#this octopus can have so many layers to him

[melon-official]

HI. for ramen water (if. u don't want to do all of these. understandable. i'm most curious about the bold ones)

[Tier 0] 6, 8, 29

[Tier 2] 8, 26

[Tier 3] 10, 11

[Tier 4] 2, 13, 23, 28

[Tier 5] 13, 16, 28

of course im going to do all of these what do u think i am? sane?

6. Living situation; where do they live? How did they end up there?

ramen water shares an apartment near the square with seven roommates. they all found each other through turf war or squid craigslist, and their place has the energy of that one tiktok of the eleven person brownstone house tour (wait, it's actually sixteen. oh my fucking god) and it's like an ecosystem in there. somehow their individual chaos balances each other's out perfectly

8. Favorite weapon class and why? 

chargers, probably! although the heavy splatling is his all-time fave and he's quite fond of the splatana wiper. his favorite "category" of weapon is really anything with a wave breaker; the only reasoning for his choice of weapons is a note in his earlier concepts that says "mains what i main". he's evolved a bit from that, but he's still a player-character guy at his core

29. What’s a situation that would make them cry? Do they cry easily?

this is an interesting one. i don't think ramen water's opposed to crying, but i don't think it comes quite as naturally to him as it would to most of my other characters. he's more the type to simmer, speak his mind, or outright get into a full-blown argument first, and crying is more of an afterthought for serious stuff when he actually manages to sit down and process for awhile

8. Any details about their appearance that they’ve put a lot of thought into?

all of it all the time!! his "standard" appearance/mimic is crafted to suit him and it's something he's done for so long that calling it to mind is second-nature. in that context, he's not keeping specific tabs on it—if he's messing around with smaller features he does have to keep them in mind for awhile or they'll change back. —that being said, mimicking top scars is something he's put long-term thought into + worked through a host of doubts about.

26. Do they care about “being fresh”? Have they ever cared and how did it show?

yeah, lol! but in the same way that he cares about being (his version of) put-together, or being good at turf. i think it's just something that's part of his life so he wants to be decent at it. (he also loves barazushi merch so the freshness rating is like a bonus collectors incentive to him)

10. Something they feel is extraordinary about themself?

rw absolutely revels in his self-created whimsy and his refusal to care about how others see him. he thrives in his own unknowability + while that in and of itself can cause him issues, he's also really comfortable in his own skin + knows what he's capable of!

11. Something other people see in them that they don’t really see?

in general, his persona's so carefully crafted (physically and socially) that there's really not an assumption someone could make about him that he isn't already aware he's implying :/ this isn't really an answer to the question, but i think the closest anyone gets to this kind of thing is isaiah, who can relate deeply to his relationship with the nss and why glory's argument with him tore such a rift in their friendship for awhile. that, and he'll occasionally mimic features of someone he's thinking about without realizing it, cuz his mimic ability is that ingrained in his life/thoughts. (and thats my justification for swapping hairstyles/gear in-game without going thru the whole character creation screen)

2. Have they ever intentionally hurt anyone? How?

that is a GOOD ASS QUESTION and almost for sure the answer is no, he hasn't. i think the closest he comes to this is being a little too defensive over misunderstandings or the time he was playing softball with his roommates and broke a window (one of the roommates was the softball)

13. What kind of morals do they follow and where did they learn them?

ramen water grew up in his moms' very kind and even more matter-of-fact care, which i haven't really put a lot of thought into besides that they're kind of like this and he loves them very much. so he's very dedicated to his passions + goals and lets smaller things slide off his back easily, but when something offends him, BOY is it an offense. on a similar note, one of the reasons he works so much is cuz he's determined to make it on his own and insists on paying his rent + expenses out of pocket, even though he wouldn't have been desperate to escape his living situation. he just wants to be a big kid. he definitely still visits home regularly

23. How do they deal with bad emotions? Do they have any tried-and-true coping mechanisms?

as his mom(s(??)) would say, "While we can use the label negative [...] it’s important to acknowledge that all emotions are completely normal to experience." i'd say he's better-equipped than most his age on handling stress + knowing how well he can navigate different situations... he's solid on terms of accepting his emotions + putting effort toward understanding them. howeverrrr, that doesn't make these situations easier to handle in the moment... he spends a lot of time in his own head trying to unpack that without reaching out for another opinion, working late or even just doing menial tasks instead of sitting down to feel the weight of those emotions. it's a coping mechanism as much as it is an avoidance tactic; if a situation's dire enough he's prone to thinking about it way more than he needs to, ruminating over all sorts of possible explanations and generally not giving himself very much credit at all.

28. Are they a person that gives or takes more? Is it intentional?

in small ways he takes more: there's a perpetual battle over snack stealing in his apartment and he tends to act in his own best interests whenever he gets the chance. on a larger scale, though, he unintentionally tries to do neither; he's not a giver or a taker if he can just stay out of the way

13. How hard is it to get to KNOW them? Are they an open book or does NOBODY really know them?

one HUNDRED percent in FULL seriousness there is not a soul on earth who Really Knows them, ramen water included. his identity and his personality and everything he knows about himself is like a piece of the puzzle, but he's been swapping and layering all kinds of masks for so long that he really doesn't know what he's like without one. maybe under all those layers there's nothing. glory's the one who knows him the best, with isaiah and his moms at a close second. or, at least, he's the most genuine with them. his roommates and his penpal lemon see him w/o a decent amount of filter; his coworkers probably see about the same amount (maybe even less if he's particularly tired or running on autopilot). he defaults to oversharing just enough to keep people from asking questions about him

16. How would they describe themself?

exactly the way they want people to see them, really. talking about himself to himself is a whole other animal and the answer varies wildly with his emotional state, but he tries not to be mean

28. Has their appearance or character changed over the years? How and why?

metawise? ramen water, like honeydew, is sort of a stand-alone character in this hero mode universe, but the nature of him as an avatar in my game means that he gets all sorts of extra connections and bits that don't quite make sense. there's no canon reason for him to have a penpal or be on a competitive team, etc etc etc, but his persona is funny enough that i keep him around all the time + bits of those experiences leak into his character. i think it's also worth noting here that he and honeydew are distantly related + i made this happen for the sole reason that i make them both run around on my switch

since u read this far i'm also handing u half a fun fact: he does have a real, legal name that's not ramen water. i have made this name known to zero people and im trying to keep it that way for as long as i can so everyone just has to call him ramen water forever

[mylonelylittlestar]

My little star

Characters: Xavier Summary: random relationship headcanons with Xavier Warnings: None A/N: I've completely fallen in love with Love and Deepspace, especially with Xavier. It's truly hopeless

the type of boyfriend to get you matching pyjamas

he gets you so many that they slowly start to replace all of your own

likes to match with you even if you don't live together, so sometimes he just texts you to ask which pyjamas you're wearing so he can change into the matching one after he showered

if you ever gift him slippers, blankets, or pillows, he will keep them forever (even if it's something goofy like those big fluffy bunny slippers)

the best person to ask for good midnight snacks. He can recommend fantastic instant noodles, chips, crackers, or other snacks that are light and won't give you stomach aches late at night or negatively impact your sleep in any other way

very interested in your skincare routine (if you have one) and will try out any mask or cream that you give him

if you come up with a routine for him (a simple one, maybe, like the basic cleanser > toner > moisturizer), he will follow it diligently, dragging himself out of bed before he sleeps every day to do it because you were the one to pick those products for him and he doesn't want to waste that

he feels like it connects you to him, even if your routine is completely different and a bit more complicated

never cries during movies, no matter how sad they might be, but he does (on very rare occasions) get a bit teary-eyed

he will hold you if you cry during a movie, and he would never even think about making fun of you for it

he does secretly think that it's cute that you get so worked up about a movie

can sleep through anything. a bomb could go off in his house and he wouldn't know that it happened until he woke up

has seen every single episode of any shitty sitcom you can think of at least three times because he occasionally watches them while he sleeps

sometimes he quotes them but because he knows each of these shows so well now he always quotes the lesser known scenes and no one gets what he's talking about

you start to understand his references after a while, so sometimes he will quote some obscure scene from a super unpopular sitcom that got cancelled after one season and you're the only one laughing

secretly sneaks to the arcade sometimes to practice the claw machine game because he wants to get you the plushies you don't have yet (and to impress you)

he ends up getting dozens of repeats of plushies that you already own. he collects in a small storage room in his apartment that used to be empty

he ends up giving them away when the collection gets out of control, donating them to a children's hospital nearby

gets all shy when you find out about it, blushing bright red like a tomato (or a wasabi octopus)

knows about every single 24 hour store in the city because of his odd sleeping habits and always knows what to do no matter what time it is

you can't sleep and want to go on a date at 3:27 am? he knows a place

if someone is mean to you he will try his hardest to deescalate the situation, but he's also fully willing to fight the person if that doesn't work

I mean have you read his Anecdotes 2? He doesn't give a fuck. He'd prefer not to fight, sure, but if it's unavoidable? What is he gonna do? Not fight and defend you? Ridiculous.

The fandom has already started turning him into this soft uwu stereotype, but the thing is that that's... just not him? He's sweet and kind, yes, but that's not all he is. He's complicated! He has layers!

if he ever falls asleep during a date he would feel awful about it for days, even if you reassure him that it's fine and that you're glad that he feels safe enough around you to fall asleep

he tries to make it up to you with a different date and he falls asleep again, which starts a vicious, endless cycle

when he finally does get over his guilt it's only because you fall asleep during a date after you had a long day at work

knows when you cheat in kitty cards, but sometimes he just lets you get away with it, especially if he knows you had a stressful day at work. He hopes that the win will cheer you up

his good night kisses are forehead kisses while his good morning kisses are on top of your head if you didn't sleep over or on the cheek if you did

[orbital-inclination]

🦈 the boys are scheming

Ramble under cut!

Killer: based on the Black-tipped Reef Shark and a Thrasher Shark. His tail is long and whip like but you can’t appreciate it’s length bc it’s out of frame. He uses it to give his prey a concussion.

Horror: is a whale shark because he is a big softie, a gentle giant. I can only have so many octopi, and next to a shark of some kind that’s my second choice for him.

Dust: manta ray. My logic behind this choice works like this; hoodie = soft + covers you = blanket. Blanket + fish = stingray. Manta Rays don’t have stingers. But I gave Dust one anyway.

Dream/Molt: I was torn between a classic fish tail for him or something with tentacles. So I drew three forms for him. his designs are loosely inspired by cuttlefish and a specific killifish I’ve lost the name of.

Because Molt’s goop is tied to his role as a Guardian of Positivity of the multiverse, I was torn about whether not his mer-form should be goopy. I’m still indecisive about this.

If we went with his cuttlefish form, just like real cuttlefish he would be able change the color and texture of his body and tentacles. He can’t change the color of his bones or magic, of course.

This also one of the few AUs that you get to see the damage done to his ribcage. If only bc he doesn’t have three layers of fabric to hide it.

Regardless of the kind of mer-skele, Molt steers clear of deep open water. The scars across his ribs are a literal beacon in the dark, as his magic glows, and are just as likely to attract a predator as they are to attract curious small fish. As dusk falls, Molt hides himself away in caves and crevices in the reef or cliffs. He is a day time hunter by choice, but his brother still prefers to hunt at night.

Nightmare/Rem: i had two ideas for Rem, Octopus or Orca. Orca, because of the general importance that family plays in their social dynamic. And Octopus for classic fandom interpretation reasons.

If we are using the octopus type mer for Rem; like his brother, he can change the pattern and color of his body but not his bones or magic. Though he can change his color to almost any hue he wants, he prefers dark colors.

The dark markings on his bones may or may not be natural, and may or may not be caused by the same incident that nearly shattered his brother’s bones. :)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

can i be honest? im a fan of azul but his dream felt like it lacked impact. there were some very interesting moments and its better than the prediction that he would already be rich and own the world

like really? azul becomes a famous athlete and bullies others, then he takes over night raven? i feel like his struggles with his own identity and food could have been further explored and he is based off of ursula, which should extend to vanessa, right? it was the perfect reason to give him a total makeover and show that he has to be comfortable in his own skin before anything else, even if his other ness was what made him a target of bullying in the first place

your thoughts and worries on book 7 post has affected my perspective and i cant help but feel like something is missing 🥲 maybe all the budget went into Jade and Floyd?

[Referencing this post!]

As I’ve previously expressed, I have a lot of my own complicated feelings about the direction book 7 is taking, specifically with how the OB boys’ dream segments are presented and resolved. Azul’s dream is no different; it felt very contrived due to the formula TWST insists on running with in every new installment. It’s becoming even more apparent with each update, and it is really grating on me.

But!! Before I get to what I believe are shortcomings with Azul’s dream, let’s review what Anon has to say.

I feel like, no matter what, there will always be people claiming that the OB boys’ dreams are “missed opportunities”. This is simply because these characters have much more deep and complex issues than the rest of the cast, so we will naturally scrutinize them more. TWST is basically only able to go with one angle when they tackle the dream, leaving the other threads unexplored. This will surely annoy or disappoint people who wish that TWST would have addressed a different issue instead, or perhaps something closer to their personal interpretation of the events. In Azul’s case, I feel like some people (particularly in the west, not so much in the east) see Azul’s weight concerns or relationship with food as a prominent part of his character, so they wish that book 7 part 10 had looked into that more. However, that was never a big focus in canon, so it follows that TWST would want to dedicate its time and resources to the most pressing thing (which would be more centered on Azul’s general self-confidence, greed, and how those tie into his sense of identity). At the same time, they probably wanted to avoid a lens that is too broad. Having the focus be on Azul’s “otherness” or being an octopus might veer too heavily into something way beyond the scope of the ~10 parts of the story he has to himself.

We also need to consider that these dreams are meant to be shallow interpretations of what the dreamer desires (according to Idia). Only the OB boys get to go more in depth due to bring dragged down into deeper layers of their dreams. Azul wants to be accepted by his peers and is insecure about his lack of athleticism (as one reason why he was bullied was due to not being able to swim as fast as other merchildren). So of course the surface level of his dream makes him a star athlete beloved by all. The whole “his plan succeeds, he steals everyone’s magic, he takes over NRC” thing happens in the second layer of his dream, which, like all previous OB boys, is a dark display of what would have happened had they not been stopped. And finally, Azul being a bully is nothing new—we saw this behavior back in book 3 as well. He became the very thing he despised back when he was a victim, and now he continues to perpetuate that cycle of bullying in an effort to affirm confidence in his “cool” new identity. I think the dream was very intentional in trying to entice him with the promises of power and acceptance. That, in turn, shows us that the desire to be a successful businessman (the thing many of us thought would be his dream) actually hinges on Azul’s longing to be accepted. His struggle with his identity and how it depends on how others perceive him was portrayed. I’m just not sure if the idea was executed in the best way, since it sounds like the message may have gotten muddled along the way and it definitely requires some reading between the lines.

I noticed that you cited my original post where I detailed my concerns about book 7 and how that has influenced your own thoughts 💦 I hope that it just… informed or supplemented your opinions rather than suddenly altered them to be more “in line” with my own. I never want to be the kind of person who claims their interpretations are the “most correct” I’m not Riddle’s mom, okay?? 😭

About Jade and Floyd’s dreams, I feel like those are less heavily critiqued because they, by virtue of not being an OB boy, have fewer stakes and are predominantly there to be silly. It’s like contrasting Epel wanting to be big and buff to Vil literally murdering Neige; there is just no comparison. Even then, I wouldn’t necessarily say Floyd’s and Jade’s parts received “all the budget”… They seemed like pretty basic storylines to me, perhaps dressed up slightly better thanks to the new undersea assets and bioluminescence reveal.

My issues with Azul’s dream segment is how… ham-fisted several elements were. All of it, for the sake of sticking to the pattern already established earlier. It feels so unnatural and stilted because you just KNOW it’s written this way to fit the template 😔 For example:

Why did Jade become SO dumb when they were trying to figure out where Azul had moved the contracts? He’s supposed to be much smarter than how he is presented here. Wouldn’t his immediate thought be to check Azul’s room? But NO, Jade can’t come to that conclusion on his own because we need a contrived reason for each student to use their UM before the ending :/ so Jade has to waste time using his UM to get the truth out of his dream!self.

Jade and Floyd sitting around and going “………….” while they watch Azul make an ass of himself was such a time waster. Clearly you have enough brains to know what would trigger him, so why are you not acting on it???? Oh yeah, because we need to show more cool stuff in this dream like La Grotta!

Azul literally turns to the camera and tells his OB self, “Unlike you, I’ve changed.” It’s way too on the nose with what it’s trying to communicate. It breaks immersion and makes it so obvious the characters are outright stating their character development to make sure we all “get it”.

What was the purpose of Azul using his UM to get the mermobs to sign a contract to give all their power to him???💀 Bro can just say “excuse me, I forgot something back at the Coral Rush field” and they’d probably let him pass. But again, Azul isn’t allowed to do that because he MUST use his UM before the ending. Because Azul’s UM requires that another person willingly agree and sign a contract, his mandatory UM use before the grand finale feels particularly forced.

How many times do I need to listen to Idia/Ortho or other characters warn us about how we can’t have too many people dream hopping or else bugs might happen or Malleus might notice… It’s almost like the devs realize how long this is being dragged out for so they have to remind us every so often.

Not only that, but we get such poorly constructed explanations to keep characters behind while a new character goes with the main group. Why don’t you just leave them all behind once they’re awake then?? Oh yeah, because we NEED to drag along the current student into the next dream so everyone gets a cameo. It’s so inorganic how the characters are chosen to stay behind, Jamil just conveniently volunteers himself while we also listen to another spiel from Silver and Sebek about how their training makes them more stable than the twins to keep dream hopping.

I would actually consider Azul’s dream… serviceable? Like it isn’t fantastic or anything but for what it is, it works. It’s cohesive enough. But god, did I dislike how rigid it was… Nothing happens because it’s natural, it happens because the script demands it happens. To quote another post:

If anyone has played the first Ace Attorney game, this feels a LOT like that part in case 2 where Phoenix is too dumb to check the back of a receipt until Mia literally tells him to. The [characters have] to actively be made stupider because the scenario calls for it, and that really rubs me the wrong way.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Pairing: John Price x fem!oc (3rd person pov)

Word count: 4.4 K

Warnings/tags: smut, p in v sex, established relationship, pet names, suggestive dialogue, swearing, drinking, caught in the rain, stuck in a blackout, couple plays truth or dare, super long winded set up for porn, and a slightly rushed ending

NSFW taglist [opt in/out]: @imogenkol @illmetbymoonlight @roofgeese @efingart @inafieldofdaisies

@raresvtm @evvie-a @an-drawer @clicheantagonist @rc-dragons

@la-grosse-patate @direwombat @solstheimart @statichvm @cassietrn

@lady-eudaemonia @strafethesesinners @thedeadthree @voidika @mutantthedark

@strangefable @simplegenius042 @writeforfandoms @quantum-lover @heroofshield

Rain pelts down on the concrete streets of London, the scent of cool drops hitting hot pavement one of the rare scents that could only be attributed to summer in the middle of the city – not quite petrichor, but that bleach clean scent of ozone remained apparent as the storm builds to its height. Thunder booms, shrouding once sunny skies in clouds the colour of deep bruises, shades of purple and green, while lightning cracks in bright luminescent streaks worthy of ancient beliefs in Thor or Zeus’ wrath.

Amongst the masses splashing through the quickly pooling puddles, John rushes Rory inside their townhouse, his jacket held over their heads as a deterrent from the rain, though it does little good as the precipitation pours with the steady flow of a broken faucet on full blast, an absolute deluge coming down at once. They're soaked. Drowned rats with matted hair and sopping wet layers of clothing glued to their forms. 

Once inside the four walls meant to shelter them, they are no safer from the clutches of the storm. Rory flicks at the switch by the front door – click-click, click-click – doing nothing at all. The interior of the townhouse left tenebrous, shadows creeping in from the darkened corners. “Bollocks,” she mutters under her breath, heading to the coat closet and grabbing the candles and battery-operated lamps in her power outage kit – even in an unplanned crisis the woman is never unprepared. 

Water sloshes off of her as she moves about, dripping down the contours of her face from her drenched hair as John grumbles, peeling off waterlogged shoes and socks by the front door, his jacket in no better shape. “Worse spots we could be in, love. At least we’re at ‘ome, liquor cabinet stocked, gas is still on so we can cook the perishables.” “Yes. Yes, I know. Ever the pragmatist, John,” she snarks before heading to the kitchen for the lighter. “Comes with being a Captain.”

His reply is muffled as he moves down the hall, the sound of wet bare feet slapping on hardwood floors following after him, and she rolls her eyes. “Well make sure ‘the captain’ mops up after himself, yeah? Don’t need puddles on my floor,” she calls back. Rory begins lighting candles and placing them around the kitchen, filling the space with the warm amber glow of firelight flickering as a draught from the open window flows throughout. Entering moments later, John rubs a towel through his hair and tosses it at her after she places the last candle on the table in the corner nook. 

“Cheers.” She runs the terry cloth through damp strands, rustling it back and forth, leaving her hair a wild, haphazard mess of waves. “So, what do we do to pass the time for the next however many hours?”

A smirk is the only reply she receives from the bulky man in her periphery. Piercing eyes, normally steely and hard while focused on war and staying alive, sparkle with playful intent. A life to them that Rory only finds in their moments alone. The man who, when they’re miles away from base, gets to fold up and pack away things like duty and honor the way he does his clean laundry neatly into drawers.

“Fuck off, you do not have the refractory period of a 15 year old boy, pillock.” Tossing the soggy towel back at him with a grin, it slaps against his barrel chest like a dead octopus. A hearty chuckle fills the room, blue eyes sparkling from behind crinkled lines in his face. “Mind out o’the gutter, my girl. Was just gonna say we could take a nap.” Bouncing on his heels, proud as a peacock with the way he grins at her. 

She hums skeptically, “Is that so?” Her fingers curl around her hips as she stands before him, challenging him like always. “And Soap doesn’t have a bloody rolodex going of numbers he gets from the bar.” “That may be so,” John purrs, drawing closer, dropping off the soggy towel onto the top of the kitchen island. Strong arms wrap around her waist as he stands behind her, drawing her closer to him, grinding his hips against her backside. His mouth near her ear, the bristles of his beard tickle her cheek. “But I think we can both agree after going a round or two together, a rest is often necessary,” he breathes seductively, voice rough and low with desire. “Isn’t that right, love?” “So much for my mind being the one in the gutter.”

He tips his head to the side, angling it to better kiss the side of her neck, plush lips softly pressing to sensitive skin. “Could do something else instead with our time,” Rory offers.

“Like what?” He mumbles against her, lost in his own advances while nuzzling against her slick flesh. Collecting drops of rainwater that roll down the smooth column of her neck on his whiskers.

“Truth or dare? Share a bottle of whiskey while we do it?”

His laugh is a deep rumble in his chest, vibrating against her slender body and through her back as his hands knead at moist clothing cleaving to her frame. “You want to play a bloody kid’s party game?” 

Rory shrugs, nonchalant. “Why not?” “Sure know how to drive a hard bargain, Sinclair,” he snickers.

“Oi, on your bike.” Her elbow moves to gently nudge him in the stomach, her nose wrinkling as she plays up her mock annoyance.  

“Fine. Are we playin’ ‘7 minutes in Heaven’ while we’re at it then?” A lopsided smile pulling at his mouth as his brow cocks.

“That’s for afterwards.” With a frisky wink she grabs a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the counter. “Now, come on.” Placing them on the floor, she sits with her back resting against a cabinet and pours them each a double. The amber liquid streaming in carefully controlled twists of her wrist, she’s a woman well-practiced in the art of a properly measured dram. John sighs and slowly lowers to the floor, careful with his knees and lower back as he settles, his long legs stretched out between his place against the oven door and the kitchen island in front of him. She slides one of the drinks across the tiles towards him and they clink their glasses together in a toast. “To the most ridiculous way two grown military officers could possibly spend their time together.” A bright, lilting giggle fills the space between them as dimples carve into her cheeks. 

“Haven’t done this since before I was at Sandhurst,” he muses quietly, lifting the glass and bringing it to his lips, taking a hefty sip. “Without the drink, ‘course.”

“Oh, of course.”

Sitting in the dark of their kitchen, candles aglow, it was more intimate than it likely should have been considering their choice of entertainment for the foreseeable future while the power was out. Sipping at their drinks, enjoying the smooth, warm burn of the top shelf liquor Rory always had in her collection, they sat together as if it were any other Saturday evening. “Right, sweetheart. Truth or Dare?” John asks, breaking the silence first.

“Truth.”

“Really?” Placing the glass down on the floor beside him with a gentle crystal chime against the dark marble. “Right off the bat, not even going to go for a little danger? What happened to my brave Lieutenant, eh?” His crooked grin appears all the more sinister in the dampened light.

“Yeah, and if I hadn’t said ‘truth’ you would have given me shit about ‘not trusting you’. So piss off, you bloody prat.” He laughs once more, nodding. “Probably right, I just might’ve.” Blue eyes roam around the ebony wood cabinets of the kitchen as he thinks of a fitting question for Rory’s first choice of truth. “Our very first time together – would we have still ended up in the stall if I had the mutton chops?”

Rory, choking on the sip of whiskey she was currently drinking, coughs up the alcohol as she pats her hand against her chest, laughing. Her voice a throaty croak as she speaks, “Fucking hell, not pulling any punches, are we?” “Well?” He remains stoic, waiting for her answer, the brusque response of the Captain and not John. A barely visible curl pulls at the corner of his lips. 

“Probably.” She angles her head to the side and examines him in detail, roaming over him, imagining the baby-faced Lieutenant she met all those years ago with her future husband’s choice of facial hair. “Not exactly a look most girls are used to seeing, however. Few men can pull off the style of someone who would blend in rather nicely in an old west saloon.” A smirk pulling at her full lips as she jokes with him. 

“Probably?” John’s heavy brow furrows as his penetrating gaze lands on her, burning into her like a laser sight.

“Don’t know how the 23-year-old me would’ve felt about them.” Her one shoulder lifts in a shrug. She’s never been anything but honest with him, John having always appreciated her bluntness.

“Ah, so it takes a more mature and refined woman to respect ‘em, yeah? Not worthy of a bathroom stall, but a romp in a tent suits ‘em just fine?”

Laughing, her head tosses back, amplifying it. “Fine, you got me there.” Stretching out from her cross legged position, prodding his shin with her toes, she taunts him, continuing the schoolyard antics that started with the choice of game.

However, she’s met by the swift response of John leaning towards her and taking her hand in his. Her dainty one overwhelmed by his grip as he brings her knuckles to his lips, kissing them softly, the stubble of his beard brushing against her soft flesh. “Glad I waited to grow ‘em out then.”

“Wouldn’t have you any other way now.” Hazel eyes sparkle as she gazes at him, reflecting the candlelight in the amber flecks of her emerald depths. 

“Suits me, my girl.”

A cozy moment of silence settles between them, smiling at one another, rapt in one another’s shared attention. Six years together. It wasn’t all bliss, but it certainly suited them, with enough memories to fill several albums. Love, the most earnest either of them had ever felt, and it was only for each other. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” John answered, not hesitating for a moment as he released her hand.

“Find the most embarrassing item of clothing you have in the closet, and tell me why.”

“Cheatin’.” He points his finger at her, suddenly a stickler for the rules. “Tha’s a truth and a dare.”

“Maybe so, but fuck it, if we’re gonna play a teenager’s game we might as well have teenager’s rules.”

Steely eyes narrow, his mouth purses making his mustache twitch in response. “Is this just a chance f’you to make fun of that Christmas sweater mum got me last year?”

Shaking her head, she works to hold in a chuckle that tries it’s hardest to sneak past tight lips. “I didn’t say dorky, I said embarrassing. Something with a little more meaning behind it than a big reindeer head with a light up nose – as adorable as that was on you,” she teases.

Jaw clenching, his nose wrinkles as he grimaces. “Fuckin’ ‘ell.” Rising with a grumble, he uses his mobile flashlight to find his way through the darkened home. In the silence, free from the usual electrical hum of appliances, Rory relaxes against the cupboard and sips her drink. Quiet and her weren’t usually on good terms. Unlike John, her peace was found through noise, chaos. Silence simply let the ghosts that haunted her seep in, her usual means of coping keeping them at bay. But, for once, she seems to enjoy the relative calm. A certain sensory deprivation about the stillness and the dark, the peaceful hypnotic dance of candle flames flickering around her, keeping her from drifting too far into the shadows in her head. 

Arriving back in the kitchen several minutes later, John unfurls an old Motorhead tee shirt, the once black material now worn out and grayed with age. 

“Motorhead?” Her brow lifts. “How is that embarrassing? I already know your music taste, love.” A cheeky smirk pulls at her lips as she crosses her arms over her chest.

He sighs and drags a hand through his hair. “You wanted the story behind it, yeah?” His brow lifts to meet hers, staring at her from under the ridge, frustration apparent on his face. “So, let me tell it.”

“Go on then.” Holding out her hand in an invitation to him to sit and tell the tale. As he sits, her hands return to the space between her lap, cupping the glass that sits nestled between her thighs, body heat warming the last sips of liquor inside.

“Right. So, before we met – the first time, I mean – there was a bird. Had just gone and seen the band live in concert on my leave, been sweating and fighting my arse off in Iraq before that, meant to give this to her before I left again,” he says, gripping the shirt tight in his fist like he’s choking the life from it, the tendons in his arms standing out in stark relief. “Didn’t work out, for several reasons.” By the tone of his voice, she can already tell it was less than amicable. No wonder he had been looking for a quick hook up the same way she had all those years ago. “But I liked the shirt,” he shrugs, “Had it sitting at the back of the closet for years now.” Tossing the shirt away from him, it skids across the floor in a crumpled mess. Rory’s eyes follow it’s trajectory, attuned to the movement like it's a target in the sight of her scope. Her gut churns, annoyed with herself for making him dredge up the past. She glances back at him, chewing on her lip, her brows knitting together as that natural predilection to be a smartass to cover for the tension boils up inside her. But she can’t. Not like this. 

“You’re a better person than I. Would have burned the damn thing, good riddance too. The bitch,” she snarls.

A smirk plays at the corner of John’s mouth at her reaction. Glancing up, he grunts, the little growl from the back of his throat a response to the possessive hint in Rory’s tone as he lifts his glass to take another drink. 

Sparks flare in her eyes, an idea coming to mind, the little fireball John’s madly in love with coming out to play. She could never sit idly by when she had the chance to solve a problem. “Tell you what, you and me, we’re going to make a good memory with it.”

Wiping his mouth with the side of his hand after swigging back his last sip, his voice is hoarse with the burn. “What the ‘ell are you on about?”

“Well, we’ve made very good memories together quite often, haven’t we?” She purrs, implying the obvious as she snatches the shirt from its puddle of material it landed in on the floor. “There is no way I am letting some slag ruin this for you, my darling.” “What d’you suggest then, sweetheart?” he asks with a cocky lift of his brow. “Clothes are wet anyhow.” 

Peeling off her damp shirt like a second skin, Rory then unhooks her bra. Tossing both articles of clothing to the side as she smiles at him, her intense doe-eyed stare seemingly bottomless in the shadowy kitchen. “Bloody good start, love.” His heated gaze roams over her exposed chest, a sight he’s seen a thousand times before, and still that predatory stare residing just below the surface comes creeping back up to the forefront. Skin the complexion of peaches and cream glows, illuminated by dancing flames licking at wicks, shadows and highlights forming over the scars that blemish her skin from combat. Standing, she unbuttons her trousers, letting the wide legged black pants fall to the ground and drape around her feet. John’s hand deftly sneaking in before they pool around her ankles to grab her glass on the floor, finishing off the last dregs of it himself. Slipping her panties down next, stepping out of the pile of wet clothes, she kicks them away and grabs the oversized band tee. The threadbare cotton hugging her lithe form as she stands over him, hands on her hips. 

“Even better, you ask me.” His stare sparkles mischievously up at her from his spot on the floor, unmoved. Square jaw going slack as he swallows thickly, pushing the glasses away from him, his steadily stiffening erection growing more evident by the moment as it strains against the material of his gray sweatpants.

A quiet, breathy giggle leaves her as she lowers to sit in his lap, legs straddled on either side of his thick, muscular thighs. Her forehead resting against his as she gazes into his eyes and whispers, “When you see this shirt in future, I just want you to think of that time you shagged your wife-to-be thoroughly on the kitchen floor during a blackout.”

“Can do, my girl,” John rumbles as his hands lift to rest on the curve of her waist, gripping her tight.  

Cocking her head to the side, angling it to better mark his mouth with her lips, she kisses him ardently. The rough pads of his fingers curl under her chin as he pulls her closer to him, their lips meet in a searing embrace. 

With little coaxing, the waistband of his sweatbands rolls down his hips. His cock hard, ready to be made of use, thick and heavy. Eyes smoldering with desire, he watches her every move as she settles down on his length, her tight sex enveloping him in its velvet grip. Wet heat. Pure bliss. Groaning – a low, guttural sound – he buries his face in the crook of her neck. Hot breath fanning against her, the skin below becoming moist, his beard burning against sensitive flesh. She starts to move, and his hips rise to meet her, thrusting to drive deeper with each roll of her hips and lift of her toned thighs. Breaths are punched from her lungs as he buries himself inside her, muscles visibly flexing with each shift of her body. A dance, one they've perfected over the years, a rhythm that brings them both to that sweet edge.

As if on cue, John begins to lavish her in praise. Give and take. The ebb and flow of the ever shifting landscape of who leads and which one follows, a comfortable equality within their dichotomy that never fails to work for both parties, knowing exactly what works for each of them to reach that inevitable peak.

"Fuck, Rory," he growls, grabbing at her for leverage. "So fuckin’ perfect f’me.” 

Large, rough paws grip at her waist possessively, pulling her close as if he needs the anchor. He bucks his hips, desperate to delve deeper, but her pace remains deliberate, maddening. A sense of control that causes a smile to tug at the corner of his mouth as he watches her ride him, the sight of her body undulating over his, a work of art.

Flesh meets at several points of contact, penetrated folds and warm hands sliding up the curves of her body send sparks through her nerves. Goosebumps rise, left behind along his ascent towards the firm peaks of her breasts, gentle swells hidden by the excess material of his oversized shirt. As deft fingers tease at her pebbled nipples below the shirt, pinching and pulling, Rory increases the pace in his lap, rocking with a meter that matches the pounding of her heart.

"Yes, just like that, my girl. Doin’ so good, sweetheart,” he groans, hoarse and panting. 

Encased in her body, control slipping, needs demanding to be met, the rhythm builds, sounds of lovemaking growing louder. 

"God, I love you," John mumbles as he nuzzles against her once more. The words, heavy with emotion, fall from his lips, a testament to the bond they share. In this moment, there is no war, no death, no fear - only the two of them, entwined in passion. Rory moans, breathless, her desire carrying her forward. Her arms wrap around his broad shoulders, and her fingers card through cropped hair at his nape. “Love you too, my darling,” she whispers against the shell of his ear. Her soft breaths against him fanning the flames between them.

It’s not a sentiment that is often shared aloud, one saved for moments of life or death or intense vulnerability. But, as he looks up at her, there is a depth of adoration in his eyes that cannot be denied, a devotion and desire that is as fierce as it is tender. This is a man who has killed for her and will likely do so again – when he says love, she knows he means it. Their mouths collide, tongues sliding against each other, lips wrapped in a tight seal that lets not a single breath escape. Sounds of pleasure pass between them as they share everything else in their lives. Home. In his arms she finds solace from bullets flying overhead or silent nights marred by guilt-ridden dreams; this sanctuary exists nowhere else on Earth but right here between them.

John carefully lowers her to the floor, his hand cradling the back of her head, protecting her like some fragile prize as she comes to rest against the tile floor, supine. His mouth refusing to leave hers – firm, adamant kisses claim her lips. A low groan coming from him as he kneels on the hard floor between her thighs. His touch trails up her body, tracing curves he’s felt a hundred times before and still never gets enough of. 

She watches him the whole way down to the floor, her eyes locked on his in a heated exchange. He’s the one, she thinks, and her heart confirms it as it races, her chest rising and falling with short, heavy breaths. She’s never been more sure of anything in her life, of anyone – just him. 

His strong hands slide up her arms, lifting them to bring them up over her head, held there as their hands clasp together. His scarred knuckle brushing against the gold, diamond-set band on her ring finger, a stark reminder of the life they have planned together, entangled forever. The needy head of his cock nudges against her entrance, pushing against her slick folds, as it begs for re-entry. Aching for him, the momentary emptiness felt deep within her. Whimpering together at the gentle pressure before her heat welcomes him in once more, inch by inch, he slides in until their hips meet, taking her slow and deep on the floor of their kitchen. Her back arches, lifting to unite with him. Mewling desperately, not caring if the neighbors hear. Every touch of his mouth and tongue along her jawline and down her throat towards her collarbone drives her wild as she sinks further into her choreographed submission, a practiced performance, knowing the steps forwards and backwards and never showing signs of needing another partner. 

“John,” she breathes his name as his hips continue to move against hers, their chests pressed together with only a shirt that had once left a bad taste in his mouth between them, now slick with their combined sweat. 

“Yeah, love?” He looks down at her, his brow furrowed with concentration, jaw flexing below his scruff as his adam’s apple bobs with each heavy breath and thick swallow. 

Her body begins to show the tell-tale signs of her impending climax, her muscles tightening in her legs, toes curling, the flush that grows from her chest to her cheeks warming her from the inside out and melding with the heat of his body pinned to hers on the cold kitchen tiles. Her stomach muscles flutter, her cunt clenching down on the thick of him. “I’m so close,” she whines. “I know, darlin’,” he husks as the tip of his nose nudges at the side of her neck where her pulse thunders. His lips sucking on her salty flesh stained with sweat, rasping against her, “Come for me, Rory.”

She clings to his hands held to hers, nails digging into the tendons and scars on the back of them. Long, toned legs wrapping around his waist as her body begs to be even closer to him, linked as one. Her breath hitches just before she cries out and her vision blurs, her eyes rolling back as each pulse from her core floods her body, weaving its way up her spine. 

Lost for a moment, unable to find her way in the dark, forgetting where she is, she succumbs to the ravages of John’s single-minded focus on her body. Letting their dance sweep her away as he continues to thrust, chasing his own release. Her body heavy, weighted with the pleasure of release, sinks into the sturdy floor below and she enjoys the jolts of sensation that build up inside her once again with his attention.

The slick of them moving together, the rise and fall of their bodies in unison, the tight contractions around him, drives the two ever nearer to the end of their waltz. His grip on her hands tightens in return, holding her in place as each pump of his cock becomes more erratic. More urgent. 

“Fuck, Ror,” he grunts, “Nearly fuckin’ there.”

The wet noises of their coupling echo through the kitchen, meeting with the incessant patter of rain outside the window. A convergence in tempo with his last surging thrust as he can no longer hold back, cumming deep inside her.

He releases his hold on her, their palms both sweaty and red from the grip they had on each other. Pulling her into his arms, their sweat mingles as he cradles her close. "Tha's my girl," John murmurs, his fingers running through her hair as his hand snakes up the back of her neck. “Gonna need you to wear that shirt more often now, I s’pose.”

It’s a simple comfort, the afterglow of passion, basking in it while the storm continues to rage outside, but they were right where they were supposed to be. They belong to each other, plain and simple, and neither would have it any other way.

[preciouslandmermaid]

of songbirds, swords, and spice (3)

pairing: Opla!Zoro x Opla!Sanji x Fem! Reader (no use of Y/N or L/N)

tw: none

🏴‍☠️ read on AO3 🏴‍☠️

(masterpost)

<- (previous chapter)

You awoke to Mimi hitting your face with her soft paw while sitting on your chest. You rolled over, causing Mimi to leap off and onto your pillows. She meowed, offended.

"Good morning," you grumbled, blindly reaching out to pet her, but she stayed out of the reach of your fingertips. These mornings never get old. You didn't know why Mimi didn't bother Estella instead, considering the older woman often woke before you. I'll find Estella in the gazebo outside at this hour. You rolled over again, watching the clouds pass behind your green curtains, and thought of the moss-haired swordsman. I bet he's already gone. The whole crew probably set sail this morning.

Mimi meowed louder this time.

"Yes, I'm awake."

The day waited for no man (or cat). Mimi wound her body through your ankles, determined to trip you and meowing incessantly until you finally fed her. Afterward, you opened the back door to the sound of giggling children and laughing adults.

"Big sister!" Clover, a seven-year-old girl with bright lilac eyes and long dark hair, ran to you. "Play jump rope with us!"

"We don't—" your words cut off, realizing that the unfamiliar laughter belonged to Luffy, and he was using his rubberized arm as a jump rope. Aiden's brown curls bounced when he jumped, his face red and serious.

"Mornin'," Luffy said your name, "you can have a turn after Aiden, but he's doing a seriously good job; like, look at this – it's impressive!"

Clover said, "We're waiting for Sanji to finish cooking, and then we get to have a great big feast. Isn't that right, Grandma?"

Estella's eyes glimmered like melted toffee, "Indeed, that's right, my girl." She sat under the shade of a palm tree beside Nami and smiled at you.

Suddenly, three children screeched in delight, and you turned to your left to see Usopp gesturing wildly.

"The great octopus was upon us!" he said, "and so I lifted my slingshot. That's when I realized I only had one ammunition left..."

Utakuro, Ann, and Badger were wholly absorbed in his story, their eyes bright and small arms clinging to one another like they were each other's lifeboats. You took a small, hesitant step backward. It's too late to hide back in the house. You didn't want to go into the kitchen despite your rumbling stomach. Not because you disliked Sanji, but because you weren't sure how to cope with all of this...exuberance. It wasn't even midday, and everyone acted like today was a big party. Did everyone forget the golden cupid was attacked and destroyed last night?

Aiden flopped onto the sand, panting.

"Okay, big sister, it's your turn." Clover pulled you forward. Why is she so strong for a seven-year-old? You thought ruefully. You couldn't argue with Clover (unless you wanted to lose). Her willpower and stubbornness were as terrifying as a tsunami.

Luffy asked, "Ready?"

You shrugged and blinked the last dredges of sleep from your eyes.

"On three," you said.

"You're a great help, Clover," Sanji said as the little girl helped him carry the large platters of food. She giggled in response and carried the plate of onigiri to the picnic blanket.

"About time," Zoro quipped, sitting cross-legged and leaning against the palm tree. Sanji's gaze slid over the ill-tempered swordsman, ignoring him, and focused on you. You laid on your back, your face shiny with sweat, and a small brown-haired child – no older than five, Sanji guessed – sat on your chest.

"Get up, big sister!" the child said, pulling at the front of your shirt. "Come on! Again!"

Sanji thought you looked radiant.

"Not now, Aiden," you said.

"She needs to regain her strength," Sanji added. He saw Luffy and the children playing jump rope from the kitchen window. When you joined, your expression was fond and exasperated. Sanji was surprised and touched. How many layers do you have, performer? He wondered to himself. A decent fighter, loved by children, looking after your grandmother...There was so much about you he didn't know and likely would never learn. He doubted Luffy would stay at Nightingale Island for another day. The Grand Line awaited them.

He set down the platter containing the main dish: stuffed rolled omelets with spinach and mozzarella alongside steamed rice, onigiri, and miso soup. The technique to roll the omelet had been tricky but rewarding, and his heart glowed with pride. He loved cooking, and more than the act itself—he loved sharing his cooking.

"This looks amazing, Sanji," Luffy said.

Estella said, "It does. Thank you again, Sanji."

Sanji smiled softly. "It was no trouble." He offered a plate to Estella. "And might I add that you are absolutely radiant this morning, Madam."

You chuckled. "Don't fall for his charm, Grandma."

"I've got plenty of charm to spare," he said, "I thought you were beautiful last night, but you're even more stunning in the daylight."

He assumed you'd roll your eyes, scoff, or laugh awkwardly, which were the typical reactions whenever he flirted with a woman. However, you surprised him for the second time this morning. You held your plate, the steam wafting toward your chin, and stared at him. His face prickled with awareness. He felt flayed, like raw fish on the cutting board, before your perceptive eyes cut away and left him dumbfounded. What was that? He cleared his throat and adjusted his smile back onto his face before serving the brown-haired boy – Aiden – a small portion of omelet and rice.

"Are you leaving today?" You asked the crew.

He watched your graceful hands push Clover's long, straight hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ears. Clover grinned up at you and whispered a soft 'thank you' before she started to eat. They've got quite the little family here. He wondered what would happen if someone wanted to adopt Clover or any other children or if they remained in Celesta's home for lost children until adulthood.

"Probably," answered Luffy.

Your eyes fell to your plate, but Sanji wasn't sure if it was disappointment or relief that crossed your lovely face.

"I do have a favor to ask," Estella said, "if you wouldn't mind hearing me out. You've already done so much for us, so I won't take it personally if you refuse."

At her words, your eyes snapped upward, and you groaned aloud.

"Shush, songbird." Estella patted the back of your hand.

Zoro muttered, "Saving your business wasn't enough?"

Nami elbowed him, and Sanji glared at the moss-head. He has no social tact. Although he suspected Nami was only interested in the monetary benefit of helping the affluent Madam Estella. However, Luffy rarely turned down an opportunity to help someone. He liked that about their captain, even if it got them into trouble. You pushed the leftover food on your plate onto Aiden's and ruffled his brown curls.

"On the other side of Nightingale Island is a place known as Raven's Crag."

"A myth," you interrupted, "a fairy tale that we tell tourists."

"Inside Raven's Crags is an ivory puzzle box. A part of Pandora's treasure, I believe." She said, ignoring your interruption. "I'm too old to get it. It's the final piece of my collection. I know you said I should get it regardless of my age, but I can't leave the island, which is why –"

Luffy cut in, "Completing this collection is your dream, right?"

"It is."

Luffy said, "We'll help you."

"She'll go with you." Estella gestured to you. "It's good to get her out of the house."

"But, Grandma, the shows!"

Sanji's heart swelled. She sounds like me when I wouldn't leave Zeff. He couldn't help but acknowledge the similarities between you both. You and Estella shared an intense bond that transcended any blood you shared, and he wished to know more. He wanted to understand your relationship with the old woman. He wanted to understand you. You interested him.

"Your show doesn't happen until the next full moon, and besides, we need to repair the golden cupid anyway." Estella smiled and cupped your cheek. "Do me this favor, my girl."

Perhaps I'll have time to ask her when aboard the Merry.

"Fine," you said it begrudgingly.

"Cool!" Clover's eyes brightened. "Big sister gets to go on an adventure."

Several of the children, many of whom Sanji didn't know the names of, began to speak at once.

"I want to come!"

"Me too!"

"You're not old enough."

"I am."

"I want to be like the brave Captain Usopp!"

"Does big sister get a sword?"

"I want a sword!"

"Enough, enough." Estella's voice rang out above the rest. "Nami, could we speak in my trinket room? That's where I keep all my maps."

Nami, balancing her plate on her knees, said, "Of course."

Zoro stood with his arms crossed outside Estella's trinket room. This annoying black cat kept running into his ankles and making soft 'prrupb' noises. He gently pushed the cat away with his foot for the thousandth time.

"Get lost," he grumbled.

The cat, undeterred, rolled onto its back and wiggled.

"Whatever," Zoro said to the cat, "I'm going to the ship."

The cat trotted ahead of him as if it was leading the way. This stupid cat was going to trip him. He nudged the cat away, but it continued to follow him.

Zoro said, "What're you doing? You live here. Stay."

The staircase creaked behind him. He turned to see you dressed comfortably and holding a bag over your shoulder. He searched your face, waiting for that feeling to overtake him like it did in the golden cupid, but nothing happened. It must've been some kind of fluke, he told himself, some part of the performance. Maybe they spike their booze with something.

"Good luck getting Mimi to listen," you said, adjusting the strap of your bag. "She listens to two things in this world – fresh tuna and live mice."

"She doesn't listen to you then?" he said, pushing the black ball of fluff to the side, watching her short and stubby feet scramble against the hardwood. Determined little creature, he'd give it that credit at least.

You laughed. "Nope."

Nami entered the hallway holding a map and said, "Okay, it should only take us about four hours to reach Raven's Crag."

"That's plenty of time for a nap at least," said Zoro.

"Didn't you already sleep in this morning?" Sanji tucked his hands into his pockets, tilting his head slightly. Zoro's pulse throbbed inside his temples. Annoying ass, nosy cook.

"That's not your business, is it?"

Luffy slung his arms over Zoro and Sanji's shoulders, "Enough talking! Estella's treasure is waiting for us. Let's go!"

Mimi's black tail stood at attention, and she trotted soundlessly in the sand behind the pirates.

You unintentionally trailed behind the crew, perhaps out of some subconscious urge to delay your departure. You disliked that Estella tossed you into this situation, but you understood her reasoning.

It wasn't that she wanted you out of the house. It was the fact that she trusted you. Traveling to Raven's Crag was risky enough regardless of whether someone traveled by sea or by land, which was why she never sent you alone. Estella saw an opportunity within these pirates. That's all this was.

Sanji slowed his long strides until he was walking with you.

"Zeff," he said suddenly, "that's his name."

"Huh? Who?"

"The person who Estella reminds me of," Sanji said.

The sunlight caressed its light through his white-blonde hair and framed his lean form. His dark suit jacket, hooked by two fingers, swung over his shoulder. If you didn't know any better or hadn't seen him fight with your own eyes, then you wouldn't have suspected Sanji to be anything more than a well-dressed tourist. The palm trees rustled and swayed overhead, listening silently to your conversation.

"Our ship was caught in a terrible storm after being attacked by Zeff's crew," he said, his eyes bright in the sun. "We were stranded on a rock together for weeks."

"Quite the bonding experience," you said.

Sanji chuckled softly. "Indeed."

He continued his story, although you couldn't surmise the reason as to why he felt compelled to share it. He told you about his shared dream with Zeff to find the 'All Blue' and how Zeff ate his own leg rather than allow Sanji to starve. The pieces started to click into place. On some level, Sanji understands how Estella takes care of me, even though he doesn't know the whole story.

However, you weren't inclined to share your story with him even after he graciously shared his. You saw the similarities between Sanji and yourself. Estella was an older woman, someone to whom you felt indebted, who looked after you as much as you looked after her. She didn't lose a limb to save you, but she would have—if it came to it. And you would gladly risk life and limb for her. That was the depth of your bond.

You stopped walking, and sunlight poured heat across your exposed skin like liquid gold. Your heartbeat felt loud in your ears. You were half-aware of Luffy excitedly talking as he boarded the Going Merry.

Sanji said your name with curiosity and concern, bleeding through his tone.

You met his eyes and let their intense all-blue burn into you.

"It sounds like he loved you," you said.

Sanji's expression shuddered as your words hit their mark. You didn't intend to wound him. Not exactly, anyway. However, you needed a well-placed truth to silence him. You didn't need Sanji to draw conclusions about your relationship with Estella. You needed him to mind his business, make breakfast, and help you find Pandora's final puzzle box. You weren't here to make friends.

Sanji shook his head. "Speaking of love," he said quickly.

"Yeah, speaking of love, I'd love some peace and quiet," you said before he could continue his thought.

Nami laughed from her spot at the helm, and you smiled to yourself.

Sitting on the sheep head, Luffy lifted his arms overhead and yelled, "To Raven's Crag!"

-> next chapter

[nemo-in-wonderland]

Honestly it's amazing how a second Playthrough could change SO MANY ideas I had for Aranea and her relationship with the rest of the Canon characters.

Like, during the first playthrough, when I still didn't know exactly who she was, and where she was coming from, I was mostly going with my own personal preferences aka the one that I knew I would get along with as a person, the one that mostly resonated with me in terms of morality etc. etc.

But now that I am truly entering in the thick of things of Act 1, I realized how different everything is now.

Like, I am just LOVING playing her as a little chaotic gremlin, having her fun on the Material plane after 200 years spent in Cania, bringing plenty of mischief around, not a care in the world, and having Astarion tagging along because by the gods, she better than most can understand WHY he desires power so much.

I can actually see her opening up a bit about what caused her to seek the power of Mephistopheles for herself, and revealing to him what she did when she avenged Halim, and finding actually a sympathetic ear, because I know that, among all the companions, the one that would understand why she did what she did, why she went to such extent would be Astarion (along with Lae'zel and Minthara).

The rest of the companions would probably look at her in absolute horror, which is also a reason why I think she would not ever reveal this to anyone of them.

But I can still imagine that, among all the good companions, Aranea would still get along super well with Karlach, if anything because they both have lived in one of the layers of Hell (and also because Aranea's own granddaughter, my other tav Lyraleel, is so HOPELESSLY in love with Karlach that Aranea cannot help but have a soft spot for the woman her precious granddaughter loves. So I like to imagine that Aranea is looking out for Karlach and trying her best to help her and keep her safe - even though neither Karlach nor Lyraleel know who Aranea is).

OR. OR.

How the first time Raphael met Aranea and the rest of the companions at the bridge,Raphael would play dumb and pretend not to know his step-mother, and Aranea just getting along because omg if there is someone that knows about his antics, that's her!

And Raphael would be the BIGGEST LITTLE SHIT with her because finally, after 200 years of bantering and being on the receiving end of all her shenanigans, now that she is tadpoled he has a reason to tease her and mock her about all the tentacles she is going to sprout (but Aranea has 0 worries because she knows that Mephisto would let Cania thaw before having her turn into a freaking octopus).

I particularly loved the moment Raphael brought her to the House of Hope and all the dialogue that followed, because omg I got a screenshot (that I slightly modified to make Aranea look more pissed)

And after 200 years, ARANEA IS SO DONE WITH HER STEP-SON'S THEATRICS.

SO DONE.

I can almost hear her saying: "Son, I had a long week: I was abducted by those godsforsaken Illithid; I haven't had a proper bath or meal, have been called names because these peons cannot distinguish a Seldarine from a Kobold; On top of that, I have this thing wringling in my brain, causing me so many headaches, for a moment I thought it was you, finally reborn in a new form. A. WHOLE. WEEK. OF. THIS. CIRCUS. And you show up here, with your grand entrance and speech about those godsforsaken lullabies, and I know FOR A CERTAINTY, that you have practiced this speech in front of the mirror thousands of times before coming here just to mock me. Now, get straight to the point, or I swear, as soon as your father has taken care of this tadpole , I will come back the Hells myself and rip you a new one."

So yeah, needless to say, I am having a HUGE BLAST with this new playthrough!

HUGE FUN. Even more than the first time I played! 😂😂😂

[emodialisse]

The guy from GamingWins really gets me, used a whole video just analyze the stupid little details that I tend to notice too.

Not sure about hater, but yeah, it's a bit sad. But at the "bright side" Doc Ock and Spider-Man's origin stories had a bit of instinct to it since the beginning (get it? Animal analogy, hah), both suffered from a radioactive accident that changed their lives but decided to follow their own path after that. And it's amazing how the game managed to bring this together rather than just implying like the comics did.

The exception is that one Tom DeFalco story where he decided to write Otto as someone who views his and Spider-Man's conflict like a cord primal thread to hold their relationship together, something that gives him purpose, to look forward to the next day.

Like Scott Snyder said in a comic con panel on his story "Death in the Family" that Joker sees Batman and him as "these two halves where he says, you love me the way I love you, and they're essential parts of one conflict and it's the only conflict that matters in Joker's mind".

So the game offers us a chance to connect with their relationship, through their mutual project together. And makes sense that said project will always mean something to them even though the concept is deep covered in many layers of hate and regret.

Yuri Lowenthal is really the perfect Peter Parker voice imo. And yet he's totally humble about it. He said in one episode of the podcast Super Conversations With Hero Mentor that he felt "terrified about playing the part and wake up everyday feeling like he was going to screw up something".

I saw many people compare this scene to Far Cry lol. Anyway, it's one of my favorite sections from the game and I have the dialogue between Otto and Peter memorized because I tried to find this full scene in other gameplays.

It's really on the nose, but I love how the sequence changes when we go further into Peter's self degrading subconscious, Bill Salyers voice acting as Doc Ock and my boy Scorpion being a creep.

I think takeout's on Otto, and Peter brings the coffee. He knows the place well, it's the Coffee Bean after all, they give him a good discount.

He gets my humor too. Call me later?

If I stop to talk about this I will get a little Pepe Silva insane, yeah. Like the first scene with Otto, he gets off the power damperer and Peter scorts him away from it, the camera pans out and instead focus on these two as to say "this is their story, yeah the Octopus arms are a product of it but give your attention to these two first".

Or when Otto first rises with the help of his arms, he prefers to hover over Peter instead of talking to an eye level, because when he does it's to give Peter false reassurance. Otto thinks his place is above everyone else, which is why is cathartic to him "for the first time in my life, I don't feel like a failure, I feel like me".

Or the many moments the camera goes back and forth to Peter and Otto like they have some sort of synergy together. Anyway, you get my point.

"I have a father, his name was Ben Parker" lol, sorry. Look, I'm not gonna call out anyone, this just my opinion, but I don't understand why people would view Otto as a father figure to Peter. It's a bit cheeky coming from the guy who ships them, I know. But it's not because of some personal vendetta I have against the trope or fanon headcanons, I just don't see the appeal. Their relationship is already pretty interesting how it is portrayed in comics and I don't think a father/son connection really brings much to the table except being pretty boring.

What I see in their relationship is something entirely transactional, until they start to see each other beyond employer and emoloyee. Otto is a very lonely guy, companionship is important to us dumb humans, so he would love to have someone like Peter to take care of to some extent, to share his knowledge, etc, someone he can be close to.

I kind of get it how the writers twisted some screws to throw in a father/son dynamic, just like Spider-Man 2 did. Not gonna try to argue against it, it's just my preference to think of them as friends and enemies with some benefits. Not saying I'm not into that father/son shit, but it's in the gross way. Sorry not sorry.

So, on the topic of their friendship imma show you another guy, this time WritingOnGames, who sums everything I said better than I can articulate here.

(Meme not exclusive from the video)

Otto has stated in an audio draft from the game that he doesn't want Peter to think he's his assistant, but his equal partner.

Although, there's still that invisible barrier, right? I don't think they use to hang out, that's for future fics I didn't finish writing, but I'm certain their socializing takes place mostly through phone calls, e-mails and their Brokeback Lab. He's Peter's boss anyway.

But the way they met was very unusual. Otto didn't even have an internship program, he just followed the word of an old friend (May).

He took interest in Peter and so they spent two years together and have shared many personal stories and dreams with each other. Peter is aware of Otto's habits and personality and vice versa:

Couldn't have said it better myself.

It shows their relationship doesn't revolve just around their work.

And once he finds out Peter is Spider-Man, he doesn't anchor himself on Peter's superiority to humankind right away. He did that later to prove his point right, to make Peter stick to his side.

Otto genuinely shows appreciation for Peter's efforts and genius, but he also admires his good will to do the right thing. In return, Peter strives to make Otto proud of him, but also wants to protect Otto from himself. Which is why he walked so many lengths just to try to take back the Otto he once knew, because it's better if he hears Otto says it was just a miscalculation, right?

Peter knows Otto did wrong to him and everyone else in New York, but still wanted to talk some sense to him, even though Otto insisted he was doing it for the greater good. They're weird, complicated and I love them.

[lowkeyclueless5137]

I'm eyes emoji'ing so hard at the Tartarus Buddies au rn. can we learn more

It's a simple au with very fucked up implications. :3

In here, we have the possibility of a kid overbloting. But the thing is that these kids are growing, their growth can be easily influenced by things due to their faster acceptance of it and overBlot was no exception.

As such, when STIX captures them, they realise they are kept alive as long as they have blot around to run on. Putting them in tartarus only makes them to adapt more and simply live. Their Phanthoms were long dead, but our kids remained in there.

The first one here was none other than Malleus, who overBlotted when he found himself alone, in the castle, Lilia leaving without any announcement. He thought Lilia abandoned him and didn't want him just how everyone else left him, so for a 5 year old it was a pretty hard blow. He was quickly contained because he couldn't tell apart the Charons from real people and thought they were here to play with him, to stay with him and not abandon him.

Cue Idia and Ortho. They were absolutely curious of Malleus's presence. Malleus was also curious of them as well and as such, the 3 started a surprisingly sweet friendship through the glass wall.

Because of that, Malleus was supposed to be in a lower tartarus level, but he came up to the top layers, simply so Idia and Ortho could hang around with him. He wasn't any different than a normal kid. He liked a lot the gargoyle pictures in the books and really seemed to enjoy any kind of food you gave him.

Later down the line, we get Azul, who came in due to a very ugly bullying incident. He was a sobbing mess and afraid of everyone. He just wanted to curl up in a ball and be left alone.

In the end, he also warms up to the other 3 and all become friends. They told that Azul was super awesome and that being an octopus mer was insanely epic, which did improve his self esteem since these guys genuinely thought he was cool and wanted to be friends.

Until Idia turns 8 (he was 5 when Malleus came in), We get Jamil, Riddle, Leona, Rook and Sebek. They all took a while to warm up, but for STIX, it was revolutionary that these boys were able to adapt to the blot and live in tartarus. Sometimes they did get out, but since they were so young and now high on blot, sometimes they would get nauseous if they stood for too many hours.

But when Idia's 8, also the incident happened. Ortho was dragged to Tartarus and everyone did a comune effort to save poor boy. It ends up with Malleus absolutely demolishing a titan, but in the end, Ortho was saved.

Except that he was an overBlot and now couldn't leave tartarus at all. Unlike the others, Ortho was completely bound to the underworld. Even staying at the upper levels sometimes had him dizzy, let along get out of the tartarus. It was painful and the body was going through rapid changed and Idia could do nothing but watch and accept the situation. HE was responsible for this and now his little brother was turning gradually into a monster.

The others tried to cheer Idia up, but what else could they say? At least Ortho's not dead? That would literally be the worst reassuring message. :'3

But times still moves on. Idia came to adapt himself more to the tartarus. He wasn't that affected by blot since you had Malleus, Riddle and Azul who were the clingiest mfs known to man. Leona was the oldest and therefore the leader of the group. Jamil is your local 'if it doesn't work, resort to homicide', advisor. Sebek has body goals and usually is Ortho and Riddle's bestie since the 2 are the warmest. (help, sbk_zgvlt has infested me with the Croc headcannons/pos) And Rook was the eyes for all of tartarus. He knew everything and if anyone needed to find smth in there, Rook was your man.

Cue the NRC letter arriving and shaking the whole tartarus since 'Idia will be gone to school?! But he cannot even open a bag of chips?!'. Up until now, the Shroud parents home schooled everyone. Leona was literally 18 now and he didn't get his letter 3 years ago, which means that their existence was erased long ago. He got for his 18th birthday a hand crafted chess set that everyone else worked on. And he really likes to play with it. :3

Cue Idia trying his best to try and leave the tartarus to go and make his luggage, but everyone literally holds onto his feet and beg of him to not go. These bishes really have abandonment issues :'3

But Idia has to go in the end. To ensure that things would go well on his end, the tartarus Bois get a shared phone that they can call Idia on. But Mrs Shroud told them that they can only call when everyone falls on agreement. Leona being additionally informed to be reasonable when calling Idia due to 1: timezones, 2: he's as school and needs to learn, 3: you cannot attempt to make him homesick. Leona was the deemed leader, so his word does hold sum water for the rest after all.

First day in and Idia turned his phone on silent mode for the ceremony. Back in his room he had 30 missed calls and 1463 unread messages.

Gradually, the others do tame down once Idia actually responds back, but for Idia, gradually it goes worse when he realises that some of these people at school used to be aquitances with the tartarus Bois. And to top it off there's this magicless bish and their raccoon who waltzes in and creates trouble. Overblots happen and the victims are back to normal which Idia knows it would be an absolute shitshow if STIX intervents.

[cavalierious-whim]

Gorou whines about his aging appearance and Itto reminds him just how much he loves it. Written for the Oni and The Shiba NSFW zine.

CW: Canon-Compliant, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Body Worship, Praise Kink, Teasing, Begging, Bikcering Bantering, Oral Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Creampie, Snuggling and Cuddling

Read here on AO3 for better quality and full tags.

It is a quiet and lazy morning. 

Gorou blinks awake, the room blurry as he yawns. Warmth surrounds him, his husband hot and heavy against his back. Gorou is a scrappy thing, even in these later years of his, but Itto is too sturdy to push off. Especially when he clings to Gorou like an octopus. 

“Mhm, what time issit?” Itto’s words are muffled by Gorou’s neck. 

“I don’t know. I can’t tell, you big oaf.”

“That’s big oni, to you. Get it right.”

Gorou snorts. Even in his sleep, Itto has so little on his mind. Gorou stretches, his joints creaking loudly in the quiet room. 

Itto nuzzles the back of his neck, pulling him closer. “You thinking of going somewhere?”

“I… have some things to attend to?” Gorou hopes he doesn’t sound as unsure as he feels, but he’s never been good at coming up with things on the fly. “Trip to the barber, then I have to go get a new brush. I’m starting to—” 

Gorou falls quiet, unsure how to express his displeasure with his appearance, as of late. He’s still handsome, but he’s getting older, sporting a few too many wrinkles and silver hairs for his taste. Ever since Guuji Yae cracked a joke about writing a smutty book about an aging Miss Hina, Gorou’s been hyper-aware of his years.

“Starting to what?” Itto sounds so honestly innocent. 

“I’m… Itto, do you ever worry about how you’re aging?”

“Eh?” Itto shuffles about behind him. “I mean, well all do, don’t we?”

“No, I mean—” Gorou sighs, rubbing at the headache that’s already brewing. It’s too early to be concerned about his looks. “I just…lately I’ve felt as though my appeal is waning? My fur is losing its shine. I have wrinkles around my mouth. Soon I’ll be more silver than anything, and—”

“Does that bother you?” Itto sits up and looks at him seriously, none of his usual bravadoes anywhere to be found on his face.

Gorou wants to say no, but he can’t, tongue-tied as he tries to find his words. “I… worry about what you might think. What if I’m not desirable, or—”

Itto laughs, absurdly loud. “Oh, that’s—man, that’s funny. What a great joke, Gorou. You’ve got me cracked wide open like that coconut that Zhongli brought us from his last trip. Maybe a little too early in the morning to be busting a gut but I appreciate the funny all the same.”

Gorou’s face scrunches slightly. “It’s not a joke.”

Itto falters slightly then, his gaze slipping. He’s still a bit of an oafish bull when push comes to shove but he’s grown into himself with age, and he catches on quicker than most seem to assume. He reaches out to poke at Gorou’s nose. “Hey, are you actually being serious? You can’t be.”

“Isn’t it normal to worry about these things?”

“I…guess. But, like, you don’t need to worry about how I feel. And don’t tell me that you don’t know how handsome you are. I know that smug pup can still be found somewhere in there, preening. Remember how you used to wear the Miss Hina outfit?”

“Used to being the keywords there,” murmurs Gorou. “Time flies, things change, and now I’m sagging in places that no one wants to sag in—hey.”

Itto rolls Gorou onto his back with barely a touch. He leans over him, boxing him in, hair askew and wildly tangled. “Have you seen yourself?” asks Gorou, reaching up to brush his bangs back. “An absolute mess.”

“Have you seen yourself?” asks Itto. “Ah, probably not since you’re laying there, trying to convince yourself that you’re past your prime. Which you aren’t. You’re like a prime cut of steak, you only get better as you dry-age, right?”

“Isn’t dry-aged beef covered in a layer of mold?” Because that’s a revolting image that Gorou would rather not be compared to.

“It isn’t about the looks, it’s about the flavor, the taste!” Itto’s gaze turns suggestive then as he waggles his eyebrows. “Should I remind you? Should I take care of you?” Itto slides a hand down Gorou’s front, pulling open the collar of his linen shirt, fingers skittering across the newly revealed skin. 

“I—that’s—” Well, Gorou should’ve expected his dick to take an immediate interest because it does.

“Just lay back, babe. Numero Uno Itto is on the prowl—”

“Please don’t.”

Itto huffs and falls quiet, leaning over to nuzzle at Gorou’s neck. “Alright, the bullshit’s laid at the foot of the bed. It’s only the two of us, now.”

Gorou hums at that. “Better.”

Itto drags a hand across his side, squeezing at his waist. Gorou is about to protest but Itto doesn’t let him. “I like it,” he says, leaning closer, pressing a kiss against his neck. 

“If you say so,” says Gorou with a sigh.

“Hey, just listen to me. Let me do this, let me take care of you. Tell you why I love you so much, yeah?”

That’s all it takes for Gorou to melt, really, stupidly romantic at heart. “Alright, I’ll—oh.”

Itto wraps his fingers around Gorou’s cock, easily accessible since he sleeps pantsless half of the time. Gorou moans softly, his length already filling out with just a few jerks of Itto’s hand. “Eager,” says Itto with a laugh.

“Brute,” says Gorou. “As if you aren’t. You started this.”

“Hm, no, you did.” Itto nips at his neck, teeth digging in and dragging against Gorou’s skin with delicious friction. “That look on your face. I can’t have that. It’s gotta be wiped off with nothing but pure pleasure, babe—”

“Itto, please.” Gorou isn’t sure if he’s begging for him to shut up, or begging for him to get a move on. 

Itto kisses his neck sweetly, nudging the underside of Gorou’s neck gently with his forehead and horns. Soft and subtle affection that makes Gorou’s heart crack in two. This insufferable idiot knows just how to pull him apart and put him back together.

Maybe it was dumb to think that Itto would care about how he looks. 

“Always so responsive,” says Itto, thumbing across the tip of Gorou’s dick, spreading the leaking precome around. 

Gorou is average enough, but Itto’s hand dwarfs his length as he pumps it. “Gods,” he moans, bucking into Itto’s grip, chasing the delicious friction of his palm. This early in the morning, he’s usually an early riser but this time around Gorou already feels the pleasure that pinches his gut tight. 

He doesn’t think he’ll last long.

And Itto must realize it too, letting go of him. Gorou’s cock drops, slapping against his stomach, tacky at the tip. “That’s—” Gorou whines pathetically. 

Itto ignores him, tugging at his shirt to pull it over his head. The moment Gorou’s chest is revealed, Itto presses his nose to his sternum, sighing against the skin there. 

“No doubt you’d prefer breasts,” says Gorou ruefully, thinking of Miss Hina. 

“I’ll always prefer you,” says Itto. “Besides—” He swirls his tongue around Gorou’s nipple, sucking at the bud until it stands stiff in the cool air. “These little guys work perfectly fine. I know that you like this.”

Gorou does, arching against his mouth as Itto laps at his pec, teasing his nipple until it’s cherry red and swollen.

Itto is a man who enjoys using his mouth, kissing his way across the length of Gorou’s body. Licking at his skin, nipping at the corners and creases. “I could eat you up,” he says, nuzzling the softness of Gorou’s waist, sighing softly as he kisses the skin there too.

“Please don’t.” Or do, depending on the type of eating he’s referencing. Gorou can’t help but think of Itto swallowing the entirety of his cock down, mouth wet and hot around him. He’s probably come right then and there, straight down Itto’s throat. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” says Itto, slipping lower to bite at the crease of his groin. 

“You can’t possibly.”

Itto smiles against him and Gorou can feel the curve of his mouth against his skin. He looks up and they lock eyes. “I know I can be dim, but I also know you like the back of my hand.” He smooths his thumb across the curve of Gorou’s hip. “You’re thinking about my mouth on you.”

Gorou huffs, cheeks pink. “Yes, well, how can I not?”

Itto noses at his cock next, his tongue slipping out to drag across the length of it. Gorou moans, reaching down to pull at his hair. Then, Itto pulls back. “Not today,” he says, pressing his hand flat against Gorou’s belly, just above the base of his dick. “I’d rather you come on my cock, I think. Here.” He taps the skin there, no doubt imagining the way that he carves his way into Gorou’s far more petite body.

“Gods, just—” Gorou lets out an annoyed hiss, wiggling his hips to move things along. 

“I said that I wanted to take care of you, right? Lavish you with praise and tell you all the things I love about you?” Itto kisses the tip of his cock. “Obviously this guy.”

Gorou rolls his eyes. But then Itto presses his thighs to his chest, nuzzling at his balls next, licking down the seam of them. “Itto, oh, that’s—”

“These guys too. Soft, fun to play with. You know the drill.”

“I swear to the Shogun, stop calling my body parts guys— sh-shit.” Gorou’s curse comes out wavering as Itto licks across his hole before pulling back, spreading his ass cheeks with his hands. 

He thumbs over his rim, testing the give of the furled muscle. “This guy tho—”

“Itto.”

Itto laughs, pressing a kiss to the back of Gorou’s thigh. “I’m only teasing,” he says. He licks across his hole again, the tip of his tongue probing deeper, slipping in easily. 

Gorou moans, melting into the sheets. A slicked finger presses in alongside, and suddenly Gorou is a whining, keening mess. Just one finger is thick when compared to his slight stature—one and a tongue is enough to leave his toes curled in pleasure. 

“Please,” he cries out, “Gods, just… please.”

Itto laughs against him as he leans back to slip a second finger in. He just watches, then, fucking his fingers in and out of Gorou’s ass. “If you could see what I see,” murmurs Itto. “That way you just swallow me up.”

“I get it,” says Gorou, his impatience winning out. “Fuck me already.”

Itto doesn’t. Instead, he drags his fingers in and out, spreading them to tug at his rim. Then he hooks them, angling a certain way that makes Gorou jerk and fire shoot down his spine. He moans, fucking against Itto’s hand, begging for his fingers to brush that spot again. 

“See?” asks Itto, kissing the crook of Gorou’s knee as he drills his fingers into him. “You’re spending the morning worrying about whether or not I still find you attractive when we could’ve been doing this the entire time. I love this so much, watching how you beg for it.”

“I’m—” Gorou’s voice cracks and he lets out a soft little howl of protest. “I need you. Please, I need you—”

“Alright, calm down,” says Itto, pulling his fingers out and wiping them off. He slides up the length of Gorou, his hands warm against chilled skin. Itto takes a moment to shuffle out of his pants, not even bothering with his shirt because he knows that Gorou will protest the longer he takes. 

The sight is still good; Itto’s shirt is baggy on him, but Gorou can still see the sharp jut of his hipbone and the curve of his behind. He spreads his legs, leaning back, hooking an arm underneath his knee to make his want clear. 

Itto is staring again, his mouth parted slightly. “Fuck, I love you. Like, I know that you’re feeling all sorts of down, but I love you as you are. That’s why I love you.”

Gorou’s chest hitches at that. “I’m… Itto, I know that,” he says softly, reaching up and pulling Itto close. Itto buries his nose in his neck, and Gorou sighs, petting through his thick hair. “It’s just hard, getting old, I think.”

Itto chuckles, kissing the juncture of his neck, dragging those dangerous fangs across his skin. He takes it slow as he presses his cock in. Itto uses way too much oil and is way too gentle. Gorou drags his nails down his back, urging him to move faster, wanting to feel that stinging pressure as he settles deep—but Itto keeps himself steady until he’s fully seated. 

“Gods,” hisses Gorou, his nostrils flaring as he arches against his husband. 

“Damn,” says Itto, moaning against his skin, inhaling deeply. “You always feel so good. So tight for me.”

“That’s—” Oh, that’s embarrassing. Gorou feels the way that his cheeks burn pink, and Itto laughs at him. 

Itto moves then, pulling out until the tip of his cock is left. Gorou whines at the drag, and keens when he presses back in, legs tightening around Itto’s waist. “Finally, fuck—”

It is a delicious sort of drag that pulls at him as Itto fucks into Gorou with a measured and even pace. His thick cock pulls at his rim, and every thrust brushes right against his prostate. “Itto,” he whines, gripping at Itto’s bulging biceps, fingers digging in. “I’m—oh, Archons.”

“And to think you thought I still wouldn’t like this. You worried that I’d lose interest.” Itto leans back, reaching between them, pressing Gorou’s thigh back to watch as he fucks into him. 

The angle changes and Gorou cries out. His fingers curl into the sheets and his toes curl. Itto’s cock feels almost too big, too deep in his guts, almost to the point of feeling it in his throat. Itto thumbs across his hole where it’s stretched to its limits around his dick. 

Gorou clenches, whining as he melts into the sheets. Pleasure churns in his gut, every stroke of Itto’s cock stocking the fire more and more. “So big,” he murmurs, his voice punched, “Gods, you’re so—there, there, don’t stop.”

Itto hikes Gorou’s thighs higher, fucking into him deeper. “I know I say a lot of dumb shit—”

“Itto—”

“But, fuck, marrying you was the best choice. You’re as perfect as they come.”

“Itto.”

He said he’d take care of Gorou, show him just how much he loves him. Itto wraps a hand around Gorou’s cock, stroking it as he thrusts into him languidly. Gorou practically howls, unable to look away from Itto’s debauched, half-lidded gaze. 

“Yeah, you’re—shit. I’m not going to—Looks like Numero Uno Itto is close to—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence and ruin the Celestia-damned mood.” Flimsy words for a man who’s about to come all over Itto’s cock. Gorou’s eyes slipped closed and he bites at his lip, moaning wantonly as Itto’s hips slap against his ass. 

It’s filthy, the way that Itto’s cock bullies its way inside him. The drag of his dick as it pulls against his insides, and the way that Gorou can swear he sees his stomach bulge. As if he reads his mind, Itto presses his hand against the skin there, just underneath Gorou’s belly button, feeling the press of his cock with every slick glide in.

Gorou comes first, tumbling over the edge as that burning coil in his gut goes taut. He cries out Itto’s name, tensing and tightening around him. Itto fucks him through it, knowing that he likes the overstimulation. Tears prick at the corners of Gorou’s eyes. He bites at his lips, fangs nicking the skin there. 

“Look at you,” says Itto. “More handsome than even the best beetle for—”

“Just shut up and don’t stop.”

Itto doesn’t shut up, practically shouting something equally dumb as he presses his cock in as deep as it can go, painting Gorou’s insides white as he comes. Gorou laughs at the absurdity of it, hiding his fond smile in the crook of his elbow. 

The room is heady with the scent of sex. Gorou lays boneless in the bed, sighing in satisfaction. Itto pulls his cock out, staring at his fucked out rim, using his thumb to press his come back in. “Would you say that I’ve primed you for more compliments? That I should baste you with more praise—Ow.”

Gorou manages to find the strength to slap Itto with a pillow. 

Itto flops against the back, cracking his spine. “Really, you should thank me for bending you over like that. You aren’t the only one getting old.”

Gorou props his chin up on a palm. “Whatever happened to just taking care of me? Wasn’t the point to remind me that I’m just as handsome as in our youth?”

Itto reaches out and boops his nose. “And you are. At the same time, I think that I overexerted myself and ye olde muscles are now protesting. My old bones might need a nap.”

“Idiot,” says Gorou affectionately, scooting closer and pressing into Itto’s side. 

“Well, I can’t say no to some cuddling.” Itto presses a gentle kiss to Gorou’s forehead.

“Shut up and take your nap. I want my way with you again later.”

“Oh? Will you take care of me, then? Breathe some life into these dusty old guns?”

Gorou chuckles, nuzzling against Itto’s chest. “If you behave.” 

Itto behaves, falling quiet as he settles into the sheets. It’s easy to drift off, Gorou’s thoughts hazy in the aftermath of their bliss. His husband might be an idiot, but at least it’s only half of the time.

[incarnateirony]

Goddamnit I think my true magical name has evolved to Chief now with everything going on. Thanks, I hate it Shea, but keep clinging to your octopus jibberish while the god of the Chiefs fucking fillets your brain onion.

POKEMON WEILDER MASTER CHIEF CHALLENGES U TO A BATTLE, WHICH GODS DO I SEND OUT TODAY ON THIS SCHIZOPHRENIC STALKER? LOOK AT ALL THE JUNPEIHERMES TARTARUS MPREG BABIES, WE SET UP A DAYCARE FOR OUR TREND CHILDREN ON THE CARNIVAL CRUISE. WOULD U LIKE TO HEAR A LIST OF UPCOMING MOVIES?????????????

Wait until she realizes the bitch jacking Alexa is actually a war based persona. It's a fractal Santhis perception, bb. You wouldn't understand why, but that's ok, he's still rent free in your head anyway and now rent free outside of it thanks to the Black Hole We Went Through Together.

Introducing Pain o/~ Macabre Serenade o/~

Many are his Blades o/~ The Walking Warring Plague o/~

Hatred feeds the Pain o/~ Now Everything is Game o/~

All odds are the same o/~ the bottom of the chain o/~

No one stands a chance o/~ Against the Serpent's Stance o/~

Now EVERYTHING must fall. Mortals, gods and all.

No, no, keep pretending to be unbothered while I project your own art designs through days on end to the point people are literally laughing in the internet backrooms you're accidentally channeling thinking it's divinity. That's cool. You're still dying. Whether your animated vessel drops dead or the few sparks of soul hiding in there you refuse to develop are simply erased and replaced with a better transmogrified form, the reaper is calling, and he's posting signs warning you about matching energies with the larger and more learned soul you bound to, and the millions cumming up your ass. Your answer, natively and naturally to your essence, is to not actually read the sign, and instead attempt to profit from it.

All you're doing is sitting on your blog, on one hand reblogging my own messaging while not actually reading it, and on the other you keep throwing away everything you believe, whether via your non-argumentative reblogs preaching my gospel or pretending basic magical theory from your own universe just suddenly can't apply to you. It is exposing over and over your fraudulence whlie you pretend you can /ignore your way through it, and you keep leaving your controller idle, and we keep jacking you, and you keep refusing to see it.

This is that attention you ordered.

You can't fucking wait this one out Shea, how many times have I told you? I told you when this began you finally set off an avalanche you do not understand that will ride you until you are dead or otherwise nonexistent, or you repent. It's truly that simple. This is all a trap of your own making, layered through the years, both by yourself and myself in preparation, and even him. Because he can see a million lifetimes and you're apparently fucking inconsolable about processing our divorce in every single one, so even he has the right to give up on you when you're being like this. You cannot harass men, man or god, into your life to wash your feet for you when you've been kicking them with it.

[phantasmalnightmare]

A  VALENTINE’S  APPLICATION. 

(For one (1) Gundham Tanaka, while attending Hope's Peak Academy)

your  name: Sonia Nevermind

your age: 17

your perfect date: There are so many options! A twilight picnic might be lovely, perhaps in a cemetery with a walk after eating. Or perhaps a visit to a museum or a zoo, followed by a cafe? Of course, there are plenty of wonderful films to watch: something like Dracula or Crimson Peak might be fitting for the romantic nature of the holiday. Or we could try to summon a demon of lust! (She'd be happy with chocolate and Gundham's company honestly but Sonia got creative)

make out in private or in public?: Private, please. It is unbecoming to indulge in most affection in public: it rather reflects poorly on my family, and I am discouraged from doing so.

do you like to cuddle?: I adore cuddling! (Note: sharing a bed with Sonia means she will wrap all four limbs around you like an octopus and you will only be allowed to go free when she deems it so. Or when she wakes up in embarrassment)

tell me something about you: I recently discovered there are no less than three dozen unsolved murders in Towa City over the past ten years! Is that not fascinating? I did this research in my free time whilst rewatching all of Sun Witch Esper Ito!

why do you want to be my valentine?: I have been in love with you since the day we met and I do not know how to tell you I think we get on very well and on such a special day, I would like to spend it with you, someone I feel wholly at ease to be myself around. I hope you might feel the same. We should not leave out the Devas and the rest of your beasts, too: perhaps we could offer them treats suitable for their culinary palates?

Gundham couldn't help the red hue that took over his features. He was speechless, and yet, he knew he had to respond. He tried to collect himself as best as he could. She'd stated that the reason she'd chosen him was only because she felt comfortable around him after all. Valentines? He never thought that he would ever have someone ask him to be such. And it was her of all people...

He cleared his throat, looking away, before finally responding. "Those ideas sound quite lovely. But of course I will accept your proposal, for you are the Dark Queen, and the only one who can withstand my poisonous touch. N-not that I would touch you in such a manner." Unless she wanted it.

"Even a Dark Lord such as I cannot set foot in the fourth layer of hell known as a zoo, however. To hear their cries as they are enslaved... It is too much to bear." He clenched his fists. "A moonlight cemetery challenge sounds much more entertaining anyway. Kehehehe... Perhaps the spirits will come to greet us." His devas scurried into his cloak at the ominous words. "I thank you for choosing me."

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

How He Sleeps

Batboys headcanons

(A/N: It's been a lot longer than I thought since I've posted, but I have no sense of time and I'm in the middle of finals so I've been distracted recently, so I'm sorry for the delay. Hope you all enjoy!)

~

Dick Grayson:

He sleeps usually in sweatpants, often old and peppered with stains of questionable color and origin, different from the sweatpants he wears out when he doesn’t feel like looking presentable just to go grocery shopping

These are the sweatpants that never see the light of day; between you and Alfred, he’s never allowed to wear them in public

On colder days, he’ll wear a t-shirt or undershirt to bed, but if it’s warm he’ll probably go shirtless

He kinda just keeps his blankets on his bed year round, and kicks them off when he’s too warm then pulls them back when he’s too cold

As far as his bed goes, it’s haphazardly made in the morning and wrecked when he’s sleeping at night; he doesn’t care much for how his bed looks

He’s not so much a blanket hog

Instead, he steals the sheets

He’ll get them tangled around him, and you’ve accidentally ripped one set (they were cheap, okay?) trying to get your half back

As for how he actually sleeps, with you, he likes to cuddle, even when it’s warm

he just likes the feeling of having someone present and with him

Usually, he’ll be the big spoon, but when he’s injured or vulnerable, or just needing comfort, he’ll be the little spoon

Wrapped in your embrace, he gets the best sleep he can

By himself, he spreads out, but not to starfish levelBut if someone else comes into bed with him, once he recognizes them as not a threat, he’ll octopus around them

Jason Todd:

Sleeps usually in just boxers

If it’s cold he’ll throw on some sweats or pj pants, and if it’s freezing, maybe he’ll add a shirt

But he usually runs warm when he sleeps, so it’s not often an issue

Always sleeps with at least a sheet, and keeps his bed made for the most part, though it doesn’t always stay neat by the end of the night

He always sleeps facing the door, and with weapons accessible

He’s protective, even in his sleep, and sleeps best when you’re either lying on him in some way or when he’s wrapped around you

And he’s a pillow hog; he’ll leave the blankets, but you’ll wake up in the morning and find yourself without a pillow

It will either be behind him, by his legs, or in his arms

You think it’s adorable, but you could do without the neck pain from sleeping without pillows

So you’ll use him as a pillow instead

By himself, he sleeps on his side or on his back, pillows both under his head and behind him, and he doesn’t move around too much unless he has a nightmare

Tim Drake:

When he actually gets ready to go to bed, he wears t-shirts and boxers most often

Tim keeps a lot of covers on his bed —he gets cold easily— and he’d rather have the layers than the long pants on

He does, though, have a collection of assorted t-shirts his friends have given him and wears those to bed and around the house; at some point you started counting how often he wears what shirts and it’s become a bit of a running tally you share with his friends. Tim has no idea

When you’re sleeping in the same bed, assuming you convinced him to actually sleep and not just pretend to sleep only to go back to work, the two of you sleep intertwined in some way, whether it be hands, legs, or one of you sleeping on top of the other

When he’s alone, he curls up small and into the fetal position

It scared you once, when you thought he was in bed and didn’t really see him because he was curled up amongst his pillows

He was there, and you accidentally woke him up as you patted down the bed

In general, he takes all the comforters on the bed and bunches them around himself

When you’re with him, you’ll usually be able to keep hold of a little bit, but sometimes it’s too hot out for that many covers, and you have to back away from him and his comfort mound

Damian Wayne:

Sleeps in undershirts and pj pants, usually solid colored dark tees and various dark patterned pants, often striped or plaid

He never wants to be caught off guard and in a position where he’d be indecent

Also he just would rather sleep fully clothed

Sleeps better under the weight of the covers, so the winter months are more enjoyable for his level of comfort

You eventually get him a weighted blanket, and he adores it

When you’re sleeping next to him, he sleeps best, though only he truly understands how much better he feels when you spend the night sleeping beside him

The two of you don’t always touch, especially since you tend to stay in one spot for the most part, but it’s common to fall asleep with your head using his arm or shoulder as a pillow, or with your legs tangled together but heads on separate pillows

With the weighted blanket, sometimes there will be one of you who has more because it’s not very stretchy, but otherwise, there aren’t too many problems

[hanafubukki]

Convert Anon💜 here!!

So i had been playing a twisttune and of course it’s book three twisttunes cause im a simp, and I got the good ending and Azul still wanting to open up a branch location and I-

Me: Azul, you just have to provide me and Grim with a place to stay and able to be semi comfortable, and have some privacy and helo me move in, if you can do that then we can talk about you owning Ramshackle as a branch location

Azul: *quickly calls Jade to clean out an octivinille room and Floyd to help carry things*

Just Azul being the greedy octopus he is and I love him

My squishy who i love and (gently) squish his cheeks

(Also I forgot to add in my last ask but yes, draping myself across Azul in a mafia au is a yes, you have a big brain and I would love to kiss it)

(I would be the spouse who cooks and mainly raises the children(three younger siblings gave me some experience in the raising regard) and of course welcome them home with a smile and kiss them and know not to ask too many questions)

Convert 💜 Anon

I love how these boys learn and yet stay true to themselves 🤣🤣 like that ending with azul opening up a cafe still even avatar everything? And then the looney tunes like ending? That was hilarious and cute 💕

Another thing he will have to deal with is the ghosts

You: also, there’s ghosts and you better listen to what they want. It’s their home and you better not piss them off. Give them money too, they deserve it

Azul: …ghosts?

I wonder how the twins dealt with the ghosts 🤔🤔

Squeeze azul like a stress ball 🙌🙌

(🥹😭💕💜💚 thank yooouu , imagine after business is over you just plop on his lap and kiss him, leaving lipstick marks all over his face, waving the twins off so you can have azul to yourself.)

Lolol not asking question is good convert 💜Anonie, especially once you meet the tweels families. You might need to learn some self defense just in case. I can imagine Floyd or jade teaching you to wield a weapon and azul just layer upon layer of protection.

[starleska]

The sweeter than honey, King Candy for the ask game?

what a wonderful ask to receive, thank you so much anon 🥺💖 he really is sweeter than honey!! answers for this ask game about King Candy are under the cut 🔥

how i feel about this character: all of you who have been around for a while know that i am in love with King Candy 🥺💖 everything about him is so delightful!! his demeanour, his intelligence, and of course that violent sadistic streak that is so masterfully revealed throughout the course of Wreck It Ralph. he's equal parts smug and demented, a real narcissist who will stop at nothing to feed his own ego...it's just fascinating watching a character so absorbed by himself and his own power. no wonder he's Tumblr Sexyman 😳

honestly WiR is a great movie that i feel is made excellent by the layers which went into making King Candy such a badass villain. his goofiness underpinned by this latent sinister attitude becomes scarier the longer you watch, and it makes the payoff for his big reveal just perfect. let alone the fact that all three of his designs slap!!! those who worked on the movie mentioned that they designed King Candy to be kind of like a mob boss, and Alan Tudyk captured that perfectly in his Mad Hatter/Sopranos-esque voice take. i love his lisp, his manic giggles, his bouncy way of moving and especially his smile...aaaah i'm getting flustered just thinking about him 🥰🥰🥰

all the people i ship romantically with this character: this is a situation where i am a hardcore selfshipper, much like many King Candy fans 😉 power to those of you who do have canon ships with him, i think that's fabulous!! i'm just a little too invested in being romanced (or negged) by King Candy myself to give him up 😉

being a huge dork, a little while ago i developed a Sugar Rush OC for this very silly selfship concept...i've always loved the idea of a character who is a video game modder, someone who is deeply invested in old gaming lore and spends a lot of time hunting cartridges and arcade cabinets. my idea was to have a character in the human world who played on the Sugar Rush game with King Candy in it regularly, only to notice after he gets deleted. they post about King Candy online and are met only with bafflement and people who think they're lying about their experience.

eventually, they end up building their own emulator arcade cabinet, duplicating the data from the original Sugar Rush game and modding themselves into the game as a Sugar Rush Racer: this OC here, Strawberta Fizzbomb. there, they end up fixing the remnants of King Candy's data and speaking to him for the first time...you can imagine how delighted King Candy would be at the prospect of sharing himself through the Internet. even better, having a human from the real world who is at his beck and call, clearly infatuated with him and willing to do whatever he wants with the hacking talents to match? well, it would be a very beneficial situation for him 🥰 i know it's very silly but i'd love to write this out properly...i have some sketches of her and King Candy that i really need to ink;;;

my non-romantic OTP for this character: you know, the villainous characters i love often come with some kind of tragic backstory, some background trauma that led them to become the way they are...Dave the Octopus and Balthazar Bratt come to mind. with that sort of backstory, it makes it a lot easier to think of possible rehabilitation and friendships building even with those they hurt, as they seem to desperately need the affection. but this isn't the case with King Candy!! i personally don't want to see him becoming buddy-buddy with Ralph, Vanellope, the Sugar Rush Racers or any of the other video game characters that aren't villainous, as i love him as a dreadful person. it would certainly be interesting to see some kind of redemption arc for him, but when i'm looking at fan content, the stuff i like the most is when he's being his usual terrible self :3c

my unpopular opinion about this character: my definitive unpopular opinion about King Candy is that i find him far more attractive in his King Candy form than his Turbo form!! absolutely no shade to those who love Turbo and his design, i think you're all very powerful and valid 🥰💖 i'm just a big fan of fruity, queercoded, brightly-dressed characters...a kind of flamboyance is always an eye-catcher. maybe it's because Turbo's design reminds me a bit too much of the Crazy Frog 🤣

one thing i wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon: oh goodness, so so much!!! i think that the first Wreck It Ralph is perfect as it is, and wouldn't change a thing. however, my real gripes come with Wreck It Ralph 2, which i've talked about before. although most of my issues came from Knowsmore's potential as a villain and the gap that was left without attempting to fill King Candy's shoes, i would've killed for King Candy to have come back in another form. i think the worldbuilding of Wreck It Ralph is so fun that we fans can have a great time playing in its sandbox, whether that's wanting King Candy to have a total redemption arc and end up best pals with all the original WiR characters...or seeing him come back in a different, much-harder-to-kill form. i'm still holding out my hopes for King Candy to return in the third Wreck It Ralph, but if not...i'm very happy with what we have and how wonderful the fandom is ☺

this was really fun!! thanks so much for suggesting him anon - i am literally always down to gush about King Candy, he is such a delight 🥺💖 everyone, feel free to send in asks about him (or other characters for the ask game)!

[undertale-writing-times]

Can I ask how the skeletons react to a s/o’s tattoos? Not like really small ones, but big ones, like covering their elbows and covering their thighs!

Dealer’s choice :)

Oh I like this one! I love tattoos, they're so fun.

Hope you enjoy this ^^

Nightmare: When Nightmare first saw your tattoos, he was a tad confused. What was that? Why did you have markings covering your body? When you explained what they were, and how you got them, he would be honestly quite impressed with you. That sounds like it could be a very painful thing to have to do, and yet you didn't even have to do it. You wanted to! He would trace his fingers over the lines of your tattoo, asking if they have any stories or reasons behind them, and if not, then he wouldn't quite care but if so, he wishes to hear all of them. If you ever got a tattoo of him? Or something like him or hinted at him? He's going to get a strange feeling in his chest.

Dream: Dream's going to see the markings that cover your body, and he's going to be so enthusiastic! They're so colorful! When are they going to fade away? Wait what? What do you mean that they aren't going to be fading away? How do you do it? When you explain to him that they use needles and such to push the ink into the skin layer he... honestly might just pass out. He's feeling dizzy. How can you do that?! That sounds so painful! He understands small things but yours are huge! He has so much more respect for you after all that.

Dusty: The tattoos are, honestly, one of the first things that he notices about you. They're bright, and they're so big. He won't ask about them, of course, despite that will stare and study them whenever he gets a chance to. It isn't until they get together, does he feel safe and brave enough to ask to see them! He does know what tattoos are, they've been to a few AU's that had those, and he thinks that it's pretty damn cool that his datemate has them. He does wonder about the stories and stuff that goes along with the tattoos, and if you have any, he would love to hear them... he kind of wishes that he could get a tattoo to give hints to his brother, Pappy, though also knows that that might not... be the best idea. At least he can see yours. You'll often catch him tracing his finger along them while making sure not to accidentally cut you while you two are laying together.

Drain: When he first sees your tattoos, they do catch his eye. It's pretty cool you have markings all over your body, he had some of those too, they're normally black but change color depending on whichever emotion that he's feeling. He thinks that it's pretty interesting! He wants to, honestly, know what kind of stories those tattoos have, what are they? They'll keep his attention for a little while, then he'll forget about them and honestly not really care much afterwards. It isn't that he's a dick or anything, just things need to be different for him to pay attention to them and he's already seen them.

Glitch: They think that your tattoos are the coolest thing in the world! The only thing that would make it cooler, is if they were able to design one or two for you! Maybe? Please? They have so many ideas that would most likely look amazing on you, and you would like it! They promise. When they first saw all of your tattoos, they got so excited and started to ask too many questions and it makes them start to glitch out, so it's honestly a bit hard to understand what they're trying to say. It's just because they're so excited, and if you tell them that you can't understand them, they'll get so embarrassed. Just answer anything they ask, and they'll calm down after a while, but you've got them into designing things.

Scales: Scales found it funny that that's what people call him, even though he's an octopus but eh, whatever. When he first sees your tattoos, they catch his attention and he swims over, reaching up to touch the colorful picture on your skin asking a few questions. How did these appear on your skin? Do humans get them when they do something special? You tell him no, that you just got that because you thought it was nice, and you wanted it. He thinks that it makes a weird amount of sense... how do you get it? When you tell him exactly how, he's a little shocked and squints, scooting a tad away since that's a pretty weird thing to do Y/n.

Shark: Shark saw your tattoos and he thinks that they're very pretty! He loves the fact that you have those weird markings all over you. He brings up often how much he likes them, saying that they look cool! Amazing! Until one day, he asks "Hey, what are those?" because... he has no idea. When you explain to him how you got all those 'markings' on your body, he's a little shocked that you would do something like that! Is... that dangerous at all? Would it kill you if you kept doing it? You have to explain that it isn't dangerous at all for you, then he'll think that it's cool! He likes the fact that you have those markings, and wants to hear everything about them.