#he'd start to dive more into the sea | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arminsumi · 9 months

Text

I want to kiss you / キスしたい

G. Satoru

NOTE: i recently started learning to write in japanese for not much reason other than to occupy my mind with something new. this little daydream came to me and i can't stop thinking about it, i think falling in love despite a language barrier is one of the purest and sweetest ways to fall in love.

WARNINGS — it might be fem reader idk, kissing 👍, ur married w him at the end, not proofread lol i'm snuggled up in bed ok

Satoru cant speak english and you cant speak japanese; Suguru is the translator friend. You met him online years ago, who knows how. But you hit it off, and four years of friendship rolled by.

Satoru heard all about Y/n and saw you many times when Suguru facetimed or called you. You and him had many cute, playful interactions, ranging from making hearthands at each other to flipping each other off and laughing about it. Sometimes Satoru would be sat off-camera, overloading Suguru with things to translate, because he had a lot to say to you. One time, Suguru left for a few minutes to get a pizza delivery, and then Satoru got very quiet and the two of you blinked at your screens.

"Hi."

And then you two for some reason started laughing with your whole chests, Suguru walked in with a confused smirk. He joked, "Sooo... what did you and Satoru talk about while I was gone?" He asked, gentle accent coming through in soft waves. "The mysteries of the universe." You replied. Satoru was already diving into the pizza box, but he still listened to you speak; he wondered what you had said, maybe you used some fancy words to say that you liked him? He'd be lying if he said he didn't memorize variations of "i like you" after that. He was paranoid that he could miss you saying that you liked him.

You managed a slow, meticulously-pronounced nice to meet you in Japanese when you finally visited Tokyo. It was at the airport. You and Suguru had shared many hugs — good grief, you'd seen height comparisons many times but none painted a real idea of just how big these boys were. But Satoru? He was loudmouthed on a screen and surprisingly shy in person. Eventually he hugged you and didn't let go. He even got so comfy as to hang and cling to your body like you saw him doing with Suguru in countless photos and videos.

Though you could barely pronounce the little Japanese that you picked up, Satoru felt giddy to hear your pretty voice in his language. He listened to you like you were reciting love poetry to him, fists under his chin and eyes starry. But you were just saying basic phrases, boring things — nothing that articulated your thoughts properly.

He was far too embarrassed to try and speak any English when he first met you, even though after developing a crush on you he did start learning some English on the side. He knew quite a bit, but listening was so impossibly difficult it frustrated him like nothing else. He was also self-conscious of his English accent, though Suguru tried to assure him that he sounded very cute and almost oddly British.

So often instead of attempting to speak tiny phrases to you, Satoru threw a lot of hand motions and signals your way which got the two of you and Suguru laughing — poor Sugie, he was always translating even the smallest things you said even if you muttered them under your breath, because Satoru was eager to know every little thought and expression you had, even if you were simply commenting on the weather.

Once you commented that it was so hot, you were visiting during a heatwave-filled summer. Satoru raised his brows at Suguru expectantly, and you heard a familiar translation;

暑い。

It's hot.

There was such a frustrating language barrier between the two of you, it became more evident when you had finally flown over the sea to meet them.

Yet you and satoru fell in love silently and beautifully, your love flowing like a river in the most unexpected directions. You felt his affection emanating from his irises. You and him joked around, and talked — though you had no idea what the other meant most of the time. Sometimes the two of you gave up and you talked in English, he responded with Japanese, and it went on like that very comedically until Suguru came back to bridge the gap.

Lots of time was spent putting your heads together over your phone, reading translations of what you wanted to say to each other.

One day, when Suguru left the two of you alone in his apartment kitchen so that he could hop to the convenience store, Satoru typed something into the translator and let you read it. Your face warmed up.

キスしたい。

I want to kiss you.

He looks at you expectantly.

You type back to him.

Then kiss me.

それからキスして。

He blushed and hesistated, the two of you making electric eye contact for a while before he boyishly pecked your lips to test if you liked his kiss, but oh that's all the two of you needed to realize just how much you liked each other. You melted into each other like your bodies were made for nothing else but to embrace and be one. He shook a little, tentatively gliding his lips over yours. His hands nervously cupped your cheeks. With the way he handled you so carefully, you'd think you were made of porcelain.

Your reciprocation meant everything to him. His confidence flourished. The soft smacking, wet sounds got louder when he kissed you more passionately. Those gentle hands found their way to the back of your neck, and he softly pressed you closer to him as if he was scared you would pull away. What if you changed your mind mid-kiss? He was overthinking and you wouldn't have even guessed it, because you thought he was in the same blissed out dream state as you were. So high on kissing that the world fell away.

The two of you started smiling embarrassedly, grinning so hard that you couldn't continue kissing. Then the two of you just giggled against each other's faces — a subconscious realization swept him; laughter and kissing are their own languages.

Yes as years passed and you visited time and time again, your Japanese improved and his English improved. When you moved to Japan, eventually you adopted a messy mix of Japanese and English with Satoru. He liked showing off how perfectly he could pronounce things, and you liked showing off that you could write very neat kana.

Years and years and years passed and when you and him were married in your own little apartment, starting a life together, a very fluent Satoru reminisced about how the two of you fell in love despite barely speaking to each other.

"It was your eyes for me." You said.

"Oh really? It was your voice for me. I didn't know what you were saying, but it sounded nice." He said.

"Mmm I liked your voice, too." You said, snuggling your head on his shoulder. He basked in the attention, though it was common, it always felt special for him. The smallest hand touches and wrist kisses made his heart lurch.

"Remember when I always nagged Suguru to translate every little thing you said?"

"Yeah, you worked him to the bone." You chuckled.

"I just wanted to know what you were saying. I had such a crush on you, looking back now it was even ridiculous how much I liked you considering the barrier and all."

"Ooh, did you?"

"How is this surprising? We're married??"

"Oh yeah."

#🗑️ — trash #♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 #gojo #gojo satoru #fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x fem reader #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo

3K notes · View notes

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 27 days

Text

I'm thinking of Merman!Gaz smut tonight, so... have a little drabble:

Breeding? || Merman!Gaz (for Mermay 2024)

cw: smut (cunnilingus), dubcon elements (reader is willing).

Merman!Gaz who's actually part sea horse so he has a dorsal fin, ears that are fin-shaped, and no caudal fin, but a straight, thin and curled tail instead.

Merman!Gaz who loves people watching and has learned plenty about humans... and even does it enough to have picked up on some Englsh.

Merman!Gaz who sees you at the beach, not one of those fine sand and great for sunbathing ones, but one that's mostly rocky gravel and a jagged coastal line.

Merman!Gaz who approaches the rocks you're sitting on and peaks his head over them to catch your eye, happy that the beach is mostly devoid of people due to how gloomy and cloudy the sky is.

Merman!Gaz who startles you and smiles when he notices you jumping, but then your eyes shine like the stars and you look at him with such curiosity as you carefully approach with a "Hi...?".

Merman!Gaz who's, unfortunately, more curious about the parts of your body hidden under your shorts than you as a human, and whose human-like hands start pawing at your thighs, webbed fingers massaging your exposed skin.

Merman!Gaz who wraps his muscular arms around your hip and drags you as close as he can get you to the edge of the rocks, your toes dangling over the water, and legs being sprinkled by the crashing waves.

Merman!Gaz who presses his face against your clothed cunt, burying his nose against the gusset of your denim shorts, taking a deep sniff of you thanks to his powerful nose, that sends excitement coursing through his body, and heat rising up to his face.

Merman!Gaz who realizes how beautiful you look with your eyes wide and your whole body stiffened in surprise... but notes how your hands don't push to fight him off.

Merman!Gaz who tries to rip your clothes off you, not knowing what "Careful!" means when you say it, which makes him look at you with knitted brows and the biggest, softest brown eyes, only for you to relent and help him.

Merman!Gaz who, as soon as he sets eyes on your exposed cunt, feels his heart racing in his chest and immediately buries his face back where it belongs.

Merman!Gaz who licks stripes up your cunt, savouring the taste and the warmth of your core, the wetness so different to the salty ocean, and revels on how your moans sound even more lovely than some of the mating songs he hears from whales and other mammals.

Merman!Gaz whose fins start brightening in color, turning bright orange rather than its muted shade of terracotta, and whose tail wraps around one of your feet, as he sucks on your clit and hears you mewl and moan.

Merman!Gaz who smiles when he feels a rush of liquid rush against his plump lips and down his chin, watching how you go limp and sigh fondly, having peaked against his mouth... and clicks his tongue and smacks his lips, pleased with himself.

Merman!Gaz who continues at it over and over, his tongue diving into your winking hole, and feels your heels dig into the expanse of his back as his arms keep holding his torso above the water so he can remain buried in your cunt.

Merman!Gaz who after you're overstimulated, uses his strong arms to pull himself up onto the rocks atop you and whose lips crash onto yours in a deep, languid kiss, like he's seen so many humans share, noticing your eyes rolling and the fucked out look on your face.

Merman!Gaz who vanishes under the water while you're struggling to catch your breath, catching the way as you jump up, startled, when you noticed he's gone, seemingly distraught that he'd just leave like that.

Merman!Gaz who, weeks later, is lowkey confused as to why his brood pouch didn't swell and he's not releasing any babies, he's pretty sure you two mated?

Part 2:

804 notes · View notes

icaberries · 6 months

Text

Something something 124ji regain their emotions and realize what fucked up lives they've lived. And if they want to honor their mother's sacrifice, they have to learn what it is to be human again, and that means leaving Germa.

They try to escape with Reiju only to get captured by Judge.

They're stood on an execution platform with weighs on their ankles and an endless sea beneath them. Judge fakes a story of them trying to mutiny and how he needs to make an example despite them being his children. Ichiji and Reiju both taunt him, a final act of defiance filled with overflowing emotions, and Judge lifts his spear to cut the ropes that will toss them to sea.

Only to get thrown off balance as The Thousand Sunny rams into the castle, steered by a furious Sanji. Before Judge can regain his balance, Sanji turns the wheel and pivots the helm to knock Judge down. Reiju almost sobs in relief, glad she'd remembered Sanji's den den number before they separated on Whole Cake Island.

In the ensuing chaos, Judge manages to cut the ropes for Ichiji, who plunges into the water as the rest of his siblings watch in horror as their brother sinks and doesn't resurface.

Sanji dives after his brother while the rest of the Strawhats jump Judge.

(Because while Sanji swore he won't let him die, his crew did not make the same promise.)

(Because Sanji cares more about saving his brother than fighting his father.)

Ichiji panics at seeing Sanji rescue him because with the weighs dragging him down, it will kill them both. Sanji already saved him once and he'll be damned if he lets his little brother die saving him.

But he doesn't know that Sanji once ignited his leg on fire underwater, and it takes very little effort for him to cut the ropes and swim them to the surface.

The two of them gasp as they break the surface, with Sanji holding onto Ichiji firmly. The sky is lit up with smoke and fire from the ongoing fight between Germa and the Strawhats. Somewhere in the distance, Judge screams before he falls silent. The fight was quick and with their King dead, Germa surrenders.

Sanji swims them to the Sunny, and the rest of the Strawhats help to pull them aboard. Ichiji barely regains his breath before Niji, Yonji, and Reiju swarm the two of them, crying tears of relief.

And the thing is, Sanji didn't know that they regained their emotions. He just received a call from Reiju asking for help, and he booked it. It's the sight of the tears and the forming blond hairs that help Sanji make the connection. Before he can say anything, Reiju is grabbing him and pulling him towards the crying pile. It takes very little for Sanji to start crying as well. He'd already resigned himself to losing and letting go of all of them, but to have them within reach and finally rekindling the humanity their mother sacrificed to save? Well, let's just say Sanji is very grateful to have accepted Reiju’s call.

#vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #one piece #vinsmoke brothers #vinsmoke siblings #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke yonji #vinsmoke reiju #my posts

194 notes · View notes

4sturns · 6 months

Note

I 100% think Chris a boob guy

hmm .. a boob guy chris enthusiast amongst the sea of ass guy chris enthusiasts.

NSFW CONTENT BELOW

i've been a firm believer of ass guy chris but honestly, after sitting down and really thinking about it i can get behind chris being a boob guy.

he'd try his absolute best to keep his eyes up, but when your cleavage is so visible and your boobs are being hugged so nicely by that shirt you're wearing he completely forgets what his original plan was.

he'd start stuttering while his gaze flickers between your eyes and your boobs. he's so obviously distracted that you cross your arms over your chest with an amused smirk on your face. clearly this makes it worse for chris as your boobs are propped higher on your chest, more skin spilling out the top of your shirt as his face reddens and he lets out an embarrassingly loud gulp.

but it's also not entirely a sexual thing for him either. sometimes it's just a comfort thing, similar to the way some of us rest a hand on a boob for the hell of it.

he'd definitely be the type to dive headfirst into your chest if you let him. uses your chest as his personal pillows, sometimes switching things up and resting a hand on one boob, squeezing occasionally as if it were a stress ball.

the amount of times he'd fall asleep with his head on your chest is almost laughable, although you find the warmth and comfort just as much as he does.

at the end of the day, he doesn't care how small or big your boobs are, boobs are boobs to him! same goes to your ass, even if he does prefer your boobs more, he'd never neglect showing your butt some well deserved attention regardless of shape and/or size.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #4sturns anons

242 notes · View notes

hmshermitcraft · 21 days

Note

Some academic tomfoolery: newbie marine biologist Grian is trying to study some FASCINATING odd seal behaviour. this species of seals are using and making tools and doing more obvious vocal mimicry than usual along with lots of complex seal noises! incredible! Seal stone age and plausibly language! Though it's mostly more...bone age...lots of chewed-into-shape bones. He should probably get an anthropologist in on this but this is like, one of his first projects, he'd have to actually publish this first.

There's even a particularly tool-smart one who seems to be poking around at a fresh shipwreck and keeps coming up on Grian's boat? Grian's wished them luck with whatever they're trying to do with the destroyed boat (it had belonged to some rich guy and experienced bizarre problems at sea one day and wrecked some rocks where it absolutely shouldn't have been) but he's not risking going there That Boat. Sometimes bits of it moves. He thinks the seal is discovering redstone. They've definitely discovered fire and cooking, there's a deliberate campfire there some days and he's seen them with cooked seagull and fish.

also there is a Very Attractive Mechanic-In-Training, Mumbo, who's been working on his boat and seems to think Grian's research is funny without ever actually doubting any of it and has a very fancy and clearly custom-made dappled black and grey jacket that might actually be real pelt. He's going to the same university Grian's doing research with, finishing his degree in nautical engineering; he's getting so much extra credit fixing all the bizarre problems Grian's boat keeps getting. Some of them are Grian's fault, some of them are just things breaking because they're on a boat, and some of them are very smart seals investigating the boat and breaking it in new and bizarre ways.

Who even tries to shuck a boat? Idiot seal juveniles with bone-and-wood shellfish harvesting tools, apparently. At least, Mumbo is convinced it's an attempted boat-shucking, and not just stabbing the boat to see what'd happen or because they don't like it.

Mumbo and Grian hit it off, Mumbo seeming to have a crush at first sight - he's so flustered when Grian talks to him the first time!

Grian's been telling Mumbo all about his research, and Mumbo's been telling Grian all about his studies, and they've been getting along really well and even starting to cautiously flirt and go out to places together. Mumbo has tales about the mess half the fishing boats in the area are in, some people just don't maintain their boats right.

And then one day Grian spots the genius seal caught in a fishing net and, well, he dives down to save them. Just in time to see them try to save themself by turning into Mumbo the boat mechanic. Turns out selkies are real. At least the different shape means he's less stuck so they can free him easier.

And just to make it worse: Mumbo's the genius seal who's been on his boat in seal form before, multiple times, starting when Grian was just starting out his research and had no idea how smart these seals were. And messed with Grian's stuff. Grian had called him a "glorious chonker" and "beauty" and "smarter than a Grian" to his face. Which was his first meeting with Mumbo apparently. No wonder he'd been so flustered the first time he worked on Grian's boat! And several other times after!

(Though now he has a new research avenue: what's with the majority of selkies being unable to take human form? Sure, joining human society enough to study boats was apparently very difficult for Mumbo, but - it'd be a lot easier to make those tools if more than a few of them could have thumbs.)

longpost anon. have some selkie mumbo.

What's even worse - the worst thing ever, actually - is that Mumbo had to rescue Grian. From attempting to rescue Mumbo. Because Grian got caught in the net afterwards.

And now he never lets Grian live it down. He's even started his own "research" paper! On the Study of a Grian. Not only has Grian discovered selkies exist, but apparently they're able to bully him!

Jeez. And Mumbo has to be hot too. Selkies just get it all, huh?

#hermitshipping #ask #grian tag #mumbo tag #grumbo #longpost anon #mod 🎀#weekly theme: academic tomfoolery

84 notes · View notes

spacexseven · 1 year

Note

Wait wait wait wait in mer au I have never seen you talk about mermaid darling

What if darling is the mermaid and idk dazai or chuuya or both maybe are the humans and discover darling

Or them still being well whatever they are in mer au (siren and sea monster from what I remember) and darling also a mermaid:D

CW: yandere characters, toxic relationships, unhealthy idolization, implied murder/violence, invasion of privacy, reader is referred to as 'pet' in siren chuuya's part. unedited

human dazai is thrilled. he can hardly believe it! expect to be met with a barrage of questions from him, some from innocent curiosity, but mostly him wanting to know uncomfortably personal information. he begs and begs for you to let him stroke your tail, just once? it’s so shiny, you can’t really expect him to not be mesmerized by it! he’s impossible to escape, as he makes a habit of coming to your usual spot every waking moment, preferring to creep up on you and watch you go about your day before making his presence known. even if you switch to another spot—still close enough to watch the people walk by—he’ll scour the waters for you. soon enough, he even starts taking out a little boat to see you farther away from prying eyes. dazai brings you trinkets, despite you being the one with access to more valuable and rare items, and he knows that even though you act all huffy, you’re entranced by the newest gadgets he proudly waves at you. ah, but don't worry! he knows how to keep a secret. after all, he can't have anyone else coming after you, can he?

eelzai (eel dazai) isn't exactly used to cute little things like you coming by these parts of the waters. most other mer creatures are far more sociable than him and tend to live in more populated areas, never wandering near his cave unless it's out of curiosity about the rumored sea monster that lived there. it didn't particularly bother him to know that he was more feared than liked, and honestly, your shocked expression was awfully cute. what was surprising was how you kept coming back. maybe you were curious about him, too, peering shyly into his cave and quickly jolting back when you heard the slow swishing of his tail in the water. he didn't mind the company, though you probably thought he had no idea that you came around. sometimes, he'd lay as still as possible, waiting for you to come a little closer. closer, until your face was right next to his as you studied him carefully. he hoped you would stay longer, trace a finger, but within a few minutes, you were gone.

so he planned accordingly for the next time, hiding in a dark corner of the cave, lying in wait for you to believe it was empty, and come wandering in. and right as you came near the center, far enough from the opening so nobody would hear the yelp as you got dragged away, he would finally be able to have a nice conversation with you.

it shocks human chuuya the first time he sees you peering at him from the water, so much so that he jumps back and maybe cries out a little. despite his initial reaction, you were more than happy to educate him about your species, and you eagerly entertain all his questions and requests. maybe you were just lonely. not that he minded your attention. chuuya answers all of your questions and carefully remembers all the details you tell him about your life and home just in case. sometimes, startled by the sudden sounds of footsteps, you rush back into the water, and something you brought to show chuuya falls out beside his feet, which he silently pockets and pretends not to have seen when you ask about it. but no matter how much you plead with him to let you meet more humans, his friends, he refuses. there was no way he was going to let anyone come near you. chuuya even decides to learn diving, just to surprise you with a visit one of these days, now that he knows your favorite spots nearby.

siren chuuya is used to the envious stares of other mers, wishing they were as refined as him in any way. he's not as used to admiration, but it wasn't that uncommon. the degree of your admiration, however, was far from normal. he didn't know how you came to meet him, but the day you saw him you had fallen into a trance (as you liked to say) and since then, were rarely seen apart from him. you adored chuuya, constantly complimenting him and praising him, openly admitting you wished you were as alluring or as pretty as him because no human ever looked twice at you, especially not when all they wanted to see were sirens and other mystical creatures. chuuya never tells you that he's glad you're not as popular as him, he never tells you that he hates the idea of any foolish human fawning after you, nor does he tell you that he's already had to take care of a few suitors who were after your affection, those stupid enough to come and ask him for help in wooing you. no, he lets you believe that you should be happy in your current position, and lets you gush over him more and more, over the moon at any semblance of affection or praise from him. he liked you trailing behind him with starry eyes, his little pet.

675 notes · View notes

rhysdarbinizedarby · 8 months

Text

How Our Flag Means Death transformed Rhys Darby into a merman

Take a deep dive into Stede and Blackbeard’s big underwater reunion, featuring Kate Bush and buckets of glitter.

Warning: This story contains spoilers for Our Flag Means Death season 2, episode 3, "The Innkeeper."

How do you turn a pirate into a mermaid? All you need is a loyal crew, a killer soundtrack, and lots and lots of glitter.

Our Flag Means Death season 2 reunites swashbuckling lovers Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) and Blackbeard (Taika Waititi) after their tragic parting in season 1. An injured Blackbeard is hovering near death, stranded in a purgatory-like dream world after his crew attempted mutiny. He plunges off a cliff, sinking deep into the sea, and it seems as if his past regrets will drag him into the darkness. Then, a light appears, and Kate Bush starts to play: It's Stede, carrying a trident and sporting a golden fish tail. Merman Stede coaxes Blackbeard back to life, and together, they swim upwards into the light.

It's a moment that's simultaneously silly and heartfelt, a perfect encapsulation of the show's signature tone. Series creator David Jenkins says he and the writers have wanted a merman Stede scene for years, and it comes at the, ahem, tail end of episode 3, written by Alyssa Lane and Alex Sherman and directed by Andrew DeYoung. The sequence itself isn't long, but it proved to be a monumental undertaking, requiring careful collaboration from the visual effects team, stunts, hair, makeup, costumes, music, and more.

"When you're working on smaller shows like this that need big visual effects, you have to be very resourceful about how you do things," visual effects supervisor David Van Dyke tells EW. "I feel like the underwater sequence was a really great culmination of all the departments really working together and maximizing our resources."

With the episode streaming now on Max, EW caught up with a few key members of the OFMD crew, who break down exactly how they transformed Darby into a merman — fish tail and all.

Gypsy Taylor's sketch of merman Stede for 'Our Flag Means Death' | CREDIT: GYPSY TAYLOR

A sailor's tail

Originally, the plan was to use a green screen to give Darby a CGI tail. But it was costume designer Gypsy Taylor who pushed back, arguing that she and her team could build a practical tail that looked gorgeous and functioned underwater.

"I was like, 'Please make my dreams come true!'" she tells EW with a laugh. "'I want to make Rhys Darby a mermaid!'" It helped that Darby himself was game: The actor served in the New Zealand army, so he's a more than capable swimmer. He volunteered to film as much of the scene as he could, even if that meant learning to swim with a monofin.

As she started to sketch, Taylor immersed herself in mermaid imagery, finding inspiration in all sorts of aquatic creatures. Ultimately, she decided on a subtle golden look, one that fit Stede's personality but still brought plenty of drama.

"I delved deep into the mermaid world, and I could have gone all rainbow and big and luscious," she explains.

"But instead I thought, look, if Stede turns into a fish, and it's Blackbeard's dream sequence of what he knows of Stede, then he'd probably just turn into a really sweet goldfish. So, that's where I started. He's just this sweet, loving little goldfish."

Merman tail construction for 'Our Flag Means Death' | CREDIT: GYPSY TAYLOR

For the actual construction, Taylor recruited her longtime collaborator and props maker Hayley Egan. Many fake mermaid tails are sculpted out of a single piece of rubbery silicone, but Taylor wanted to keep Stede's tail as lightweight as possible, so Darby could actually move through the water.

So, she fitted the actor with a stretchy Lycra base, and Egan hand-sculpted and attached about 3,000 individual silicone scales. The final steps were to add the enormous, flipper-like monofin at the bottom, before sewing on thin, gauzy strips of chiffon to give the tail more movement in the water.

A close-up of Rhys Darby's tail in 'Our Flag Means Death' | CREDIT: GYPSY TAYLOR

Taylor worked closely with stunt coordinator Jacob Tomuri to make sure the tail not only looked beautiful but functioned underwater, too. (She also knew that they'd have to film quickly, since the chlorine in the tank could corrode the tail over time.) She carefully monitored the tail's weight — but it still wound up heavier than she anticipated.

"We added a whole lot of weight accidentally by putting five kilograms of glitter in," Taylor admits. "I had to warn the stunt team. I was like, 'I didn't think glitter would be that heavy! But we needed a lot of it. And it's so pretty!'"

The tail required 5 kilograms of glitter | CREDIT: GYPSY TAYLOR

Egan constructed four tails in all: a stunt tail, a tail for Rhys to practice with, and two hero tails for use on camera. Egan assembled them at her workshop in Australia, but she had to stuff them into a suitcase to bring them to the OFMD set in New Zealand. All was well, until she got to New Zealand customs, and the agent asked her: "Are you bringing fish into the country?"

"She was in fits," Taylor recalls, laughing. "She was like, 'Well, actually… I'm bringing four fish into the country.'"

Once the tail was fitted to Darby's body, the makeup and prosthetics team came in to seamlessly blend it to his bare skin, adding even more scales and glitter. But although Darby moved gracefully underwater, navigating dry land proved to be a bigger challenge. Once the actor was encased in his tail, he couldn't move around set, so the crew borrowed a wheelchair from a local New Zealand hospital to transport him to the tank. (See the video below.)

"We'd all go up this ramp together, with him in his little wheelchair, and we'd just sort of dump him in," Taylor explains. "Everyone was trying very hard not to laugh."

Diving deep

Season 1 shot in Los Angeles, but for season 2, Our Flag Means Death relocated to New Zealand. Many scenes were filmed in a studio or on the life-size recreation of the pirate ship Revenge, but Van Dyke, the visual effects supervisor, wanted to take advantage of New Zealand's natural beaches and ocean views — particularly for the scene where Blackbeard plunges off the cliff.

So, the crew scouted a gorgeous spot near Bethells Beach, capturing drone photography and 3-D photogrammetry. "LA's got a ton of great natural resources," Van Dyke explains, "but you might have a guy sitting there on the beach in your shot, drinking a beer out of a cooler that yours truly has to remove."

The actual ocean scenes were shot in an enormous indoor tank. Underwater filming isn't exactly easy, but fortunately, several members of the crew had experience on a certain blockbuster James Cameron production. "Thank God Avatar shot out there because we had a lot of seasoned underwater veterans," Van Dyke says with a laugh. "So, they knew what they were doing."

The tank itself wasn't deep enough to look like a real ocean, so Waititi had to float horizontally underwater, and the image was later flipped to make it seem like he was sinking downward. Then, Van Dyke and his team came in to clean up the shot, adding depth and adjusting the trajectory of bubbles. He also worked closely with Taylor and hair and makeup designer Nancy Hennah, who had to ensure that Waititi's enormous Blackbeard wig didn't float away.

"Look, CG hair is hard enough, and underwater is even harder," Van Dyke says, explaining that Hennah's meticulous wig work saved his team hours of effort. "There were some things that visual effects had to help out with, but we didn't have to stick a CG wig on him. So, thank you, Nancy, for doing that!"

The perfect soundtrack

Music has always been a major part of OFMD's DNA, and season 1 brought memorably anachronistic needle drops like Fleetwood Mac's "The Chain" and Leonard Cohen's "Avalanche." For the Stede/Blackbeard reunion, Jenkins picked an ethereal '80s classic: "This Woman's Work" by Kate Bush.

The song was always Jenkins' first choice for the scene, and it was written in the script, but music supervisor Maggie Phillips admits that she initially argued against it. Not only was the song originally written for John Hughes' She's Having a Baby, but it's been used in multiple TV shows and films, including Extras, Love and Basketball, and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Even Phillips herself had already placed it in another TV show, using it for a terrifying execution scene in The Handmaid's Tale season 2.

Plus, Stranger Things had just propelled Bush's "Running Up That Hill" to become the song of the summer in 2022. "I mean, I was so excited that the kids discovered Kate Bush," Phillips says with a laugh. "Ultimately, my feeling is that whenever Kate Bush gets exposed to new audiences, that's great. But I was fully like, 'Don't use this song. There's too much baggage.'"

Rhys Darby on the set of 'Our Flag Means Death' | CREDIT: GYPSY TAYLOR

Jenkins pushed back, noting that the song suggestion came from Waititi himself, who's wanted to use it in a project for about a decade. Still, Phillips remained hesitant. "I was like, 'Okay, I still think this is a bad idea,'" she says. "And then I saw a cut of [the scene], and I ate my words."

Bush's dreamy vocals give the whole sequence an ethereal feel, and Phillips says she loves how the lyrics — "I know you have a little life in you yet/I know you have a lot of strength left" — take on new meaning as Stede coaxes Blackbeard back to life. "I saw it in a totally new context, and I love it," she says. "They actually recontextualize the song and make it work in a new way. I got chills watching it."

Plus, Phillips adds, the scene got one particularly important stamp of approval: "We heard through Kate Bush's management that she was very pleased with the use and very excited, which made me really happy as a huge fan."

Our Flag Means Death airs Thursdays on Max.

Source: EW

#rhys darby #ofmd #our flag means death #taika waititi #behind the scenes #ofmd s2 spoilers

178 notes · View notes

astrolavas · 11 months

Note

Ok ok, but now is turn for the grimwalker HCs!! Give us the creature👀

!!!!! BET

once a grimwalker is "formed" they simply turn mostly organic, just like how palismen are live animals instead of wood (when activated). so even though the ingredients are still THERE technically, they appear as just like... normal stuff, so grimwalkers are mostly biologically the species that their ortet was, almost indistinguishable (hair is hair, skin is skin, there's blood flow despite there not initially being a heart, the galdorstone is there but it functions very similarly to a heart, etc etc) and yet sometimes the original ingredients' features somehow still "show up" in unique-to-grimwalkers ways. ㅤ

i imagine grimwalkers used to be like a more popular/frequent occurence in ancient demon realm. the process of creating a grimwalker was like a sacred magic ritual, only allowed in special cases (like maybe if a witch lost a child early and wasn't able to have another one, sth of the sort) so it was still very rare even back then and would have to be approved of by most of the community. however, then the tradition died off as ingredients started becoming more scarce, and most of knowledge about it was eventually lost to time. nowadays, grimwalkers are considered to be an extinct species as well as an urban legend/myth by boiling isles habitants, like a "supposedly extinct but there's no certainty if they ever even actually existed" situation (without taking hunter and his possibly-openly-a-grimwalker-in-the-future thing into account just yet). the books we saw hunter read in labyrinth runners have some right information but also lots of misinformation in them, since they're far removed from the direct source, based on only tidbits of actual info, and have been written by witches/demons, with no grimwalkers consulted (obviously); lots of it is speculation, and lots of it is wrong. (i imagine the only actual, entirely truthful info is in those scrolls and books we saw in belos' grimwalker lab, but even that isn't fully complete; and belos wouldn't have wanted to share it with the public anyway, for obvious reasons) additionally, i feel like grimwalkers have a sort of cryptid-like reputation in the boiling isles' pop culture. there are stories made up about them. there are teens making pink-eyed grimwalker ocs on the demon realm equivalent of deviantart and making up things like "grimwalkers can shoot lasers out of their eyes" or "they can raise the dead with their thoughts" LMAO. hunter gets a headache when he discovers all that. ㅤ

grimwalkers are semi-immune to boiling water. the selkidomus scales give them a lot of immunity so boiling water is not actually lethal to them but still, being exposed to boiling rain for a long while or full-on diving into the boiling sea may hurt a bit and prolonged contact with boiling water may leave them with blisters/burns. ㅤ

when grimwalkers' skin is wet for a long time, it gets somewhat scaley ??? scales-resembling texture ?? instead of just being pruney/wrinkled. when dry, their fingertips have a sort of wood-rings-y look. ㅤ

grimwalkers' hair naturally grows incredibly fast, but especially when they spend lots of time in the sun. plant magic may also affect its growth positively. ㅤ

grimwalkers' eyes are reflective and can glow/shine in the dark. ㅤ

when it comes to human-based grimwalkers (the golden guards), sometimes their ears would turn out rounder and human-looking, sometimes they'd look pointier but still not fully witch-like. belos preferred them to be round cuz obviously he preferred "caleb" to be human-looking, but with time he started modifying some grimwalkers' naturally round ears to be pointier just so that they could blend in easier and so they'd believe that they're witches too. he'd "mold" their ears during early creation or sometimes modify/cut them after, like he did his. (hunter's ears are naturally pointy and generally look like a witch's ears but, upon closer inspection, the details of his ears differ from a normal witch's ears juuuust slightly) (ears of the grimwalker that we saw in ftf were fully round because belos was counting on this one to be the golden guard post-day of unity, seemingly brought up as human and in the human realm) ㅤ

just like stonesleepers, grimwalkers often have a slightly sensitive spot behind their ears. ㅤㅤㅤ

palismen can somewhat sense that grimwalkers are also made of palistrom wood so they naturally cling to them more (big win for mr palisman enthusiast/carver hunter owlhouse!) ㅤㅤ

again, when it comes to specifically caleb-based/the golden guard grimwalkers, i can imagine that belos' first attempts were....... FAR from perfect. since i imagine he got all the information from different incomplete ancient scrolls, there were many things he had to come up with and re-discover himself. the very first grimwalkers he made probably didn't even survive for longer than a few minutes/hours. and when they did survive, i feel like the ingredients used were much more distinguishable at first too, not fully transformed into their organic counterparts; like for example some grimwalkers had more selkidomus-like or stonesleeper-like features, or were visibly wooden in some places, etc etc. i feel like belos didn't succeed in making a fully functional, stable and human/witch-looking grimwalker until he met the collector, and then did so thanks to their help. ㅤ

grimwalkers are already "harvestable" at early infancy and that's when you're "supposed" to unbury them, but they can technically emerge at any age (they just have to stay underground and age for the amount of time). i feel like there were also times when belos tried to speed up the process and age his grimwalkers up faster so that they'd be of use to him quicker, but that would also often result in the grimwalkers being unstable; so not really a good idea. (i envision that hunter was probably one of the youngest- if not the youngest- grimwalker belos had ever made, and that's also why he had high hopes for him lasting longer than the others; because he manipulated him since early childhood, starting in his most pivotal developmental years) ㅤ

i like to believe that the reason why flapjack was able to save hunter in thanks to them was because hunter's a grimwalker. if hunter had been a normal witch or a human, i don't think flapjack could do anything to help. (something abt the thing that hunter was ashamed of and hated abt himself ending up being the exact thing that makes saving him possible... you know?) ㅤ

for specifically caleb-based grimwalkers, i imagine that since they're mostly human in biology, they might also have issues with eating some particular demon realm food. not as much as luz of course, since they're not completely human + after years of living in the demon realm and basically eating ONLY demon realm food i can imagine your stomach would get mostly used to it, acclimated and all, but it probably still could result in some problems and discomfort. ㅤ

because of their stonesleeper lungs, grimwalkers are usually pretty still and motionless sleepers. they breathe very slowly when sleeping. ㅤ

you can't make a grimwalker out of a grimwalker. you can try, but the magic simply won't work correctly.

#i'm normal abt grimwalker lore...... GRHRGRRR i feel like i have so many more hcs that i'm forgetting rn #my toh talk #hunter toh #grimwalker #hunter #nicole answers #Anonymous

282 notes · View notes

thus-spoke-lo · 1 year

Text

cw: alcohol, pining a/n: modern au, bartender!Law. obsessed with the idea of Law being the sullen but charming bartender at some dive bar.

Bartender Law who first notices you one night with a gaggle of what he can only assume are work friends (given the business casual attire and the half-dead expressions as you all shuffle in the door and show your IDs). They drink, they smoke, they laugh too loud in the small space, they demand to commandeer the music system; you seem lost in a sea of large personalities, and he wonders if they dragged you with them, or if you went voluntarily. He sells them cheap beer and well liquor, and his head pounds as the noise level in the dingy dive bar grows, but he can’t help but be drawn to you--blank-faced, sitting off to the side, having the occasional quiet conversation with some older woman who’s sticking to ginger ale but mostly scrolling through your phone until someone accuses you of not having a good time.

He catches your eye now and again, trades in his sullen expression for a half-grin and a wink in solidarity—he knows these people suck, he wants to say, but just tough it out and you’ll probably earn some brownie points and maybe a reprieve from the next night out if you’re lucky. You seem unimpressed by his attempts, offering him a tight-lipped smile in return before burying your nose in your screen again. He runs his hand through his mess of black hair, finding your lack of interest curious. He wonders what he'd have to do to get your attention and keep it, but tries not to become distracted by your indifference as some belligerent blowhard in a suit flags him down for another beer.

Law announces last call, and the faceless crowd of office workers settle up and make their way out the door, singing and laughing and swearing they’ll never come back to this shithole. He looks over to see you still sitting there, one earbud in, watching something on your phone while you finish the drink you’ve been nursing. He sidles up to you, resting his head in his hands, and flatly asks what you’re watching. You’re cute, he thinks, the way you startle, realizing that it’s just you and him left in the bar, and you quickly apologize and scramble for your wallet. You should come back some time, he tells you, just maybe without your shitty group of friends. You smile, the only sincere one he’s seen from you all night, and say that perhaps you will—the company was awful but at least the drinks were good.

You’re all he can think about on the walk home—your sweet smile, and your downcast demeanor that was clearly a little off-putting to your coworkers (though they seemed like assholes, to be fair), and the way you only seemed to feel at ease once they were gone and it was just the two of you. He turns on the TV and closes his eyes, trying to put out of his mind the way your hips moved as you walked out of the bar, the way your skirt flowed with every step, to no avail. He sees a hundred faces every night moving in and out of the dimly-lit bar, never giving them a passing thought except for matching credit cards to faces as he closed out tabs, but there was something about yours that nestles in his mind, that makes him hope he’ll see you again, that maybe he could find a way to charm you enough to make you a regular.

He’s surprised to see you again a few nights later, and again a couple nights after that; soon, you spend most of your evenings in his presence, reading some soft-cover book he vaguely recognizes or scrolling through your phone or watching the few decrepit regulars playing pool and hurling insults at each other before laughing and slapping each other’s backs in jest. Weeknights aren’t exactly packed, so he wanders over to you, asks you in his low voice about your book, or what you’re watching, or comments on how Jim could have totally sunk that eight-ball if he weren’t more concerned about his beer. He feels his heart skip a little with every smile or laugh he elicits from you, starts chasing after them, getting drunk off your sweetness.

Law isn't exactly above trading in his usual glower for a charming grin, and flirting with patrons to earn a heftier tip—what else is the point of his good looks if he couldn’t deign himself to unbutton a couple more shirt buttons to show off his copious tattoos and lower his voice to a husky whisper just to watch the money drain from the wallets of lusty middle-aged office workers and college girls turning drinking age? But with you it never feels like flirting, never even feels like trying. It only feels like a conversation between two lonely people, one that could be happening anywhere, one that he wonders if he could have with you outside the walls of the darkened bar.

But he knows it’s wrong—he’s seen too many buddies ask out a patron and have it go horribly sideways; but then again, those idiots didn’t know their favorite customers the way he knows you.

He knows you because he listens. He listens, and he watches, and he patiently studies you like a textbook. Before long, he can read every quirk of your eyebrows, every smirk on your pretty lips, every nervous gesture you make as you fiddle with the cardboard drink coasters, slowly tearing it to bits as you rail about your stupid boss. He knows all the major players at your office, just as you know all the other employees at the bar, and he knows your mom's name, and your favorite drinks, and what you order on your pizza after you got a little too tipsy one night and decided to have one delivered for the two of you to share.

And he lets you in. He tells you about his tattoos, how the one on his chest is a tribute to a man who raised him and saved him from himself, even lets you run your fingers over the ones on his knuckles as you stare at them, glassy-eyed and vodka-drunk. He tells you about his failed attempt at medical school, and his favorite stories about unruly patrons. He tells you things that he's never told anyone--not for lack of wanting, but because he simply had no one to tell it to.

What he has with you is the closest he’s had to a functional relationship in—well, a while, and he pushes the idea out of his mind that perhaps he’s becoming so attached to you precisely because he has to keep you at arm’s length. He has suffered losses, losses unimaginable to most, and he knows that he cannot lose what he cannot possess.

And so he listens. He listens, and he adores, and he loves from across the wooden bartop. As far as Law is concerned, you belong to each other, even if it’s only in the confines of this smoky bar; in this sphere of his own creation, you are his and he is yours, and maybe that would have to be enough.

#lo writes #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece au

208 notes · View notes

stareiiez · 18 days

Text

𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 --- two.

simon ( ghost ) riley x female reader.

content : dark?? ghost. introing in graves and his shadows. modern settings. mentions of stalking. obsession. drinking. sex. female genitals. unhealthy attachments. violence. blood. smut in later chapters. dark topics. this is just my version of haunting adeline but for ghost. adult cis female reader. MDNI. 3.6k words.

note: Ox is the play on one of the few confirmed operatives in Shadow Company <3. He's just, as yk, named after Oxide. Getting into the juice of jealous!ghost too quickly is the spice for any good stalker fic lets be honest.

The alcohol and secondhand smoke of cheap cigarettes waft through the buzzing of the club's techno music. It's down and dirty, you can feel the bass in your heart and between your thighs if you ground your hips just low enough to the fast tempo that rewound for the umpteenth time that night. The pre-game at that dive bar had given you enough liquid courage to follow your two friends out the swinging doors and down the street to the neon purple and pink nightclub. Lemon drops and free drinks were thrumming through your entire system, and the set of rough hands that squeezed around your gyrating hips didn't feel half bad either.

You didn't catch his name, but 'Blue Eyes' was what you were referring to the man who was nearly half-folded against your back. His breath fanned over your cheekbone, and if you ground back just right against his swirling hips. You'd hear the slight hitch in his breath and low demanding grunt of more frivolous friction against his semi he was pleasantly sporting for no other woman than you. It's been too long since you got someone hot and horny for you. Not saying that you weren't ugly, or what's considered troll-like in the world. You just never had the time nor energy to go out there and support a man's one-tracked mind long enough to bring him back home and in your sheets for ten or twenty minutes of pleasure. If you were lucky enough, maybe he'd know how to find your clit and g-spot all without insistent guidance from you.

The demanding need for another refreshing shot of whiskey or lemon-ey cocktails had you pulling away from your dance partner's strong chance. His fingers caught on the hem of your dress to keep you in his grasp while he followed you without a complaint or him yanking you back into his built arms to start another round of dry humping on the dancefloor. His fingers skated from the side of your thigh to your side then finally tangling thick fingers around your wrist. It caused your head to swivel to look up at your Blue Eyes.

"Your friends and round of drinks are already at my table, why not join them instead of waiting for the bartender to notice you?" His voice pressed into your ear. Sharp astringent liquor and subtle desire for you, tickled your senses through his words.

Jesus, you nearly forgot you didn't come here alone. The hypnotic grinding and captivating presence of the man, now holding your wrist captive in his palm, had taken up your frontal cortex. You didn't even register how long it had been since you had been pulled off the bar top by Blue Eyes for your first dance. You must have looked like a crummy friend, abandoning your friends for a pretty face and dark hair just to fuel your liquor-tainted mind.

Not that your friends had minded much when you discovered them equally if not more drunk than you were.

You allowed yourself to be led by the wrist through the sea of grinding, perfume-tainted bodies to Blue Eyes's table that he was talking about. Three other men were lounged about, legs outspread with their hips raised to show the signs of whiskey dick through overly tight jeans. Your two friends were sandwiched between two of them men. Flushed faces and loud giggles expelling from their mouths as the two men sitting on either side of the girls, had been entertaining them with hushed whispers. The other man, some equally dark-haired male was refilling his glass with liquor; not bothered in the slightest that he didn't have a pretty thing to flirt with.

"_____" Izzy slurred slightly when you and Blue Eyes joined the rest of the group. Her weight started to jump and push at Veronica's side. Sweaty palms shoving at her shoulder to signal the girl and the other men to scoot over and make room on the rich leather booth. "You nearly missed out on the invite for the boys' after-party tonight."

Your brows barely raised in reply. "Graves, you don't mind, do you?" One of the men spoke up, his eyes watching the hand of your 'Graves' that had wrapped around your waist to guide you closer to him when he sat down. The sweaty heat of his body, had you pressing more into his addictingly strong frame. The liquor had you clingy. Your fingers mindlessly paw at the hem of his shirt while you gazed up at handsome features.

"I mean, unless this little thing didn't have any other plans tonight." His voice purred down at you. His lips turned up into an alluring smirk that made you want to kiss him drunk and stupid if you so wanted to. You wanted to, right now.

Your tongue pressed out from liquor-soaked brims to wet your bottom lip in taunting appeal. His pretty eyes darkened ever so slightly as if he could read your mind and all the thoughts that were running through your mind right now. How you had anything but the silly little 'afterparty' and learning the men's names that were flirting with your friends for quite some time. Your afterparty consisted of fewer clothes, maybe more liquor, and staying up till the sun was high in the sky and you were kicking him out with a killer migraine and a pleasant thumping between your legs.

You hummed under your breath, the tension between you two broke as soon as you turned your head to address Izzy. Your cheeks flushed with heat and alcohol.

"Probably not, early morning you know." You flashed a half-assed apologetic grin. Your left side of your body vibrated with a husky chuckle that came from Graves. His large palm squeezed your hip till his fingers slid to the sensitive crease of where your thigh met your hips. A sharp jolt ran through your system, and your legs tingled with a rush of electricity. Every single cell of you was not overly receptive to the wants and needs of your intoxicated mind. Who could blame you, after all, you're only human.

A predator-like grin slid on Graves's lips when he heard your phony excuse for ditching the rest of his boys and your friends for some high-quality alone time at your place. He couldn't blame you, after all, nobody complained when it came to fucking him. He was worth the time of losing sleep and dealing with police for several noise complaints that were made. Ask all the one-night stands and barrack bunnies, they'd rate him five stars on Yelp. He shifted under the warm feeling of your fingers playing with the sliver of skin you allowed yourself to touch while you dealt with the drunken groans and whines of your redheaded friend. Her eyes rolled with dramatics, while the blonde girl beside her huffed and pouted silently. If you dared to smooth your hands up further and to the side, you'd find a glorious little happy trail just waiting to lead you to what you were thinking about the most when you first started dancing with him.

"But I shouldn't leave you two alone, it wouldn't be right." Your voice quipped, cheeks flushing with embarrassment from being so openly handsy with Graves in front of his and your friends. Hands wringing themselves in your lap, your eyes darted to the faces of the three other men. It was the right thing to do. After all, nobody even introduced themselves to you besides Graves. And that doesn't even count, since it was a slip of the tongue from one of the men.

"Don't worry about them, darlin'. They don't bite." Graves huffed out, another chuckle leaving his lungs. His head ducked down slightly to send shivers through your spine when he spoke to you.

"Unless one of these pretty girls asks for it, ain't that right, boss?" The man who was pouring himself another drink when you first arrived to greet the group snarked; sending a few high-pitched giggles from your friends. Their cheeks flushing to match your blush. His teeth, pearly and white flashed in a wicked grin. Brown eyes gleamed with a subtle darkness that made you even more uneasy and unwilling to leave your friends alone with three strangers.

"Knock it off, Ox. Don't scare her. " Graves bit out, his blue eyes flashing in irritation. The grip he had on the crease of your thigh squeezed tighter; surely it would leave marks if he grasped at your plush skin even harder than he already was. "He doesn't mean it darlin', my boys are well-behaved and trained to be gentlemen."

One of the men, lean and blonde with a still giggling Veronica wrapped in his arms, swatted at the man who spoke so brashly. The hit was hard enough to erase the dark look in those brown eyes you were starting to dislike very much.

"Ox and Graves, your mommas must have hated you to name you that." Izzy giggled again, curling into Veronica's side so she could reach over and finish off the rest of her fruity cocktail. Her tongue hung out of her mouth almost childishly while trying to grasp the sweaty glass in her palm.

"You could say that, but that's not the case." The blonde-haired man beside her leaned over, pushing a different glass to her. It was filled to the brim with the same fruity drink both girls had been sucking down since they joined the boys for the night. Izzy took it in grateful hands, fruity straw placed between pink lips. "If you want, you can go, unlike these dogs of men that I'm unfortunately acquainted with. I'll make sure they're safe for the rest of the night. I'm the designated driver anyway." His lighter blue eyes swapped over to you, flashing a light charming smile in hopes you'd give up your guard and ignore the red flags of leaving your only two friends in the throes of three men for the night.

"You sure?" Your eyes rounded in belief. Thanks to the alcohol, it was too easy to trust an all-American looking man such as the man who was smiling and nodding at you. His pointer finger even crossed over his heart, like he was swearing himself to you.

You let out a sigh in defeat, head shaking back and forth. Red flags were blaring their sirens loud enough to almost drown out the thumping of the bass music and the goodbyes of both the men and your friends from their table. You forced the girls to make some sort of promise to at least text or share their locations for the rest of the night. Then, you let yourself be walked out of the club and to your parked car by Graves. His excuse was only "It was the right thing to do, never know if I'll see you again." The walk back to your car was quiet, it allowed your ears some reprieve from the loud techno beats and constant shrill scream of the DJ's voice in the microphone.

Your head tilted up, semi- clear vision lets the stars and moon in the night sky seem even brighter than normal. Although dead stars and a rock in the sky weren't going to captivate your eyes for much time. Under the spaced-out lights of the sidewalk streetlamps, you could finally see the chiseled side profile of the man you had been grinding and dancing with.

He was far more handsome than what the blue light and flashing neon lights of the club had shown you in quick bursts of color. He was a shadow that encompassed your body with the scent of his cologne and his constant running hands that moved here and there on your body. He didn't even feel solid in your grasp unless he was sitting down and holding you tight to his side with those commanding hands of his. Now under the fluorescent orange lamp lights, he looked like just a man. A man capable of finally being kissed and touched like any man would want to be touched if they were granted the chance.

"This is me." You said when you both approached your cute cherry red car. The neon lettering of 'Vaqueros' glared cooly onto the sleek body of your ride. Not entirely brand new, but up to date with all the bells and whistles that any fancy shmancy car these days came with.

You turned on your heel, lower back lightly pressing on your driver's side door just so you could gaze up at Graves who was standing close in your line of sight. Your breath got caught in your throat when his right hand raised from his side. His fingers tucked pieces of your hair behind your ear, while those alluring blue eyes of his flicked down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. "Think I can keep this gentlemanly streak going and kiss you goodnight." His voice uttered deeply. Another flicker of his eyes running up and down your face, had your cheeks flushing with a different kind of heat once again. His hand pressed to the side of your head.

"Only if you ask nicely, and don't bite like your boys say they do." Your head tilted into his cool palm, a welcome difference from the sweet heat your face carried too many times for just him alone.

His chest rumbled with a drawn-out chuckle. He shifted forward, booted feet taking the few steps forward until he had you now pinned to the uncomfortable curvature of your car door. His breath was still tainted with liquor and something woody had washed over your face. His free hand slid back into its rightful place back onto your hip; his fingers clamping down on soft curves with heavy greed. "Darlin' I usually don't ask or beg women for a kiss, but for you." A breath, his face drawing closer till his lips were only millimeters away from the swell of your own. "I'd get on my knees if you wanted me to." Sure, he was kidding, but for a pretty thing wrapped in his arms at this moment? He had to lead with his dick and not his pride and ego.

That was more than a green light for you to eliminate whatever little space you had between you too. Your lips pressed onto his own. He tasted of beer and something sharply metal that made your nose wrinkle and lips part in a quick gasp. The reaction was enough to let Graves advance and shove a thick tongue into your mouth, only furthering the strong taste your tastebuds didn't seem to agree with that much. You could ignore that for the fact that your entire body seemed to alight with brilliant electricity when Graves groaned so filthy into your open mouth. The sweeter taste of what you had been drinking, could be compared to straight-up liquid honey. Your tongue twirling around his own between deep kisses, was like giving pure sugar to a diabetic. Euphoric. The man only wanted more. He wanted to know if your cunt tasted just as sweet as your kisses were.

Both of your hands swiftly felt each other up, wrinkling and tugging at clothing while you both whimpered and groaned into each kiss. Two grown adults kissing like they were back in high school and pent-up virgins who never kissed the opposite sex once in their entire lives. It must look completely inappropriate to the naked eye, but you nor Graves cared. He had just managed to work a thick jean-clad high between your own. The rough fabric pushed your dress hem up, just to let the denim press right against your warm pussy when a loud noise startled you both into pulling apart from the make out session.

Your head whipped to the side at such a fast turn, that you swore you felt something pop in your vertebrae.

Loud would have been an underestimate of how hard your heart flip-flopped and tried flying out of your mouth from the sound of trashcans and metal banging together from the narrow alleyway that was made up of one part of the Vaqueros building. A broken streetlight, with sparks of orange and red, did nothing to illuminate whatever was the cause for such a commotion in the early hours of the morning.

If you focus hard enough, maybe even squint. You'd see a pair of eyes watching you from the murky blackness of the alleyway shadows. Just watching you like you were a crippled prey animal, and those eyes were your executioner here to take you out. "Maybe that's your cue to get goin'. " Graves whispered into your temple. His breath is still shaky from how hard you both were kissing each other. His words were muddy in your ringing ears, and hyper focused staring at the nothingness in the alley. His spit-slicked lips brushed against the soft curve of your ear. Rough fingers squeezed your hips for the umpteenth time that night. Your lower back responded by arching forward. Your cunt trailing up the length of his thick thigh with such a fluid motion.

The small touch between your thighs was enough to have you take in a breath and redirect your attention back onto Graves.

Heart pounding harder from the jumpscare than the rough touches that you were receiving. Some part of you wanted to offer him to just come over later and put behind the prickles of fear you felt at this moment. The other parts of you had agreed with the male. Your hand blindly pulled on the door handle of your car; ignoring the way that it was unlocked, you smiled sheepishly up to Graves. "Maybe, I'll see you around?"

"Maybe you will, darlin'. Don't miss me too much now." He chuckles huskily. His feet stepped back a few steps, just to allow your door to open and let you slide into the driver's seat. Once situated, he's gracious enough to close your door for you with another dazzling grin of his directed at you. You don't have the heart to tear your eyes off his handsome face, the kiss had you in some sort of buzzed trance of watching him retreat from your car and walk back the way you both came.

When he's gone and outta sight, blending into the night's shadows and fluorescent orange lamp lights you notice the flash of red out of the corner of your eye. You turn fully to your passenger seat, and a series of emotions overtake your body. Your eyes widen a few inches, brows knitted to sharp points. Your lips are parted in awe or shock at the perfectly blossomed red peony that was sitting delicately on the leather seat. Starking petals glared up at you in the semi-darkness of your car. If you were crazy enough, you would have thought the flower was making fun of you for how it managed to show up in your car in the first place.

Perhaps you shouldn't be staring at the single flower, but scanning over every single inch of your car to see if something or someone else was hiding in the small interior. Maybe you should be freaking out at the fact someone had managed to unlock your car, without breaking the windows or setting off the alarm, and leaving you just one innocent red peony. Any sane person would have started their car and driven like a bat out of hell away from the bar and back to their house and hid in their bed for the rest of the night. For you, however, the shock hadn't set in just yet. You didn't call 911, didn't scream for Graves to come back, and offered for him to stay with you just for your sanity. What you had done that was probably the most idiotic thing you could have done, however, was pluck up the flower from its resting place.

The dark green stem held with the tips of your pointer and thumb, your other hand opened your car door while your eyes remained on the bright flower. You then flung the peony away from you, as hard as one could throw a very light flower away from oneself. Your car door slammed shut with a loud bang, your eyes still staring at the flower as it sailed through the still air and plopped onto chipped parking lot tar. Every single petal was still in place, very much undisturbed and picture perfect like it was never even touched.

Chills ran through your body, cold and suddenly hot. You felt itchy, and uncomfortable in your skin. Suddenly aware of every single hair on your head and the erratic beat of your heart. You felt vulnerable and trapped in the confines of your car. You wanted to burn your fingers just for even touching the wretched little flora. How silly. You must look so mad, wiping your sweaty hands on the wrinkles of your dress till you nearly gave yourself friction burn on your palms. Another wave of chills encapsulated your body as you got your car to start and peel out of the parking lot. The tires squash the flower under its tracks without a care in the world. The eyes you had imagined that were watching you from the alleyway only narrowed at the harsh squeal of rubber against the pavement. The sound bounced off the quiet buildings while you too tried to disappear into the night.

Not that you ever could. Not from him. Not from those eyes in the alleyway that moved forward, when he was sure you were gone, to reveal Simon that had been lurking and watching you and that . . thing the entire time. His poor precious girl.

Perhaps now, he'll give you a good reason to hide in your bed after all.

#ghost cod #call of duty #cod x female reader #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #little mouse series #dead dove fic #call of duty modern warfare #phillip graves #graves x reader #i h8 graves sorry

34 notes · View notes

lionheartedmusings · 9 months

Text

with mousey and bad together on the server, there's been a lot of talking about her as satan (it's been clarified by mousey that all she remembers is that she's a demon from hell) and her as bad's boss, and i wanted to do a bit of a deep dive on bad's demon lore through both a "pop culture" view and a more traditional biblical view.

in pop culture we've had a lot of mixing up of demon lore in general, with the prevalent idea that demons are creations of hell, and not all of them necessarily fallen angels or previously heavenly beings — it's a perfectly valid analysis, but i'm firmly convinced that bad's character is not just any demon, but instead very much a powerful demon that was once an angel.

let's start with what we do know of q!bad's personal history and slot things into their proper place. we know he's around 11600 years old (making his "date of birth" somewhere around 9577 BC. we also know he arrived in this world (which in this case we have to assume is whichever dimension qsmp is held in) in 9600 BC which means he lived the majority of his life away from his home — he was barely 23 when he "moved".

we also know that he didn't come to this dimension willingly, that he was summoned and in that summoning he caused serious destruction — it's been made pretty apparent that the man sunk atlantis, and frankly there's still a question as to whether he did it on accident or not, or the reason why he keeps it hidden. according to bonnie the horse, he sent them a lot of "salty souls" once, and bonnie has also dubbed bad "death of the sea". it doesn't matter whether bad is hiding because what he did made him famous, or because he feels terrible — what matters here is that one singular demon was able to cause the destruction and sinking of a whole civilization singlehandedly. he was also able to do it at a pretty young age.

we also know that bad has eaten souls before (as well as anything he can get in his mouth, apparently), that he's got a way to avoid being summoned (as he told dapper he'd let him know later) and that for better or for worse, he's immortal. so, it's safe to say that bad is an extremely powerful being that cannot be killed by any means, and who has enough control over himself to not only hide his true nature but also contain himself to the highest degree.

speaking of death, bad's relationship with it is very interesting on a few levels. we know he's employed as a grim reaper (and that being a grim reaper is completely removed from his origins, it's just a job) and that to one degree or another, he's acknowledged mumza as the goddess of death as being canonical to him as well (yesterday tallulah spoke about death as a beautiful woman, and bad confirmed to chat she meant mumza).

but what is a grim reaper?

traditionally, grim reapers (or those who served their role) were nothing more than physical manifestations of death with the purpose of easing humans from one plane into the next. they're friendly and kind, and historically for the longest time (up until the middle ages and the plague) they were positive figures, reminiscent at many times of angels.

now, onto angels. angels biblically are far from the cherubic vision we see most often — they're whatever they're needed for. they can be kind-hearted messengers, but they're also warriors and if need be, and they can be incredibly dangerous to humans. why did some fall? simple enough, they sinned. there are passages in the bible regarding the fall of angels and they're described as losing the war in heaven, being cast down with "satan" (while satan and lucifer are not entirely interchangeable and they're often considered two different people, biblically today they're presumed to be the same so let's just roll with it for now) into hell. other passages speak of angels who sinned against god and who await judgement in hell.

but what does any of this have to do with badboyhalo, you ask? well… more than it seems at first if you put it all together. on a basic level, bad wouldn't be considered your average demon — yes, he's full of mischief, has an odd moral compass, and can be incredibly violent, but he's also very kind, and very gentle, and very very loving. there are contradictions in his personality that could be discounted as meta… but the evidence continues to pile up. bad is full of angel iconography, from the actual halo in his name and in his preferred design, but his new build in his home is really beating us over the head with it — he build two statues that can only be described as holy warriors, dark and demon-y but with a golden halo and beautiful white wings.

then, there's "the chair". which is not a chair, it's very much a throne, but for whatever reason bad seems vehemently opposed to admitting that it is, in fact, a throne — it's huge, and full of dark and red blocks, fire… and behind it? huge angel wings. now, one could argue that they're bones, but there are details in the blocks that very clearly allude to feathers — the idea of white feathery wings is a direct parallel to angels, and i think it's very intentional.

who, then, is badboyhalo? i'd put my money on his personal lore being connected to the demonology idea of "the princes of hell" — angels who fell from the grace of god, and took up their kingdoms in hell. i'm fully convinced that bad is a prince of hell. now, which one? that's trickier, and not something we know enough to real pinpoint, especially when you consider that the identity of the princes of hell is pretty fluid — there's a lot of different texts who name different demons, so i'm choosing to simplify it until we get more information.

tl;dr - badboyhalo is not just any ol' demon, but a fallen angel — one of the "princes of hell".

a special thanks to @comradeboyhalo because this post was very handy!

#qsmp #q!badboyhalo #qsmp theory #qsmp analysis #qsmp badboyhalo #long post #this is..... too long and convoluted but here we go

144 notes · View notes

strongheartneteyam · 1 year

Text

Love song.

Pairing: soft!Ao'nung x female!metkayina!reader

CW: fluff!!! <3, unrequited love (reader doesn't know Ao'nung loves her too), angst, kinda innocent/pure vibes

I got inspired to write this after looking at a lovely gift of Ao'nung smiling and remembering one of my favorite Evanescence songs, "You". The reader sings the song, but, in the story, the lyrics and melody are her creation. Also, I realize that this is almost an AU bc ao'nung is sweet af here and well lol he ain't in the canon version (unless he'd be like that for his mate only ahahah)

༄♡

After the eclipse, you were standing inside the ocean, with the cold water covering up to your hips, alone. You started to trace the waters with your fingers, while thinking about the silly boy you loved.

"Oh, Ao'nung, if only you knew.." The words echoed in the night

You had a little song that you had composed, Ao'nung being your inspiration. You were a great singer. It had been so since you were a little child. The people would ask you to sing for them.

The melody started to come alive, coming out of your throat:

And I can't sleep, I need to tell you... goodnight

When we're together I feel perfect

When I'm pulled away from you I fall apart

All that you say is sacred to me

Your eyes are so blue, I can't look away as we lay in the stillness

You whisper to me:

(y/n), marry me, promise you'll stay with me

Oh, you don't have to ask me, you know you're all that I live for

You know I'd die just to hold you, stay with you

Somehow I'll show you that you are my night sky

I've always been right behind you

That was all you had come up with until that moment, so, you sighed and stopped singing.

You were looking over to the deeper waters in front of you and thinking about diving in when you heard a familiar voice say:

"Now I know." It was Ao'nung, standing in the sand, smiling at you

He walked slowly into the water, eyes still on you, smile still on his face. You heard the water sounds his body made while he moved and waited, frozen in your place.

When he finally arrived right in from of you, he wasted no time and in less than a second grabbed you by the waist and started kissing you. He kissed you hard. You melted at his mouth and started kissing him back. Soft lip smacking sounds could be heard in the air, as he savored the way you tasted in his tongue. He held you tight, your body glued to his. You could feel his heart beating fast inside of his chest and so did yours. He breathed deep, lips still on yours. His tongue touched your lips and you opened your mouth. Ao'nung licked your tongue over and over, feeling you do the same to his. He finally let go of your lips, out of breath.

"Oel ngati kameie." (I see you)

He said, touching his chest

"Oel ngati kameie" You answered, looking deep into his light blue eyes. They were more beautiful than any part of the sea you had ever seen.

He smiled slightly, showing no teeth, and you smiled wide, your fangs touching your lower lip.

"You're so cute." He said, rubbing the skin of your cheek with his thumb

He leaned closer, still touching your face, and kissed you again. His lips were so soft, wet and warm. You felt like you were dreaming but it was reality, this time.

The lyrics that were missing to complete your song came suddenly to your head:

Now that you love me I love myself

I never thought I would say that

I never thought there'd be you

༄♡

My heart was hurting in a good way while I wrote this 🥲

Please, like and/or reblog this post if you liked it and leave a comment telling me what you think 💙

201 notes · View notes

wordy-little-witch · 4 months

Text

Oh God Oh man oh jeez

Okay so. Angst. But like.

I'll put trigger warnings for it but this occurred to me at work and I'm just losing my MARBLES but-

TW for mental health issues, SH topics, hurt/comfort

Buggy growing up on a pirate ship probably lead to more than a few bad coping mechanisms- add in the sense of inferiority, his general anxious demeanor, etc, he probably hid a lot of things, even from the people he trusted most- especially from the people he trusted most.

Buggy likely had anxiety attacks or panic attacks fairly often - at first, it was handled with care, but when it became a recurring theme, some started finding it troublesome or obnoxious. When Buggy got to a certain point, he'd slip away to handle it on his own.

The only ones who really noticed or even cared enough to follow after him were Roger, who rarely COULD follow, Rayleigh, who was also often involved in the fall out, and Shanks, who would try but couldn't always get to him. Eventually Buggy, losing his shit and alone, accidently gets hurt during one of the attacks, either by nails or smth else. And suddenly things start... feeling solid. Less blurry, less frantic. Everything narrows down to the sharp-sting-hot lines and the red on his skin.

It becomes smth of a crutch to him.

He takes to wearing wrist bands, gloves, he is a bit more feisty about privacy, but very few clock something being wrong. Only Roger, Ray and Shanks feel like something is slightly off. They notice things going missing, they see how Buggy flinches sometimes with certain movements, but there's nothing concrete. There's red flags but they can't see the flagpoles to chase them back to the source.

Buggy gets in the habit of cutting young.

And then suddenly there is a Devil Fruit on board. A map, a chance, a fortune - he loves this family but he feels they don't love him. He isn't LIKE them. He's not strong like them, fast like them, he's just... Buggy. He's always just been Buggy, and Buggy has never been enough.

He plans to steal away in the night, under cover of darkness, leaving the crew short some money, sure, but they won't have the added weight of himself. He is just an anchor to them.

But Shanks finds him.

Shanks startles him.

Shanks slaps his back, tries to cheer him up, and the fruit goes down his throat, the magic explodes in his stomach, he gets angry, so so so angry, he is seeing red and he's raging and he's falling and-

And he's drowning.

Oh.

It was a real devil fruit.

Well... one way or another... he wanted to leave.

Shanks jumps after him. Shanks saves him. Buggy is soaked, cold, coughing and dizzy, and Shanks is beside him, is warm, and he's tempted, so tempted to lean into it and so he does-

And Shanks is pulled away. He opens his eyes, and the crew is there. Someone had wrapped Shanks in a towel, was fussing over him, someone was cheering for his "bravery" and Buggy-

He's cold.

He staggers to his feet, dripping, and he stumbles towards his room. Roger tries to stop him, grabs his shoulders, but Buggy is dripping with more than just sea water even though the steady streams are just as salted, so he pulls away and he runs.

He dives into their room, grabs his knife, his knees hit the floor and he moves and-

He lost the fruit.

He lost the map.

He lost his whole hand just now too.

No pain, just a split over his wrist, surreal and impossible and he can't- he can't breathe, he- what-

He drops his knife, the hand reattaches and he curls into a ball, hands burying in his hair, and he cries - silent as the grave, he is sobbing, hiccuping and sniffling, pulling his hair and he can't, he can't he can't-

Arms wrap around him, big, warm, the scent of sea air and rum and spiced strawberries, and Buggy clings to his captain as he simply shatters.

Roger sees the scars on his limbs, but he doesn't respond beyond hugging Buggy a little tighter. He doesn't react as he helps Buggy change, as he wraps his kid in his coat and holds him close, as he stares at the far wall and wonders how long and why and why didn't I know?

He doesn't say anything that night - not to Buggy at least.

He does talk to Rayleigh.

He leaves both of his sons curled up together in his own bed, tucked in with his own coat, and he meets Shanks' eyes, nods to the hardened little fire burning within them, a silent conversation of look after him and I Will echoing in the wooden walled room, and he goes to the only other person who will understand the rage, the fear, and they hug one another in silence.

Buggy is not okay. He hasn't been for a very, very long time, but they refuse to let him slip through the cracks, even if they have to chisel their way down to him themselves.

And this? This action, this choice? It changes EVERYTHING.

#buggy rayleigh #buggy roger #roger pirates #shanks and buggy #angst #hurt/comfort #yes i am projecting #leave me alone #if i didn’t get it then my blorbo will

33 notes · View notes

antibioware · 11 months

Note

ok i'll bite. have you read any one piece fics, and are there any you would recommend?

you're so damn lucky One Piece is a fandom full of shit fanfictions because last time someone asked me a question like this, they ended with a 50+ fanfictions rec list.

Anyway, I'm gonna divide the list between gen/pairingless fics and fics with a romantic pairing.

NO PAIRING:

for all the love and gold (don't just do as you are told) by guiltylights

Nami asks Sanji to reduce the amount of money spent on grocery shopping.

Blood of the Covenant by kiite

Zeff never wanted a kid. A restaurant, sure— but he hadn’t planned for the kid. (Or: a brief look at Sanji’s childhood, through the eyes of the man who raised him.)

triskelion by razbliuto

Sink your fangs in, sister, and don't let go. — The Boa Sisters, still breathing despite all odds.

[this one is insanely good, literally made both me and my girlfriend cry]

UV by razbliuto (Viola/Doflamingo, Viola/Monet)

There's only a one letter difference between ultraviolet and ultraviolent. — Viola, and the art of unforgetting.

[while this one does have pairings, it's less a romantic story and more a deep dive into traumatic relationships in Viola's life. This is my absolute favourite OP fanfiction and it's heavy, be warned]

that certain calmness by grainjew

Because Sanji's rebellion has always been service, and there is nobody he would rather bow to than his captain.

you are not immune by pheenick

It starts with a rather gut-busting sneeze that’s concerning enough to bring all conversation juddering to a halt. Sanji blinks, absently patting his chest before furrowing his brow at a strange thickness congealing in his throat. Another sneeze. Fuck.

Customer Service in the Food Industry by Maldoror_Chant

They were starving. That was reason enough for Zeff to open the Baratie's doors and feed them, whoever the hell they were. Then he offered them a job, because the waiters and most of the other cooks had all jumped ship again and these guys looked kinda tough and not likely to scare easy. He didn't care if they were refugees of the World Government, he didn't care about their past, he didn't care what else they could do as long as the dishes were cleaned, the soup served, the vegetables chopped and Zeff's rules respected. Oh, and the pigeon had to stay out of the kitchen. That was a must. Give the Health Inspector the wiggins otherwise. Oddly enough, it did not turn out to be a complete and utter disaster. Strange things happen on the seas.

[CP9 post-Water 7 start working at the Baratie, the concept is so funny]

nothing to do (with you) by guiltylights

Judge thinks that Sanji is a failure of a son. Zeff doesn't think that much of Judge at all.

the mortality of kings by guiltylights

Zoro and Sanji, the right and left-hand men of the future Pirate King.

breathlessly, live (there's a place for us) by guiltylights (modern AU)

'You don’t have to prove anything, you know,’ Nami says finally. Sanji frowns, puzzled. ‘I’m not proving anything?’ ‘No Sanji, I think you are. It sometimes feels like you’re doing this more for your own sake than for mine.'

we slept on the ocean last night by Origamidragons

It starts like this: Luffy can’t sleep alone. (Pirates have nightmares, too. The Strawhats, as always, find a way through.)

PAIRINGS:

Burning Man by neonglaceon (Zoro/Sanji, multiple chapters, M rating for sex scenes)

“You’re lucky, Zoro,” she had spat, eyes turned up towards the sky, like she was trying to hold in tears. He'd never seen Kuina cry before. He’d never seen any expression on her face other than her teeth gritted in determination or her grinning in victory. “I want to be the greatest swordsman too. But girls grow up, and their bodies become weaker than men's. I’m never going to be the greatest.” Kuina tells him this, and Zoro can barely comprehend the words she’s saying. He thinks of the countless hours he’s spent training by the river bed, the green locks of his hair left on the floor after Koushirou helped him shear it all off, of the people he thought of as family a lifetime ago calling him by a name he despised. Zoro puts a hand to his chest, where he’d hastily wrapped bandages earlier that day, remembering how his body had begun changing and he didn’t understand why- “You’re lucky to have been born a man, Zoro,” Kuina finishes lamely. Zoro sees red.

[This is THE trans man Zoro fic and one of my favourite zosan fanfics, I suggest to pay attention to the trigger warnings before reading]

and then the sun came out by demonzoro (shrinewreck) (Zoro/Sanji, M rating for sex scenes)

Maybe there is something to be said that the first time they kiss, they kiss on a sinking ship. As if to say: this too, is inevitable. The waves are gnashing above the sea’s bottomless maw, and the timbers of the sinking galleon groan their own dirge – as far as this space of sea is concerned, the world is ending. Then there they are, balanced on the cusp of it, concerned only with how they exist relative to each other. There’s an awful devotion to it, and it shouldn’t be romantic. But Sanji is hopeless. He’s always wanted a love like this.

Be Hungry For Me byJacknessofHearts (Sanji/Usopp)

It takes more than years for Sanji and Usopp to confront their feelings. It also takes a lot of good food.

Don't Look Back byJacknessofHearts (Nami/Vivi)

Nami and Vivi and saying good-bye.

[This is the best namivivi break-up fic]

Like Ink Through Her Veins by grainjew (background Nami/Vivi)

Vivi manages, away from her crew. Usually, managing means ruling a country, reading the newspaper, and checking up on her father. Sometimes, though, it means sneaking out of the palace at midnight and getting drunk with passing pirates.

[while this isn't a pairing fic as much as it's a Vivi-focused story, the romantic pairing is important enough to the story to finish on this side of the list]

poison and wine by Origamidragons (Nami/Vinsmoke Reiju)

Nami isn't expecting to run into Vinsmoke Reiju plotting a murder at the same high-society party where she's planning a heist, but, well. Two birds, one stone.

You, Drowning Between My Arms by ginger_snappin (Sanji/Usopp, M rating )

Again and again, Sanji is forced to relive the day after he rejected Usopp.

[God I fucking love "stuck in a time loop" fanfictions, especially if they have characters as well written as this one]

salvage by hongmunmu (background Sanji/Usopp)

Franky offered Usopp a place in his family. Leaving Water 7 on the Thousand Sunny, Usopp considers who he is, why he left, and why he's there now.

[fic focuses more on Franky and Usopp's student/mentor relationship than romance, but as before, it falls more on the pairing fic side of the spectrum]

free and alone, together bysrididdledeedee (Alvida/Boa Hancock)

In which Alvida arrives on Amazon Lily, and everything changes.

Easy as Anything, Simple as That by Trixree (Sanji/Luffy)

��Luffy? What’s the matter?” “We’re gonna’ have a wedding,” he says incomprehensibly. Which—no. Absolutely not. Haven’t they had enough of weddings, lately? Nami's certainly had enough for a lifetime, thanks. “What are you talking about? What wedding?” she demands as coherently as she can while running on only two-and-a-half hours of sleep. “Mine and Sanji’s,” Luffy declares.

a glance that holds the world and all its seas by JacknessofHearts (Sanji/Usopp)

It's the big party after defeating Hody Jones. Usopp gets Sanji away from all the mermaids. (Honestly, Sanji, these nosebleeds are disgusting.)

Inevitable by LibbyLune (Zoro/Sanji, M rating for violence)

A closer call than usual makes Sanji give a precipitously timed confession, and waiting for Chopper to let him out of the infirmary makes waiting for a response much worse than he could have anticipated.

To Argue and to Cherish by modeoheim (Zoro/Sanji)

On a small island, on a lovely night full of music and fun and food, Zoro and Sanji accidentally get married. It is as ridiculous as it sounds—or at least it is at first, until Zoro finds being married to Blackleg Sanji isn't as bad as one might assume.

Variations On A Theme by rainsometimes (Franky/Nico Robin)

Four short interconnected pieces in which Franky does not save Robin from drowning. Although he’d like to.

stolen things by Origamidragons (Nami/Vivi)

A catalogue of things stolen by, for, and from Princess Vivi of Alabasta with regards to a certain thief, as documented by her long-suffering captain of the guard.

But Patience Boasts by Augment (background Zoro/Luffy)

Sanji and Zoro have very different love languages.

NSFW/Just Porn:

Little Things by KuriKuri (Zoro/Law, NSFW)

“Yeah, well,” Zoro says, “I thought you’d say no.” “Why would I say no?” Law asks, the corners of his lips tugging down in a frown. “Because you’re a control freak,” Zoro snorts, looking away from the sake bottle to meet Law’s eyes instead. “I thought control freaks didn’t drink.”

eager baby, blue by torkz (Nico Robin/Jinbei, NSFW)

Jimbei is training, and Robin is not immune to huge, handsome men in blue.

go back to sleep by itsmylifekay (Zoro/Sanji, NSFW)

His skin tingles with an unfamiliar sensation and he shifts, mind becoming more alert as he takes in his surroundings and the strange, lingering warmth on his arm. If he concentrates hard enough, he can feel the fading shape of long fingers pressed into his skin. “Go back to sleep, stupid marimo,” he hears. Sanji is standing close by, pulling on the last of his clothes and straightening his tie. His voice is low in the softness of the early morning and Zoro grunts at the words.

#long post #one piece #one piece fanfiction

66 notes · View notes

perpetualexistence · 3 months

Text

Sea Monster AU: Poor Unfortunate Soul (2/2)

youtube

(Why this cover in particular? Mainly because the thumbnail is cool. Also, annapatsu's covers always slap without fail.)

So! It's been a while! Partially because this chapter ended up longer than anticipated. Partially because I got distracted with other AUs because the ADHD mind takes me where it wants to take me. I think it's just going to be safer to not have a set schedule for when these come out because that's apparently just not how my brain wants to work. But I could never forget about this AU! Bit by bit, it will get done, as you can see here!

But here we are! Welcome back to Noah making drastic life choices because Alejandro is a toxic manipulative bastard. Drastic enough to warrant more content warnings.

Content warnings: Murder, cannibalism, toxic relationship, body horror

Once more, the asterisks return for the most gruesome bits. I've got a safer summary of what happens in the asterisks at the bottom.

If you ever think I need more content warnings, please do let me know and I'll add them immediately.

Without further ado, time to dive into Noah's further exploration into magic!

<- Prev | First | Next ->

With gills, Noah can now begin with proper magic. There's the spell that would make Alejandro smaller that he still needs to find in his book. There's also the problem of needing a back up plan. If he fails to shrink Alejandro, then Alejandro will kill him. He won't be able to talk his way out of it. He'll need the ability to fight back.

The book can sense his desire to defend himself. It flips to a page that promises a ritual that will grant his body the ability to do just that. It will even make magic easier to perform. Perfect. His only problem is the lack of details on the outcome. Try as he might, the book always flips back to how to cast the spell, and away from what happens after. Considering what happened the last time he tried to force something out of the book, he decides settling for this spell will be easier. The book throws him a bone with mention that this won't be as permanent as the gills, so that's something.

Noah's reading through the list of things he needs for the ritual. Rune knife, check. A bunch of salt, weird, but whatever. Flesh. At least a whole body's worth. The closer the attachment, the better the results. And to finish it off?

Consume the heart.

Noah's frantically looking at the alternative for flesh. He'd essentially need to alchemically recreate a human being. How many more ships would he have to sacrifice to make that happen? Countless, probably. People are already noticing the disappearances. There's no way he'd get all of this before he and Alejandro get caught. If Alejandro gets caught, people are going to go after him. Innocent people, sailing to their deaths because they have no idea about how Noah's been fighting to keep them off the menu.

So flesh it is. Time to kill a person. It's not like this is anything new. He already killed Chris. Even if that one was in complete self defense. And this one would very much be calculated. It'd be easier if he could just sneak away a corpse from one of Alejandro's feeding frenzies. But Alejandro's his ride there and back. There's no hiding a corpse from him.

So he's going to have to kill this one all on his own. In cold-blood. With his twig arms. At least he semi-knows how to defend himself.

Before he got Chef killed, Chef had insisted on teaching him self defense. Said his scrawny ass would have to worry about people just as much as monsters. Forced him to carry stuff with him. Noah did start noticing a difference, however small. Chef was gruff about it, but he did acknowledge it. All in all, Chef was pretty decent. He wasn't completely unreasonable. Not like Chris. Maybe-

No. Noah can't afford to go down that line of thinking. Chef loved Chris. He'd do anything for that man. Maybe Chef did know the true plan, and was still helping Chris. Even if he didn't, he never would have rested if he was allowed to live. Noah couldn't risk revenge killing. Chef had his uses, and now it'll make this job a bit easier.

He needs to kill someone on land. It has to be someone who deserves it. The closer, the better. Thanks to recent events, there's one person who comes to mind. The loan shark who has been hassling his family for years. He's back in town now, and Noah doubts anyone will miss him. He could use his hacking abilities to try to narrow down his exact location. Still, can't walk into a lion's den. He'll be really lucky to take the loan shark down. More than that? Absolutely not. Noah needs to isolate the loan shark, and have him come to Noah. That's going to require tact Noah doesn't have.

But he knows the perfect teacher.

Alejandro is incredibly pleased when Noah tells him that he wants to learn more about hunting. It seems that any concern about what he had been doing with Chef and Chris get quashed when Noah leans into murder. He has to lie about how it felt to kill Chris. Not as much as he thought he would. Chris had it coming. Noah just has to pretend the anger comes less from how he would have sacrificed the town and more from how he would have brainwashed Alejandro.

It's not like he's really lying about it per se. He would have felt bad to completely steal someone's autonomy away. Even if it had been Alejandro. Still, that doesn't dispel the worm of guilt as he swears he recognizes appreciation and fondness in Alejandro's eyes.

There's a part of him that wants to reciprocate. There is. It's the part of him that remembers that Alejandro is the first person he ever got close to and vulnerable with. That recognizes that their relationship has to be more than that of convenience. Why else would Alejandro insist on learning everything about Noah and hanging out even when not hunting? He gushes over romance novels and is jealous of Noah's dog, for fuck's sake. Neither of those things would obviously make him more endearing to Noah if that was Alejandro's goal. It's why they are so endearing.

Yet here Alejandro is. Gushing over his newfound appreciation for the craft of killing. How the yacht incident is forgiven. Forgiven? Like Noah was the one in the wrong for saying no to Alejandro one time? For having a nice night out with people that weren't Alejandro? My god, it wasn't even about the no, was it? It was that Noah could have a positive interaction with anyone except Alejandro. Enough to prioritize himself over pleasing Alejandro. The eel is possessive, and he got jealous, and innocent people had to die for that.

Noah is an object to Alejandro. A pet, if he's feeling generous. He's made that very clear. Alejandro will accept nothing less. So Noah can't give him that choice. He'll shrink Alejandro, and make him the pet instead.

It's the only way he anyone feel be safe.

So he plays up the monstrous version of himself that Alejandro wants. It's easier than it should be. Good. That makes it more believable. He uses the fact that his relationship with the loan shark is personal to excuse wanting to do the kill and take care of the body himself. He never outright says it, but he implies Alejandro as an inspiration for his change in tune.

He takes solace in the fact that all of this is still a lie. It has to be.

He gets in touch with the loan shark through nicking his mother's phone. Not one of his prouder moments, but that ship has sailed, sunk, and rotted away long ago. With the added guile he's learned from Alejandro, he's able to trick the loan shark into coming to a place near Chris's beach house. He's going to pay off the rest of the debt in person to make sure they don't have to do this ever again.

Noah is going to bring a suitcase full of cash that he's saved up from selling off his stolen goods. He needs a reason for the man to get close enough so Noah can stab him with his ritual knife.

Noah would love it if he could just put a bullet in the man's brain without having to get close to him. There are multiple problems with this. One, Noah would need a gun. Two, knowing how finnicky magic is, Noah would have to make a gun. Three, Noah would have to learn how to use the gun. Four, Noah might be searched for weapons. It's a lot of time and effort that Noah's not willing to spend.

The nice thing about magic ritual knives is that, once attuned, they can be summoned at will. So no worry about being caught with a weapon. So, time for the actual stabbing. It's not too hard to find the motivation. He remembers the time he called his oldest sister 'mom'. He was only about four or five at the time. He only knew his mother existed in theory. She just used home as a place to sleep in between jobs. The eldest siblings had been forced to pick up the slack of parenting by necessity. He didn't understand why his sister had sobbed and run to their mother. He could hear the words they shared. But he wouldn't process a child mourning the loss of their childhood until years later.

He knew their father was the one truly to blame for leaving them all to this situation. Noah would twist the knife into his father's back if he could. He'll settle for doing the same to the leech that took advantage of their situation and was still attempting to suck them dry.

***

He's more present for this murder than he was for Chris's. It feels like he's watching someone else in his body, but he's aware enough that he is controlling his own body and remembers this. He wants to remember this one.

Once the loan shark gets close enough, it's a knee to the groin. Noah's fighting to win. A summoned knife to slash him across the neck. Noah misses. The shark didn't fall as fast as he thought he would. The shark uses two hands to grabs him by the wrist and attempts to pull the knife away. Not good, Noah can already feel himself losing that battle.

With a flick of his wrist, the knife glows. It switches from his right hand to his left. He goes for a stab into the side. With luck, he can puncture a lung. He's not used to using his off hand. He doesn't hit a lung, but he does get him in the side. He pulls the knife out quick. Blood pours out from the wound Noah just made. The shark is bleeding now. Not enough for Noah's liking. Noah notices his knife glow, and sees that the blood is being sucked into the runes. That's concerning. But Noah doesn't have time to process that.

Not when the shark takes advantage of his self-made distraction to tackle Noah. Noah goes down quick. He drops the knife in the tackle. The shark is strangling him while he still has the strength to do so. Made even worse by the fact that the shark's fingers are digging into Noah's gills, too. He's gagging, and choking, and he needs to end this now.

He tries to wrestle the shark's hands away from his throat. It does nothing. His strength was never going to be a match for the shark's. He can feel the shark's nails dig into his gills. Now he's choking both on air and his own blood. Spots are dancing in his vision. They're broken by a soft glow. The knife. The knife!

Noah stops trying to stop the choking. Instead, he summons his knife to his hand once more. This wasn't how Noah wanted the bastard to get close, but it'll do. He's right on top of him. The shark is so focused on Noah's throat that he left Noah's arms free. He uses both his hands to make the knife pierces the shark right through his neck. The shark slumps over Noah. Shock? Death? Noah's not sure. He isn't taking chances.

He wriggles out from underneath and stabs him in the throat again. He swore he saw a twitch. Again. The breath of life attempting to work its way through the hole in his throat. Again. Glassy eyes reflect a face Noah can't recognize as his own. Again. Noah's throat feels raw. Was it the choking or is it his screaming? Again. Laughing, or crying? Again. It doesn't matter. Again. It must be done. Again.

His arms tire. The deed is done.

Clean up feels like it takes forever. Still, for all this work he's put into this, he can't afford to be sloppy now. He drags the corpse back. It was a risk hunting his prey so close to his beach house. But the farther he has to take it, the more he'd risk being spotted. So close it is.

Some tension leaves his shoulders once he's inside. But it's not over yet. He drags the corpse all the way to his cove. He dumps the sack of flesh into the water. He dives in after it.

The cool water soothes his aching gills. Right, he'd forgotten about that. He takes a moment to run his hands gently across his gills. At least his scarf will hide the bruises. He cleans the blood off. He hopes that'll be enough because that's the extent to his knowledge on how magic gills work.

Now for the ritual proper. The water is salted, the circle set, incantations spoken. Now, for the body. It's in the center of the circle, but that's not enough. He has to commit one more vile act to see this through.

No time for holding back. He's doing this so no one else has to. At least the earlier cut makes it easier to cut through and reach the heart. He cuts it out and holds it in his trembling hand. There's no going back after this. Then again, there never was.

He closes his eyes and bites into the heart. It feels softer than he expected. Leftover blood bursts onto his tongue. The iron taste makes him gag. He rips away the bite. He chews. He goes for another. His teeth are sore. This one feels easier. His teeth are sharper. The iron loses its sour tang and becomes sweeter. He'd be lying if he said he was never curious about why Alejandro always insisted on eating Noah's kind. He thinks he gets it now.

Oh god. He thinks he gets it now.

He consumes it as quickly as he can manage, before the rest of his thoughts catch up with him. Everything glows, and his body is racked with pain. He passes out in shock.

***

When he comes to, the circle is empty. His body feels heavier. He kicks his feet to try to get back to the surface to gather himself...but he can't. He looks down to see eight tentacles, amber with rings of blue and black, where his legs should be.

On instinct he tries to swim away, but he's not used to wielding eight lower limbs rather than two. Most of them smack at each other in an attempt to replicate legs to swim. Noah's fucked up. He's fucked up so bad. 'Won't be permanent' was a lie that he fell for and now he's given up the humanity he was struggling so hard to keep and why can't he just have his own fucking legs back-

And suddenly he's looking at his legs again. He blinks as he processes the new yet familiar sight. Okay? Okay. This is, maybe that was some kind of stress and magic induced hallucination? They had looked so real though-

And the tentacles are back. Of course he wouldn't be so lucky. At least the 'won't be permanent' thing wasn't a complete lie. He just has to learn how to control the changes. And control the tentacles. Just like the gills. And just settle into his new life as a half-octopus. Cecaelia? Merfolk.

Like Alejandro.

Oh. A body to defend himself.

Well.

He can work with this.

[Noah fights against the loan shark. He wins, and drags what remains back to the beach house he 'inherited' from Chris. He performs the ritual successfully and passes out due to shock.]

23 notes · View notes