day isn’t as bad as you would make Ed and Stede’s!

I wasn't able to get this one edited and posted on my birthday, but it's still a precious prompt and I loved writing for it!! Here's the story of The Time That Stede Fucked Up Passover.

--

"The eleventh plague," Stede said glumly as he watched Ed open a kitchen window to air out some of the smoke, "easily misread cooking directions."

"Well, babe," Ed said over his shoulder, "I'm not sure why you thought that the oven needed to be set to 450 for brisket -"

"I misread the package, Ed," Stede snapped, trying to hide the wobble in his voice.

"Aww, no, that came out wrong." Ed, who had been poking at the smoking, thoroughly blackened brisket sitting on the stovetop to salvage for any edible parts, held out a hand for Stede to take.

Stede pretended he didn't see, looking down at his lap.

It was Stede's first Passover with Ed, and he knew it was a big deal. Ed's mama was coming over for the seder, and Stede had been trying so fucking hard to get it all right. Passover was Ed's favorite holiday! He couldn't fuck it up!

So he did all his research. He practiced reading the haggadah, the text read at the seder - even though Ed would be doing most of the reading, he wanted to be able to pronounce the prayers without asking for help and mark spots where he could raise interesting discussion or questions and (hopefully) impress Ed's mom. He'd figured out voices to use for all of Ed's plague-themed finger puppets to add a bit of levity, triple-checked what they needed for the seder plate, and he'd stressed over making sure dinner was perfect.

When the local synagogue had released sign-ups for pre-made brisket packs, of course he'd signed them up. He wasn't the greatest cook, and neither was Ed, so he figured that having the main course squared away would take a load off his mind and allow him to focus on getting the table set and ready while Ed prepared the roasted sweet potatoes, matzo ball soup, and an extra-big helping of charoset.

And now he'd fucked up his one contribution to dinner, and he hadn't even gotten the table ready, and he'd forgotten to put the wine in the fridge to chill, all because he couldn't even read the package -

"Stede, babe, you need to breathe."

Stede jerked his eyes open. He didn't even remember closing them, but now Ed was kneeling in front of him at the table. He put a gentle, calming hand on Stede's thigh, looking up at him with a small smile.

"I'm so, so sorry, Ed," Stede sighed, scrubbing at his eyes before his tears could fall. "I've ruined everything - I'm the worst boyfriend ever."

"Hey, don't talk about my boyfriend that way," Ed pretended to grumble. "You just misread the instructions. Could've happened to anyone, and you've never made brisket before, have you?"

"No," Stede admitted.

"There ya go," Ed said easily. "You do need to wear your reading glasses more often, though. Not even just saying that because I think they're hot."

"Ed," Stede snorted. "Was any of it edible?"

"Stede," Ed said solemnly, "that thing is burnt to a sizzle. It's basically a rock. It's an ex-brisket."

"Great," Stede sighed. "Your mom's going to hate me."

"She's gonna love you," Ed promised. "Wanna know how I know?"

Stede just pursed his lips.

"Because you tried," Ed said. "You tried so fucking hard."

"That doesn't change the fact that our main course is burnt beyond recognition, Ed."

"C'mon, man, get it straight." Ed rubbed a soothing little circle over Stede's kneecap. "If you think my mama is showing up here without more food than any of us can eat, you're in for a surprise."

Well. That made it a bit better.

"I'm just sorry," Stede said, his shoulders hunching inward with his guilt. "I wanted this to be the best Passover you've ever had -"

"It will be," Ed said, immediately. "Because you're here. And I love you."

"I love you, too." Stede cupped Ed's cheek in his hand, his heart swelling at the way Ed tilted his face into the contact. "Promise you're not mad?"

"Not a bit," Ed said.

Stede leaned in to kiss him, but they pulled apart when they heard a car pull into the driveway.

"The eleventh plague," Ed said cheekily, giving Stede a quick kiss on his way up. "Meeting your boyfriend's mom."

Stede shivered.

"C'mon, babe, she'll love you!" One last kiss, and Ed darted out to meet his mama before she had a chance to start trying to carry things in herself.

Stede took a deep breath, made sure no one could see him for just long enough to flip off the stupid brisket on the stove, and then he ran out to join them.

[descendant-of-truth]

Rise of Lyric has by far some of the most consistently expressive character animation of any 3D Sonic game ever, and frankly I think Frontiers should be embarrassed that it isn't at minimum on the same level as it, if not better.

Because here's the thing: RoL still looks awkward at times. Mouth shapes can feel a little weird, the eyebrows don't always seem to know what they're supposed to be doing, little things that give off the impression that it wasn't quite as polished as it wanted to be. But it's still LEAGUES above Frontiers, even with the progress it's made over other mainline games.

And look, I really can't claim to know how the models they're using work because I don't have the ability to mess around with them myself, but at this point I'm starting to wonder if they're just... not particularly stretchy by nature?? Because I can't imagine any other reason for them to be so stiff even when the animators are doing their best.

To prove my point, let's compare a very similar expression and pose of Sonic's from Frontiers and RoL respectively.

In both of these scenes, Sonic is expressing determination to fight in order to save his friends. In Frontiers, this is from the Final Horizon update, right after Amy, Tails, and Knuckles sacrificed their corporeal forms in order to bring Sonic back from corruption. Sonic is currently feeling the weight of that sacrifice full-force, lamenting that they gave up their chance at freedom for him, and uses that pain to push himself forward to really save them this time.

In Rise of Lyric, Sonic is staring down a robot army led by Metal Sonic as the door in front of them closes. He's already ushered Amy, Tails, and Knuckles behind him into a suspicious temple of sorts, but he's prepared to fight in case it doesn't close fast enough. He was told twice not to open the door in the first place, but he was concerned for his friends, and decided to prioritize protecting them over their own desires to keep fighting.

With such similar framing, it's hard not to see how Frontiers' expressions fall short. Both Sonics have their eyes narrowed, the bridge of their eyebrows scrunched down to separate them into two distinct shapes, and they're holding their fists up. But in Frontiers, it's not very clear what emotions he's feeling just by looking at him. Sure, he looks kinda determined if you squint, but at a glance, he looks almost more neutral than anything.

And it just gets worse the more you think about it because by all accounts, he should be having a MORE intense expression than the one in Rise of Lyric! I mean come on, the guy practically died five minutes ago and is gearing himself up for another round of Titan fights. He should be looking exhausted and utterly spent but like he's still gonna keep going somehow.

It got to the point where, halfway through writing this, I decided that it wasn't enough to just talk about what his expression should have looked like, and that I was going to put my money where my mouth was and redraw it myself.

I scrunched his eyes and brows down closer to how they are in the Boom screenshot for the determined look, made him look upwards with his irises instead of staring blankly ahead, and pulled up his lower eyelids to add an edge of desperation to him.

I kept his mouth in the same position, but tried to make it look a little more... angry? by curling it up on one side and showcasing his top teeth more. Finally, I changed the position of his body and arms a bit, to make it look like his whole body was tensing up along with his face.

These are all Extremely Doable in 3D animation - the only part I'm uncertain of is the mouth, since I tend to draw mouths with a very 2D mindset. But on principle, it should not be hard to shape his eyes to match his emotions. That is the absolute bare minimum of what you want your character models to be capable of in a professional setting.

And it's driving me nuts that Frontiers, savior of the Sonic games' credibility among the masses, is still being outclassed by what's considered the "second 06" of the franchise. What is happening over there that this keeps being a problem

[snowfallenapocalypse]

Howdy Slay the Princess friends! I wanted to show off my Voices designs, they’re still very likely to change cause I’m still not quite happy with all of them, but I hope you enjoy them! :3c

Explanations and a few extras below the cut! :) (This ended up being a really long post so be warned!)

For the most part I try to use the same body shape for all of them, with the only differences being their accessories and some beak variation. None of them have wings either- I don't like drawing them that much so they're reserved for TLQ

Alright here we go- explanation time!

Hero - Knight's helmet based on the default warrior class helmet from Miitopia, no clue if the feather, ponytail, thing... is his actual feathers or part of the hat and I probably never will. I love how he looks even if the helmet sucks to draw

Broken - Shackle and chain around his neck, not much to say about this guy, I was a bit worried it was too similar to the Prisoner's shtick at first but it's grown on me

Contrarian - Jester's cap, the most common defining accessory I saw for him in fanart and thought it fit. Probably gonna change him cause the current iteration doesn't feel quite right. (Either hat redesign or something new)

Opportunist - A tie and ripped dress shirt, I wanted a smarmy business-ey feel for him but didn't think a nice shirt would fit in with the aesthetic of the game, so I gave him a ripped one (he probably found it on the ground somewhere)

Paranoid - Perfume pendant, I adore this concept but have had a hard time conveying it properly. The pendant is filled with smelling salts cause there's no way in hell he's gonna just let one of them faint. I want to keep this concept so much but I know it has to go through a few more designs cause I don't really know what it's supposed to look like.

Smitten - A shawl with heart shaped embroidery and a flower broach, I... Don't know how to feel with this one? It doesn't quite fit Smitten's exuberance but I don't know what I would give him instead. Will probably change later if I do come up with something better

Hunted - Hooded cloak, for camouflage :0 (it's a very short cloak though basically only covers his shoulders.) I drew him twice so you could see both versions, realistically he'd always have the hood up but I find it hard to draw and doesn't look as good so I don't bother, (it probably looks weird because the hooded version is missing the feather tufts, I added a quick sketch of the hood with them below)

Cold - A hole in his chest (shamelessly based on Mad Rat Dead,) Cold didn't seem like the type to have any worldly possessions so this was the most literal way I could convey his 'heartless' personality, it is kinda bending my rule of giving all these guys unique accessories but it fits him quite well so I don't mind

Skeptic - Detective hat, this is another one that I think looks a bit weird due to the lack of tufts (version with them below) and I don't know how well this fits his personality, but Skeptic is probably the voice I'm least familiar with so I'm kinda just ignoring redesigning him until I get a better grip on his character (I also don't really know how to draw this hat- I tried my best lol)

Cheated - Cut off tuft and scars, I had a really hard time coming up with this one and I'm still not quite sure how I feel about it. It's another one that bends my rule of having accessories but I couldn't think of anything to put on him that fit the vibe of 'Being salty from repeatedly losing to someone using hacks in a game.' (Yes, that's how I summarize Cheated's personality lol)

Stubborn - ...Isn't here, Oops? Yeah, you probably noticed but I don't actually have a design for him yet. I might give him a cape? idk. He's another voice I don't really have a good grasp on, I have to play through his chapters again :')

Anyways! Here's the basic design rules I tried to stick to when coming up with these guys (and the explanations as to why) cause I wanna share my creative process :0!!!

-Same body shape/their defining trait should be an accessory and not their size/frame/body (just to keep things simpler for me, technically broke this one by taking a chunk out of Cold and Cheated tho, oops)

-Easy to convey without too many details (this is because I draw absolutely tiny on paper and details will get lost at that size!)

-Should be visible in a bust shot, aka shoulders up (that's just what I draw the most, as you can see)

-No weapons (the only weapon they'll ever have is the pristine blade, I didn't want a scenario where TLQ looses the blade but actually it's fine cause the Hunted has a dagger or something)

-No pants, shoes, long sleeves, or full outfits (this one's just a personal preference, I think they look a little weird in clothes.)

(The 'Same body shape' and 'No weapons' rules are the main things holding me back from most of the easy Stubborn ideas I have but I'm sure i'll come up with something eventually!)

Speaking of!

If you wanna suggest some ideas for better designs for these lads (or send your favourite designs by other artists (or your own)) please do!! I plan on drawing some other designs I like by other artists soon for practice/inspiration, so please send them my way >:3c

As a send-off to the post (and a thanks for reading this far holy shit I wrote far too much) here's the extra bits! My one Long Quiet full body, the Hunted and Skeptic sketch with their tufts, and a bonus Opportunist cause I realized you can't really tell what the shirt looks like lol

[babyaiker]

Mr pookiebooks can you pls draw low honor Kieran 😈 maybe in Colm’s big fluffy coat tysm tysm your artwork makes me squeal and giggle and spasm with delight

Wassup Duckie I got u pookie >:3

I’ll do ya one better, here’s my spin on a lil “what if Kieran was leader of the O’driscolls AU” too cuz I got way too outta hand with the coat

- I don’t imagine in canon Kieran EVER got along with Colm. Never liked his ideals, his methods, his vibe, a true “ride with em’ or die” entrapment situation. Awful

- It’s the same for this AU, but in order to save his own ass he becomes the biggest kiss-ass to ever kiss-ass. He just does whatever he’s told because he knows he can do it, and it keeps him safe.

- Bro sycophants so hard he ends up becoming one of Colm’s right-hand men. And despite really not wanting to, Colm gets arrested and writes to have Kieran be next in command. 

- The gang doesn’t actually fall apart immediately, but it starts changing how it goes about things.

- Rather than robbing, the O’driscoll boys begin taking up bounties, putting criminals away better than the sheriffs ever did due to their power in numbers. This practically forces the law within the small towns they occupy to tolerate them, as without them, crime would go back to it’s uncontrollable state.

- Through offering protection from other gangs, the boys are able to make good money extorting entire towns throughout New Hanover. Of course the money’s still dirty though, as the O’driscolls aren’t afraid to create some new problems if the towns stop paying. 

- Kieran essentially introduces a more “mutually beneficial” money-maker into the gang.

- He may be low honor but I still see him as the awkward gentle soul he is in canon, and would prefer to rest easy knowing he’s committing the least amount of murders required.

- Kieran becomes known as this lanky stoic guy who never talks, who ripped the coat off of Colm’s dead body, and uses Colm’s men like guard dogs.

- While he’s definitely gained a fair bit of confidence as leader, he chooses to never speak directly to those he’s dealing with, instead whispering to his men to speak for him. It’s great for his scary gang-leader image, but in actuality it’s cuz he doesn’t wanna stutter or say something weird in front of the ops. 

(Shout out to the LISA: The Painful fans in the crowd, I stole that idea from the game) (fun fact the reason the image is cut off is cuz I drew him too tall haHA)

[adragonprinceswhore]

The Way I Feel Under Your Command

Chapter II: Magic Between You and I Prev

Summary: Aemond stays true to his promise, and hates himself for it. Our dance instructor does the best with what she's given, even if that is Westeros' most off-putting and pretentious Valyrian.

Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, Aemond is a condescending a-hole (but you already knew that), Aegon slander, sexual tension, dry humping, thigh riding, blue balls but make it AFAB

A/N: Chapter one and two are basically a deep-dive into the psyche of Aemond in this modern setting, but I promise some dirty dancing at the end of this chapter 🕺🏼 and just imagine how much better the smutty, sexy stuff will hit when we’ve built their dynamic 😙 bear with me! No taglist! Enjoy!

Aemond would never admit to his brother that his goading got to him. 

He wouldn’t even fully admit it to himself. How different would his life be if he hadn’t allowed his temper to be dependent on Aegon? If he didn’t feel like being berated by his older brother sent him back to when they were kids and he’d do anything to impress him? To make him see him as a brother, an equal, and not a plaything? 

He shakes his head to kick the thought away. 

His head’s still pounding, just as it had an hour ago when he woke. Noticing how strange his tongue feels in his mouth, he realises that he’s thirstier than he’d been in a long time. 

Fucking Aegon. 

He’d never be here, walking towards the boathouse, if not for his brother dragging him to that party yesterday and force-feeding him alcohol. 

Pushing him out of his comfort zone. 

Making him feel less than.

As always.

There were several reasons Aemond didn’t like to get drunk. 

One was the gradual loss of control he felt as the alcohol made his usually sharp mind slow down.

Another was his temper; something he’d disciplined himself to control after years of practice. 

As a child, he’d been the kind to cry when his brother and nephews ‘jokes’ got to him, or when he scored low on a dressage test. 

Wearing his frustrations on the outside only taught him how awful being looked at with pity can be. That specific type of vulnerability and shame you feel when someone looks at you and thinks: “poor thing”. 

Therefore, he’s grown used to being in control of himself; of his moods and urges. 

Until he’s drunk. 

He spots her where she said she’d be, right next to the boathouse, stretching her legs. She’s definitely in better shape than him; hardly appearing different from yesterday evening. 

Locking eyes with her, she seems surprised to see him. 

Did she expect me not to come?

To Aemond’s recollection, she’d practically begged for a dance partner. He had said yes, mostly due to his intoxicated state, but also because of Aegon’s insults. 

She smiles as he comes closer, “How we feeling today?”

“Fine”

“Okay”, her smile falters at his short, unfriendly answer, 

“Let’s get started then”

Her routine is simple; an original piece she’d put together to showcase her greatest strengths as a dancer, 

“Despite only making the reserve list”, she jokes, but the forced smile doesn’t reach her eyes. 

She gives him a quick run-through of it; going into detail about the meaning behind her dance, how she got started, why she chose the movements she did. 

Aemond barely listens. 

His head is throbbing, pain elevated by the sharp sting erratically stabbing the nerves behind his left eye. His features don’t change as he half-heartedly listens to what she says, occasionally nodding. 

Whatever, can’t be that hard. 

“You’re posture is great”, she compliments him, eyes scanning him critically, “try to relax your shoulders a bit more” 

He does as he’s told, yet the tension in his back doesn’t fully ease. He can’t truly shake his internal stiffness; he’s always on alert. 

She continues to guide him, freely grabbing his hands to place them on her body, causing him to briefly recoil at the sudden heat of her skin. 

How long has it been since someone touched me like this? 

“I think we can finish here for today. Great work!”

Her hand is still holding onto his as she gives him an approving smile. There’s something different about how she looks at him now; she seems more relaxed, like they’re familiar with each other. 

“I really appreciate you doing this for me”

Aemond feels his cheeks heat up. His mouth is drier and palm, still in her grip, damper. 

He jerks away from her, causing her hand to slip out of his. His head is still pounding furiously, and without a word, he turns around to go back to the Targaryen villa. 

Every corner of Red Lake Resort is carefully curated. 

It may not seem like it; in the way the vibrant flowers appear to grow widely on the sides of the houses, stretching all the way up to the pillar-enclosed balconies reminiscent of a time when the castle ruins, now hosting the elite of Westeros each summer, used to host House Crane of the Reach. Still, every flower, every branch, every leaf, was there for a reason; for the ‘Monet-esque’ beauty created by the slight chaos of stoney ruins, colourful greenery, and sporadic ponds scattered between the large buildings. 

There is an understanding that, at Red Lake, residents can forget the stressors of their everyday lives. For the esteemed guests 'comfortable’ enough to afford a stay there, such stressors might include running an enterprise, hosting a charity gala, or berating an underpaid maid for not polishing the silver thoroughly enough. 

It was a place where ‘the customer is always right’ got hammered into the staff with such ferocity that they could almost feel the nails of submission penetrate their skulls. 

The perfect place for those who did not wish for the hierarchy they sat at the top of in their everyday lives to sway even in the slightest. 

A comfortable place for the current head of Targaryen Holdings to spend sparse time with his family. 

Ever a man of comfort, Viserys Targaryen’s distaste for change means that the Targaryen-Hightowers always stay in the same villa, big enough to host not only the family but any guests they may invite. 

Aemond always stays in the same room, located at the end of the hallway of the second floor, tucked in a corner. He had chosen that exact one since it was the only room dark enough for him to comfortably hide in when his head hurt from an old eye injury he had since childhood, and one of the privileges of being the ‘broken’ child was that he got first pick of trivial things such as room assignment. 

Aegon and Daeron share the room next to his, and Helaena’s is next to theirs.

As an anxious child, the only downside of his secluded corner had been the nights he woke up in cold sweat, mind plagued with night terrors and head pounding. Then, the short distance walking past his siblings' rooms to his mother’s felt colossal. 

Now he revelled in the privacy, preferring to stay in and get lost in his thoughts as often as possible. Spending time with his family was just too draining. 

Yet for some reason, today he craves distraction from his pounding head and strange inner sensation. And if there’s something that can pull him out of his thoughts, often by force, it’s his family. 

Most times when he sought a distraction, he’d bury his head in work, preferring to stay ever productive. 

He knows that there’s always something that needs to be done; some nearly disastrous hypothetical fire threatening to burn the Targaryen empire down to ashes. 

That’s one of the reasons why Viserys insists on staying in the same villa each year; the large office on the first floor is the perfect place for him and Otto Hightower, Aemond’s grandfather, to spend the entire holiday working. 

It has always been Otto that’s been keen on having Aemond join the company, proudly laying a hand on his shoulder as he showcases the skills he’s acquired to please his father. Viserys, on the other hand, is not as easily impressed, nor does he seem to think much of Aemond’s diligent work. 

In his current state, however, Aemond knows that he won’t produce the results he’d want, and that kind of embarrassment and potential spiralling into an afternoon filled with dwelling in self-hatred was better avoided. 

Entering the large open-plan kitchen and living room of the villa, he spots the family menace snoring with an open mouth on the sofa, TV turned on to some brain-dead reality show and an open bag of crisps resting on his stomach. 

His older brother is somewhat of an enigma to Aemond. How could someone with so many opportunities, so much handed to him on a silver platter, fumble everything given to him so badly? 

Aegon’s always been volatile, and prone to getting into trouble, but his destructive tendencies have mellowed out somewhat since he promised to not do drugs anymore, a lifestyle change prompted by his mother telling him she’d revoke his access to his trust fund. Aemond knew better than to smile at his brother's misery in front of his mum, but seeing her scold him for his pathetic life choices felt so gratifying he’d had to hide the grin breaking out across his face behind his hand. 

Something about seeing Aegon miserable made Aemond feel a sick sense of satisfaction, like the one you have after indulging in too many sweets and consequently left feeling like you’ll be sick. 

Overindulging in self-righteousness.  

He spots Helaena in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of sparkling water and placing it in the crocheted bag hanging off her shoulder.

“You alright, Aemond?”, her gentle voice asks, smiling faintly as she observes him.

“Yeah”, he says, too exhausted to even begin to explain the whirlwind of occurrences happening in the last 12 hours, “Where are you off to?”

Her eyes light up in an instant, “Oh, I heard from Grandfather that the large oak tree we saw by the restaurant yesterday is positively teeming with bugs”

Aemond spots the art supplies in her bag; acrylic pastel colours, brushes of varying sizes and a block of thick, white paper. 

“Mind if I join you?”

“Actually, I need some time alone. You understand”, she replies in her usual sweet tone, leaving her younger brother alone once again. Helaena had always been blunt, maybe even a bit too much so for most people’s liking. Aemond knows that she means no harm by it, she just prefers to communicate her needs frankly with him. 

Still, he wishes she’d had entertained him by allowing him to join her, if even just for an hour. 

His search for distraction continues, leading him to wander around the large villa in hopes of running into his younger brother. 

When Aemond left his room at 6.45, looking more similar to a ghost than his usual carefully curated image, the only other family member awake had been Daeron, always cheery and on his way to meet up with some guys he’d acquainted days prior for an early morning rock climbing session. 

He’s probably not even back yet. 

Aemond curses himself for the second time today. His usual instinct would be to go with his younger brother; to do sometimes productive and fulfilling rather than attending a party filled with senseless idiots looking for no more stimulation than that of an easy fuck. 

Fucking Aegon! 

His footsteps grow harsher as he heads up to his secluded room to grab his pack of Marlboros, half-running down the stairs again to quickly get out of the villa and onto the gratuitous patio. 

His mother hates when he smokes too close to the inside living space, but seeing as she’s not here, he doesn’t bother to walk the extra metres he usually grants her. 

Instead, he slouches against the facade of the extravagant holiday home, gazes out over the resort and inhales the strange mixture of cigarette smoke and roses. The entire front of the building is covered in heirloom rose bushes, causing not only the patio, but the kitchen and living room as well, to bathe in the familiar scent. 

To Aemond, roses mean summer homework, family dinners, swimming in Red Lake, looking for bugs with Helaena, playing tennis with Daeron, listening to Aegon chat his ear off, 

And her. 

There she is again. Surrounded by a group of elderly guests dressed in flower-printed dresses, linen suits, and trilby hats. 

She’s in the arms of some melting, old skinbag, with a belly so round it prevents the geezer from truly pressing her body against his. 

The smile on his face causes Aemond’s hungover stomach to flip, and the hand he’s placed on her waist seems to want to squeeze her flesh a bit more than necessary. 

She laughs at something he says, giving the old man a friendly pat on the shoulder. 

To Aemond, it looks like she enjoys the attention. 

Revels in it. 

He crushes the bud of the cigarette against the white, stone wall, exhaling a low scoff before turning around. 

Figures. 

“So, yesterday I noticed you were a bit stiff” 

She has to stretch her neck to meet his eyes; one lilac and one deep blue. 

Does he have heterochromia? 

They’re in the same place, at the same time. This morning, however, Aemond has pulled his long, Valyrian hair back into a low bun, causing her gaze to shamefully flicker down to his sharp jaw and strong, masculine neck. There’s one delicate, blue-green vein running down the side of it; from his ear to his shoulder, and for some reason the sight of it makes her flustered. 

His eyes stay trained on hers, waiting for her to continue. 

She already feels like she has a good grasp of who he is. 

He is a man of few words, preferring to answer in grunts and hums. 

He is intense, evident from his stare never leaving her; evident in how it emits from him like smoke; latent vehemence. 

It excites and frightens her in equal measure, a strange cocktail of sensations and impressions swirling in her stomach after only knowing him for less than 72 hours. 

She’d initially gone with her regular approach to new dance partners; flattery in the form of exaggerated praise, so that the inevitable criticism doesn’t sting as badly. 

It had not worked on Aemond Targaryen, however, who’s stoic face and nonchalant attitude did not waver or crack down even after the 20th “Great work!”

Might as well enjoy the straightforwardness of going right into the critique. 

“When you dance you need to be precise”, she explains, 

“You need to have good posture, and be aware of your entire body, but it still needs to seem like you are just naturally moving this way out of coincidence”, her voice falters somewhat as she sees his eyebrows raise ever so slightly in question, 

“It's not supposed to look as calculated as it is”, she clarifies. 

Aemond hums. The non-verbal standard reply almost irks her, but she bites her lip and forces it into a smile. 

If she had any other option; any other person who could help her with the audition, she’d probably thank Mr Targaryen for his time and ask him to go back to being sulky and rude at parties. Regrettably, he happens to be one of the few men at Red Lake who’s under 60 and has the physique and the durability to actually do her routine. He doesn’t need to be perfect, he just needs to be her sturdy backdrop. 

Besides, she’s more than used to demanding dance partners. 

He’ll budge too. 

He has to. 

“You know at the party… Did you see how we were dancing?”

“Hm”

“It’s a great way to get you to loosen up and really use those hips, you’ll need to learn how to move like that for the routine to work”

His gaze almost makes her cower; incredibly stern and thoroughly unimpressed. 

Still, she stands her ground, moving closer to him to place her legs on either side of one of his. 

“Like this”, she says, voice coming out far lower than she’d planned for. 

Don’t let him intimidate you! 

“A-, and then you place your hands on my hips”, she continues, grabbing his hands and placing them on herself. 

His hands are soft and hard at the same time; roughened with strength yet his skin is soft. And warm. Her fingers linger on his for a second too long before she places her own hands on his shoulders.

His eyes never leave her face.

Is he studying me? 

Waiting for a mistake?

“Since you’ve done horseback riding, I’m sure you’ll catch on quickly”, she says with a anxious smile.

Fuck, why does he make me so nervous!?

“When you gallop, you move together with the horse in a steady movement, right?”

One of her hands slip down the side of his arm, travelling from his shoulder to his hip. 

Roughened with strength yet his skin is soft.

She moves her body slightly in a slow rhythm, pushing on his hip to guide him with her, “Like this”

His persistent eye contact burns; surely leaving a hole in her head. His features don’t change, but she knows he’s paying attention to her instructions from the way his hips start to move in tandem with hers. 

She has danced with so many people, in so many settings, yet this makes her cheeks heat up.

Her tongue comes out to wet her drying lips, eyes still locked with his. 

“Good, you’re getting the hang of it”, she praises, hoping he’ll relax a bit at the compliment. 

In truth he’s still quite stiff, but not in the uncomfortable way she cannot help but be. He’s still on alert, refusing to let his guard down, even as he stands with her between his legs and grinds. 

One of his eyes, the lilac one, appears to darken, narrowing in challenge at her. 

She feels his hands on her hips tighten as he picks up the pace, dancing with more vigour than before; than her. Suddenly he’s leading them as he rolls his hips at her and moves her body to match his pace with his firm grip. 

His demanding hold on her forces her closer to him, and with each movement a spark of pleasure runs up her core. 

Panic washes over her like a cold shower at the realisation, still she can’t abruptly stop. 

Do I want to stop? 

With every push of his leg against her hidden, swollen clit, she feels hot; on edge.

She’s no longer on the grass field by the boathouse. She’s somewhere else, somewhere he’s taken her. 

All she senses is him. 

His lean arms on each side of her, flexing as he moves her body. His eyes, looking down at her with that same intensity that has her head spinning. 

They’re locked together. It’s all too fast, too slow, too long, too short. 

Aemond, after what feels like an eternity, breaks eye contact to duck his head down, body still dancing with hers. 

His lips ghost over the shell of her ear. She feels his breath fan over the delicate skin there. Another bolt of want shoots through her.  

Fuck!

In a low, borderline mocking voice, he softly asks, “You think I don’t know how to do this?”

He delivers one final, harsh and precise thrust between her legs before withdrawing completely, turning around to grab his bag and hastily walk away from her panting silhouette. 

Left is the smell of cigarettes, sandalwood and.. roses?

A/N: This is your sign to put on Hungry Eyes and lose your shit at the fantastic saxophone solo! Thank you for reading, kisses!

[flowerakatsuka]

Do you have a fave hesokuri au or skit au and have you kuroba’d them 👀

HI EVAN, THANK YOU SM FOR THE ASK!!! 😊✨

and yes, i do!! a few actually, heh. i've talked a little bit about the youkai & denki mystery aus i have for kuroba before and i really love those, but i think my favorite might actually be their royalty / prince au. which i haven't really talked about before so uh. i hope you don't mind, but i'm gonna use this as a excuse to ramble about it.

i'll put my infodumping under a cut bc it might get long, but here's their designs for the au. 🤭

SO. kuroba comes from a commoner household, but because their grandfather was the royal gardener to the matsuno family and they acted as his apprentice, they've basically lived their entire life on the castle grounds in spite of their status. they've gotten to meet and come to befriend quite a few people of a higher social status than them, the most notable being the 2nd prince of the matsuno royal family, karamatsu.

they first met as children, when karamatsu ran away from his caretakers to hide in the gardens and cry by himself. kuroba had been helping with cleaning up the rose beds that day and stumbled upon him. they've always been the meddling type and can't leave others alone when they're upset so they sat with him and tried to comfort him to the best of their ability, ( even if it was just providing him company and a hand to squeeze while he cried. ) after that, karamatsu became very curious about kuroba and would often visit the gardens in the hopes of spending time with them. the two became very close over time, with him following them around the gardens as they worked and running to them whenever he needed a shoulder to cry on ( which they were always happy to provide. )

they're still very close as adults despite some things changing, like karamatsu adopting a more flashy personality to stand out more amongst his brothers and kuroba taking over their grandfather's role as royal gardener. a lot of the things stayed the same, though.

however, their close friendship starts posing some issues within the royal counsel. one of the princes having such an intimate relationship ( and obvious infatuation ) with a commoner is unsightly in the eyes of the nobility and could make them question the integrity & stability of the crown. so iyami, ( who's a sketchy noble adviser to king matsuzou, ) proposes that karamatsu be engaged to duchess dobusu to help quell the rumors going around about kuroba and him. matsuzou agrees and even though he tries to protest it, kara eventually agrees to go along with it for the sake of his family and kuroba.

when karamatsu tells them the news, kuroba takes it pretty well and congratulates him with a smile... or at least, that's the reaction he gets out of them. in reality, they're fucking devastated because they've been harboring feelings for him for years at that point. they already accepted the fact that they could never be together, but that doesn't make the reality of the situation hurt any less. still, they want to support karamatsu and be happy for them so they're taking the truth about their feelings for him to the grave. ( that's what they planned on doing, at least. )

they slowly drift apart after that ; karamatsu's visits to the gardens become less frequent, kuroba stops personally delivering fresh arrangments to karamatsu's quarters, they barely even greet each other when crossing paths. it doesn't help that iyami got into kuroba's ear, warning them that they should keep their distance from kara to preserve his reputation and not lose their job — which they really can't afford as the main breadwinner for their family. neither of them are happy with how things have changed, but there's not much they can do about it.

as karamatsu and dobusu's engagement party draws closer and kuroba has to help with the decorations, their discontent really bubbles to the surface. one of their noble friends, ( i haven't decided who yet lol, ) finds them crying and tries to comfort them, eventually convincing them to sneak into the party and dance with kara so they at least have one unforgettable memory of him to hold onto. with their help, they manage to do it with their identity hidden behind a mask.

things seem to go off without a hitch ; they'll be able to have to moment with karamatsu all for themself and basically no one will be the wiser. that is until they slip up and speak while dancing with him. they start to leave when he almost says their name, but he stops them and gives them the pine-shaped brooch he was wearing before letting them slip away. to make matters worse, iyami sees this all go down.

the events after that are a lot less plotted out, but i imagine some standard historical fantasy romance webtoon bullshit going down. like karamatsu trying to confront kuroba about that night, but them telling him to stop and leave them be. it's be some wild melodrama, which i do kinda live for.

the climax would probably be iyami staging some villainess-esque condemnation event to expose kuroba for sneaking into the party and get them kicked out of the castle. but queen matsuyo and some of the nobles kuroba had befriended come to their rescue. basically, they argue that if there's someone who's willing to be with karamatsu's annoying ass, then why would you force him onto someone else? none of the other nobles want him, please let kuroba have him so they don't have to deal with him. this includes dobusu, who agrees to give the royal family her duchy's support if they break off her engagement with karamatsu and let kuroba take him off her hands. so after getting matsuzou's approval, they live happily ever after theeeeeee end. there's probably other factors that could play into them getting together at the end, but yeah.

anyways thank you for coming to my rambling, i am so sorry it got this long. this is one of the aus i've thought about A LOT so i ended up having a lot to say. 😭

[atlasscrumpit]

Hannibal/Will!Platonic Reader

Tw: Violence and blood

Hannibal held his hand against your throat, a cold blade pressing to your skin.

"Please... Please don't so this." You sobbed out as Will stood in front of you.

"Hannibal, don't do this. Let her go." Will said while you sobbed, Hannibal's eyes cold and emotionless.

"The grief will get easier with time, Will." He whispered before sliding the blade against your neck and slitting your throat.

"NO!"

You woke up a cold sweat, your body trembling as you sobbed.

The door opened and Hannibal walked in, you scream at the top of your lungs.

"No! Get away!" You screamed as he rushed to your side.

"My child, what is the matter!?" He asked in a panic as you sobbed and scurried away from him.

Will rushed into the room after hearing your screams.

You ran to him and hugged him tightly, crying into his arms as he wrapped you up in a hug.

"Shh, it's okay." He whispered as Hannibal stood behind you and placed his hand on your back.

"Sweetheart, why are you so afraid?" He whispered, noticing how much you were trembling.

You tried to speak but you couldn't even form a word.

"It's alright, just breathe." Will whispered, rubbing your back softly to try and calm you down.

"He killed me..." You muttered, trying your best to calm down.

"Who, love?" Will asked, letting you cuddle into him more.

"Hannibal." You whispered, you'd always called Hannibal father or papa, for you to use his real name, the dream must've shaken you up.

"Sweet child, I would never ever harm you." Hannibal whispered, gently stroking your back.

"I bet you made that same promise to Abigail." You whispered before shoving Will away and running out of your room.

Will went to go chase after you but Hannibal stopped him.

"Don't. She will come to her senses." He muttered, Will pulled away from him with an angry look on his face.

"Do you have an empathetic bone in your body? She is upset and trembling out of fear and you act as if you don't care." Will scolded him as he stared back at Will with the same cold eyes.

"Do what you do best and fucking stay here while..." Will trailed off, his breath hitching in his throat as he swallowed dryly.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, clenching his jaw.

The memories of Abigail rushed through his mind as he thought about the same happening to you.

"You think that low of me that you think I would harm Y/N?" Hannibal asked, reaching out to tilt Will's chin up.

"You've done worse." Will whispered making Hannibal chuckle softly.

"The circumstances were very different. Let me fetch Y/N." He said letting go of Will.

"Hannibal..." Will whispered, staring at him hopelessly.

"She will not be harmed, you have my word."

Hannibal found you in the garden, laying in a small sun spot.

You would usually curl up and sun yourself like a little lizard, so Hannibal always knew where you'd be.

"I love you... But, I'm scared you don't love me." You whispered making the man sigh, he sat down on the ground in front of you face and gently brushed hair out of your face.

"What happened with Abigail was a long time ago, and it is something I regret to this day. Back then, life was very messy for Will and I and Will and I were very messy for life. I made some very bad choices back then but I would like to think I have changed. You're not afraid of me hurting you...you're afraid to find out that I don't love you. Is that right?" He asked as you cried softly and nodded.

"You cared about Abigail... But you still hurt her." You mumbled through your tears.

"My mind was clouded by grief and revenge, an anger that I couldn't control took hold of me. Both Will and I have served our time for what happened, even more so why I wear such a stylish accessory." He said gesturing to the ankle monitor he wore, you laughed a little and sat up.

"You are the most important thing in the world to Will and I. And we are going to protect you." He said as you looked into his eyes.

An image of the blade pressed against your throat flashed through your mind.

Maybe it wasn't you in the dream after all...maybe it was Abigail.

"Let's go inside, alright?" Hannibal said with a smile as you nodded a little.

"Yeah...okay." You muttered standing up and making your way to the house.

Will stared down at your motionless body, his face pale.

"It was better this way, Will... She's in a better place now."

[froyaoya]

FRIDAY WAS TOO FAR. — kageyama oneshot. gn.reader

mlist ┊ navigation

CW / SYNOPSIS : he’s sick. you take care of him and pray time works in your favor. (no explicit details ab. the sickness, 1 mention of chemo and treatment, implications)

five more days! you say enthusiastically as your forearms flex, making use of your body weight to push the wheelchair forward. they’d never compare to his, but he had years of training ahead of you. cheater. he tilts his head back at you and smiles knowingly—weaker than it used to be, but you’re grateful he’s still offering you one to begin with.

you swivel around together till you reach the tall fig tree that rules the garden; surrounding trees bow under—failing to match its height.

“it looks like you” your own voice echoes from a distant memory.

the mental image of his scowl makes you stifle a laugh. “and what exactly do you mean by that?” he’d flick you on the forehead.

“it’s the king of the land!!! you’re the king of the court!!” you’d beam at him. his expression would soften, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. but his confusion wouldn’t dissipate—he wishes he could see the world you do. as brightly as you do.

four more days, the doctor tells you, pity washing over his features. “we won’t have the technology for his chemo until then.” and you nod, ignoring the scratchy feeling in the back of your throat telling you it’ll be too late by then. because you believe in him. you believe in trying. you hope he believes too.

three more days and they’re here, tobio” you whisper, shooting a grin at him—who’s diligently squeezing a rubber ball to ‘maintain grip strength for the upcoming season’ . he glances at you, apologetic.

“i was listening,” he states warily like a son afraid to anger his mother. but you don’t mind, he already knows his highschool teammates are coming to visit. it’s been marked by an x on the pink calendar that waves at every guest who stops too look around his four by four hospital room. despite the sterile environment, it smells like yogurt. for muscle growth, he’d defend. his dedication to his sport wraps your heart in hope.

two more days till he gets better? hinata asks you expectantly. he’s never changed—your lover’s best friend. he zips around, spreading the good news to kageyama’s beloved high school team after you confirm. your chest swells with pride at the people showing up for him. secretly, you think: I’m glad it’s not just me.

you look to him, and his expression mirrors yours.

one more day marks a year since you said your goodbyes. you stand between his teammates from different walks of his life—some shoulders slumped over, some with faces buried into them. a few walk over to you to say their condolences, words intended for comfort. they don’t know that you’ve already had that talk.

you remember his weary expression, hand clutching yours like he’s not ready to let go.

“I’m sorry.” he breathed out. “friday is too far.”

“don’t apologize,” you choked through tears, an attempt to comfort both of you. it fails. “you can rest now.” his hand went limp in yours.

the group stands around the tall fig tree, a gold plated plaque nailed deep into the wood: dedicated to the king.

author’s note: hellooo first oneshot on this account. not super angsty but it’s got a lil kick to it .. :”) sorry ab the abrupt ending HH this was my break from writing mousetrap!!! getting back to it..🚶🏻‍♀️

[tf-boi]

Maybe a story of a guy transforming his boyfriend into an almost completely inanimate mannequin, renting out his body to store while he takes his boyfriend's head and junk home, the only parts of him that are animate.

(Finally after being in my inbox for a million years~)

"Sign here . . . and here . . . aaaaaannndd here. There we go thats everything!" A medium build man wearing some square glasses (Tom), standing by a slightly taller man (Andy). "My boyfriend is yours for two weeks." the smaller man says with a smirk.

"Babe you gotta stop saying that when you rent my body out." Andy said sighing.

A girl passes the clipboard back to Tom and giggled "Oh don't worry we'll take great care of him~". The girl walks away and returns with a box of clothes. "Just get changed into these and you'll start right away!"

Tom and Andy walk into a changing room as Andy starts stripping. "grrrrowl. . . " Tom said admiring his boyfriend.

Andy blushed "You have to be in the room while I change?"

Tom chuckled "Well we don't have too much fun when we do our thing so why not take it all in while I have you?"

Andy sighed "That's true I guess, but renting our our bodies to these popup stores does making ends meet easy. Plus the after pick-up sex is amazing too."

The two college students embrace and kiss. As Andy and Tom walks out of the changing room, the popup store manager eyed Andy and gave a nod of approval. "Okay you'll be in the front of the store soooo lets get to posing!" The three make their way to the front of the store as Andy strikes a few pose, they eventually settled on a neutral pose.

"Alright, perfect! Lets go home~" Tom said as holds Andy's hand. Andy's body started to turn a shade of grey and blue his body started shining a nice glaze like a fine plastic, his joint's becoming like a doll's. This spread until it reaches Andy's head. Tom then reaches up and puts his hands on Andy's head, that has remained the same, and gives it a nice tug as it pops off his body. "Ahh, babe!" Andy exclaimed. "Ahhh sorry don't know my own strength~" Tom chuckled, "well we can't forget this!" He reaches down Andy's pants and gives another tug as he pulls off Andy's unchanged manhood.

"Thanks for renting, we'll be back in a few weeks!" Tom said walking off.

"Hey feel free to come back if you want to loan us your body too!" The manager waved at them.

Tom and Andy make their way home, Andy's head under Tom's arm, getting a few stares from people. Some thinking its a realistic head commenting on it, but the others who are in the community looking at it lustfully. Renting out their bodies for these stores was a convenient way for them to make some money and good way for them to make new friends. As they entered Tom's apartment, many other mannequins could be seen around the apartment. Some of them are their exes, most of them willingly gave their bodies to them.

Tom set Andy's head on the bed as they both lie there watching TV. It was an awkward silence for a bit before Andy spoke up "What's up babe?"

"W-what? Nothing!" Tom stuttered.

"Please, you were quiet on the way back and you are quiet now. That only happens when something's on your mind."

"Ughhh fine. . . you always know how to read me. Remember what I said at the store? About not having fun while one of our bodies is being rented out?"

"Mhm?" Andy said interested.

"Well what if . . . we changed that?" Tom said blushing.

Andy looked intrigued now "Ohhhh what did you have in mind?"

Tom said "Well . . . well . . ." "You know what? No need to ask, just do babe. My powerless head is under your control~" Andy winked.

Tom gulped but knew Andy was serious. Tom dropped his pants and picked up his blonde prince and put his mouth against his rock hard cock. Andy knew what to do and started out with a whiff of Tom's cock. Tom's dick was smaller than Andy's but his nerdy brunette boyfriend was still packing a decent size. "Ohhh . . ." Tom moaned as Andy started to suck Tom's dick. "mmmm . . . mmmmm . . ." Andy moaned as he savored Tom's cock in his mouth. Andy suddenly felt his head being moved forward and back as Tom started to fuck Andy's head. "Ahhh ahhh" Tom moaned as he let out his inner beast. For years he's been the bottom but now he finally found a boyfriend to let him be on top. He laid face down on the bed, Andy's head still sucking on his dick as he pound's Andy's head. He moves faster and faster but couldn't hold back as he lets out a load into Andy's mouth. Andy moaning as he slurps it up. The cum flows into his head but out of his neck soaking their bed. Tom's cock retracts out of Andy's mouth and he lies next to his boyfriend.

Andy gasped for air. "That was pretty good, but I wish it could have lasted a bit longer . . ." He said with a pout.

Tom looked a bit embarrassed "Sorry it was my first time topping . . ."

"But you were great with your cock, it felt so good and hard . . . when we get my body back, this time you're definitely topping!"

"really?" Tom grinned.

"Yup . . . but first round 2" Andy said lustfully.

"But I'm out of cum . . ." Tom said confused.

"Oh you are but, my cock is ready~ And by the way babe, its my turn."

Tom was shocked by the sudden request but walked into the living room to retrieve Andy's dick. He walked back into the bedroom and gulped. Tom lied next to Andy as he used his power on himself. His body having a nice plastic sheen as he detached his dick and replaced with Andy's massive cock. He winced a bit at how much more testosterone he had as it fills him up. He was tempted to fuck his boyfriend's head again but decided to follow through with his command. Tom put his hands on his body and popped his head off placing it next to Andy. The two share many kisses as Tom's hands reaches for Andy's head and places it onto his neck stump. Instantly Tom lost control of his body as he see's Andy feel his new body.

Andy felt up his new body admiring every inch.

Tom blushed "What are you doing??"

" Just admiring my new self. Having all my muscles is great but sometimes I want to try a slimmer body you know? Besides this is the first time I had your body while you are awake."

"Awake?? How many times have you done this?"

Andy ignored this question and picked up Tom's head and started making out. Their tongues wrapped together as they moaned into eachother's mouth. Tom suddenly felt his head get pulled away as it is placed in front of Andy's rocket. Tom started to suck Andy off wrapping his tongue around Andy's meat. "Ohhh babe you know all the good spots..." Andy moaned as Tom's head serviced him. Just like Tom, Andy started to use Tom's head as a fleshlight stroking his rock hard dick with him. Tom loved being used by his boyfriend and it even aroused him knowing it has his body being used. Tom gladly played the role of a toy and pleassured his boyfriend.

Once again Tom felt himself pulled away as a new sensation filled his head. Andy had slid his cock into the bottom of Tom's neck hold and started fucking him. Tom wanted to moan but Andy's cock filled his throat. His mind went blank as he eatches his boyfriend fuck him through the neck. Tom tightened his throat to squeeze Andy's cock. From the corner of his eye, Andy saw Tom's disconnected dick had gotten hard again and he picked it up and shoved it into Tom's mouth. "Mmmmmmm mmmmm mmmm" Tom moaned as he sucks his own dick. As Andy kept fucking Tom's head Tom came into his mouth, the streams of sperm lubing his throat for Andy's still hard member. Wanting this to continue, Tom got his cock hard again and kept sucking himself off. He came several more times until he felt it. Andy's cock releasing his love juices into his throat. The sensation made him cum once more as pools of cum pour out of both ends of his body. As they finished cumming Andy leaned back on the back of the bed a bit too hard and his head pops off Tom's body landing next to his boyfriend covered in their cum.

"That was amazing babe! We should definately do this more often." Andy said.

Tom didn't respond. His mind completely blanked out.

Andy still in control of Tom's body picks himself up and reattaches himself to Tom's body. "Well guess we went a little too hard..." Andy picks up Tom's head by the hair. "I guess its me and his body for the next couple of weeks."

Andy stared in their closet filled with their exes petrified bodies. "Well maybe I'll give our exes' body a spin too so it won't just our cocks being shoved in you~" Andy says picking out a body for round three.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

@intertexts BEHOLD. NEW HAVEN WARDS: THE WIBBY AND DAVID DYNAMIC ESSAY. this got way too fucking long 2 put in ur inbox so im making a post about it. ENJOY THE STICK FIGURE VIOLENCE <3

okay im just gonna start from the beginnign here and try not to get too sidetracked as i go (<< me when i lie) um. so. still not entirely clear on what williams trigger event would be so that may change how some of this works out logistics wise. but just assuming it would be SOMEWHAT similar to pd- william dies/has his near death experience and is Changed By It. in obvious ways that are impossible to hide. his parents find out because he had been missing for days and presumed dead so when he came back home covered in mud and dried blood and Different, everyone kind of broke down. they know about his powers from the start. william hates them (the powers, not his parents) but his dad especially has always been very supportive of capes and urges william to use them for something good! his mom, who has always grieved the lack of a relationship between her two sons, brings up the suggestion "hey, you know what! yeah! your older brother just so happens to live in a city with a really good cape population, maybe you can go live with him for a bit while you go to school <3" (<< this is also going off the assumption that the general public doesnt really. understand. capes much. his parents dont know theyre signing him up to be a child soldier and die before 40. they love him so much and just want the best for him- if they knew about all that they wouldve never even made the suggestion. but they see how much his powers are hurting him and theyre grieving the death of their youngest son who is still. awake and sitting in his bedroom. and i dont think any of them know how to deal with that)

william, not really having a place to argue from or another option to even consider, reluctantly agrees. hes too caught up in the fear and worry and unpredictability of his powers to even imagine himself as one of the heroes. but he goes anyway. and lives with david. its just as painfully icy as you imagine- david never signed up to be a permanent babysitter, i imagine theres a lot of. phonecalls overheard through the walls of his apartment of david on the phone with their mom asking if this was some sort of punishment. david spends all his time at his office and never takes time to even get to know william. he still takes care of him- he has the money for a penthouse apartment and keeps groceries stocked- but its not like theyre having cozy family meals every night. this does wonderful things for williams mental health obviously. which im sure makes his powers feel so much better (<< this is sarcasm). they dont talk much. obviously. william knows david works for/runs a branch of some tech company but thats about the extent of his knowledge and he never cares to ask further details than that. theres a little bit of resentment there on williams side (william wisp, known jealous petty little bitch- "i thought you were the first good thing to come out of deadwood"). david is someone who's important and has his life together and william is. in his own mind. a freak.

after joining the wards program and meeting dakota and virion and such. william IMMEDIATELY decides he is going to spend less and less and less time at davids place. and so the fucking. chasm between them grows. mutual good riddance. (they dont hate each other. theres just. not a whole lot of care there. but theyre still family, yknow?) and its just like. the BARE MINIMUM amount of contact. william stops by davids place to like. get stuff from his bedroom. uses davids apartment as storage for things he can't keep at the wards base (are teen superheroes allowed to smoke? i imagine that cant be good for their public image). so its not like they totally cut contact theres just. even less of it than there was before.

and then william learns about the SIGNIFICANT importance of keeping your cape and civilian identities separate. any villain who learns who you are behind the mask can be a threat to not only you but also your family. william, who loves his parents very much and knows they love him back, wants to protect them at all costs. conveniently, he doesn't live with his parents anymore. his current guardian just so happened to keep their mom's maiden name. so what does he do! bam. easy fix, change your last name to match with your brother. satisfies the heroes a little bit because its that extra step harder to connect william with people outside the city, AND its not suspicious on the civilian side either because. i mean he still matches surnames with his family. surely this will not come back to bite him (foreshadowing). i think it would be PERFECTLY in character and slimy for david to get a kick out of this name change btw. its been weeks since theyve spoken full sentences to each other but the next time william goes back to the apartment david is there at the kitchen table and just kind of laughs at the paperwork like "aw, little brother, i didn't realize you liked living with me that much. im flattered" etc. etc. eugh

behold! i can call him wibby now. awesome. so cool. anyway.

blahblah whatever whatever. im saying for au convenience david lives in new haven even though in pd canon he technically lives in freedom city. don't worry about it. HOWEVER. this becomes important. new haven wards are like?? vaguely sometimes in contact with the wards of the nearest settlement with a significant cape population- freedom city! this is alan, x, cantrip. I think they probably have like. fun friendly sparring matches sometimes (like the cage matches where they first met but like... legal. and mario kart!) but aren't close enough to be Friend Friends. freedom city wards uncover some shady underground company using illegal research (nhw equivalent of harttawa? dying 2 link this back to mark somehow bc im always thinking abt him but i KNOW u have plans for him already and im dying 2 know them) to give people artificial powers (connected to cauldron in some way but not obvious about it. ill explain this more in a minute) and guess who this gets linked back to. our one and only lovely wicked david bell. freedom city wards don't know williams connection to him since they wouldn't know his civ name. I don't think he would tell them. i also don't think they would actually TALK to David here like they do in canon, i think the heist goes a little more successfully and he's not actually physically THERE so all that happens is that they sneak in and see a bunch of files/papers. and william makes the connection with David's name and maybe picture. but the whole. killing a bunch of guards still happens. "its okay they're villains" etc. i don't know who would run freedom city wards program but they're more. loose about the rules than in new haven. which is why xavier and cantrip are Like That.

anyway on the way back to new haven william is REALLY shaken and dakota and virion obv pick up on that right away (i think they'd also know OF williams brother but not a lot of details bc he never talks about him.) william tells them that that was David and doesn't know what to do etc etc . I think he avoids the apartment for a looooot longer than he usually does because he doesn't want to accidentally run into David there and have to confront this. I think he's probably shell shocked by the idea a little- david is VERY MUCH against the hero program and doesn't like capes at all and is very vocal about that fact (this is pd canon too)!! why the fuck would he be working with the company that gives people powers and Makes More Capes! even though his mystery solving brain is going into overdrive thinking about the reasons and details and minutae of this discovery, william is also chronically avoidant of all his personal problems so i don't think he does any digging into it yet. until. well. the freedom city wards go missing

they on the other hand DID do a lot more digging into this. and david caught on to them and we end up with the scene in the basement . this is where I'm gonna get sidetracked bc there's a lot of information I'm thinking about at the beginning of all this

when william/vyncent/tide get there it's a very similar scene to in pd. x and cantrip are chained up, david has allen cut open on a table. william is. HORRIFIED. maybe even moreso than in pd.

x is even more immediately hostile to william when he and cantrip wake up because part of the information they uncovered in doing their own digging was the fact that david and william are related. and this pisses x off SO BAD because william never told them. and I think he uses wills secret identity against him and that's part of the reason william is SO DESPERATE to stop him. Just imagining that scene in the hallway at the beginning where they're screaming at each other and x just goes "that's your fucking *brother?* you're related to that monster and you never thought to, yknow, share that little bit of information with us?! william bell?????" and as soon as x says his name william just SNAPS and swings the axe at him .

anyway. back to the basement scene. david does his whole manipulative villain monologue with a scalpel to Allen's heart and we learn David is the head of an offshoot branch of cauldron (thinking about like maybe where they sell the vials to people under the guise of experimental medical treatment? for their own research purposes on how the vials affect people. real unethical shit! I feel like I need 2 learn more about cauldrons motivations before I set this in stone though) . anyway. we also learn here that david Has Fucking Powers. I don't know exactly what those would be right now but I think they would be pretty... inconsequential and at a really low power rating, but just that fact alone is enough for him to almost lose william completely.

this whole time william is just full of this icy dread and betrayal, but as SOON as david reveals he has powers that all just snaps to rage. comparable to that feeling where you've been bullied for something for years and then one day everyone decides that same thing is cool now. ("how long. how *long*, david? did you have these powers while you shunned me, sat on the phone with mom in the other room complaining about how much of a freak your little brother is? how *painfully sad* it is for you to share an apartment with the corpse of your baby brother, trying to get mom to pity you enough to take me back and get me out of your hair?")

and ofc david being who he is has some sort of slimy manipulation that saves his ass and gets william back on his side. tide and virion being there they immediately see right the FUCK through it but I think william would be compromised enough at that point that he wouldn't be thinking clearly enough to listen to them. (also side note . like I said I'm VERY undecided on what davids powers would actually be but the two ideas I've been bouncing back and forth are a) some kind of medical Thinker which is how he knows how to put allen back together the right way or b) some kind of Master which makes the manipulation thing worse <3. so maybe wibby is compromised bc davids using his powers on him. if it's the second option. smile!)

anyway wibby goes on his nightmare arc. right. even more fucked up bc of what x says to him about his identity. I actually think a lot of this stays the same but just with the addition of context and also the thing I said yesterday about the guards radioing to each other to evacuate.

everything happens pretty much the same with cantrip and he and virion getting back to the office only to find everything totally wiped clean already. william still does the Nightmare Thing in davids apartment afterward. still undecided in whether or not their parents will be there? I guess it depends on what we do with the trickster. (oh god I haven't even thought about the trickster irt new haven wards. fuck!) . I think actually I'm leaning more toward having them NOT being there? because I think william reigned himself in because he didn't want to scare them too much. and this is worm world i don't WANT wibby to reign himself in at all. I want him to go fucking nightmare apeshit.

btw this whole time? virion stays with him and it scares the SHIT out of him. he's still going to stay because ... this is william. this is his best friend (gay) and he HAS to trust that he knows what he's doing. I think afterward william stands up, david still unconscious on the floor, and there are silent tears streaming down his face and there's this expression of rage and betrayal and grief on his face that virion has NEVER seen on another person. so he reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder or maybe offer a hug (which in my mind is HUGE for him bc I've been imagining virion being SUPER careful and sort of avoidant about physical touch bc of his powers) but then william goes to brush his hand away as he walks out of the room and there's just the briefest moment of skin to skin contact. and it only lasts for maybe a second but virion gets this BURST of williams powers and it's terrifying. he can see and feel and hear and know *exactly* what william just did. it goes away almost immediately but the force of it is enough to throw virion off balance for a second as he processes it and when he comes to again he is just. shaking. and he doesn't say anything to william but he *knows* now and he doesn't know what to do with that information. hes scared out of his fucking mind but he's also. sad. he's REALLY fucking sad his best friend (gay) just had to do something like that. and he's not good with words so he doesn't say anything but he stays there. he stays by williams side despite everything. ughahhvhh

uhhhh final note. pain and suffering. william gets a whole Fucking Complex about sharing a name with david after this. but he still doesn't change it back to wisp because he knows x knows his identity now. which means he doesn't know how many other people could know, how many other people x will tell out of spite as a way to get back at him (<< william wisp paranoia WIN) and it's. LEAGUES better that any potential enemies would come after david and hurt david. (in fact he probably privately wishes for something like that to happen. hed never say that out loud though). using his name as a kind of shield even though it hurts like hell to be connected to his brother like that.

anyway! yeah! wisp-bell brothers torment nexus or whatever!