#imperator crew

[nucleiaster]

Species swap with the Radio Isotope and Imperator crews! Inspired by Ryoko Kui's art for Dungeon Meshi of course, it was a great exercise and helped me refine how Armisian and Isshan look and tentatively settle on a base for KseIn designs!

Bonus :

More info on each species under the cut.

Isshan : They were the first to leave their home planet and make contact with the other people of the star cluster, first the Armisians, then the KseIn and finally the humans. Their society is mainly made of nomadic clans, with only a few permanently settled cities on their home planet. Many spationaut legends and superstitions find their origin in Isshan religion, and spationaut common tongue is an evolution of Isshan trading language. The name of the star cluster comes from the name given by the Isshan to the night sky, Laani nab'ataream, the one with a thousand stars.

Human : They arrived in the star cluster long after Isshan and Armisian mastered space travel, in two fleets of old generation ships. The ships' record were corrupted and the only logs recovered were from the end of their journey. With no homeworld in the cluster and their ships falling apart, humans spread across the cluster, and their high adaptability, durability and small stature made them great spaceship and station workers. The older generations decided to stay on the ships they came with, and other set their sight on terraforming a barren planet in the Center, Noutéra. Humans are, with the Isshan, the most represented species across the cluster.

Armisian : They are a telepathic species, communicating mainly through emotions and impressions. On their homeworld, they are part of a network of individuals, surrounded by the experiences, feelings and presence of others, but as they leave the planet, they become separated from this network. Loneliness is extremely painful for Armisians, and prolonged isolation can become dangerous. Some do leave their planet, but never alone. Armisians have a hard time adapting to the other species technology and communication style, as words are not used to convey important information in their culture : the real conversation is made through thought.

KseIn : Like the Armisians, there are not many KseIn in the One With A Thousand Stars. Their cold blooded organism disagrees with the temperatures in space, and there is a heavy distrust towards spaceships, especially singularity powered, after witnessing some of the tragic failures of early wormhole generation. In general, the KseIn who leave their home planet to go to space are loners, thrill seekers or diplomats.

#sci fi story #alien oc #worldbuilding #alien species #space opera #original character art #I need to develop KseIn lore more #as there are no KseIn in the main cast (the Lieutenant doesn't count) I didn't focus on them as much as the others #I want to talk more about worldbuilding but I have a headache and no idea what to say so ask any question you might have #full crew #full cast #imperator crew #ch : nua #ch : emperor #ch : captain #ch : lieutenant #ch : jill #ch : meden #ch : etha #ch : raki #ch : wenn #the artowl #radio isotope

[thelampisaflashlight]

Dew: "Years ago now, Sister Imperator hired some people to follow us around and make a sort of 'a day in the life' style documentary about the Papas and us ghoul, well, some shit went down and the film crew is now stuck in a millennia long contract with the ministry." -pointing at a ghostly camera man- "The only way to keep them from turning into horrific entities is to talk at 'the camera' from time to time to sate their desire for content."

#lamp rambles #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #sister imperator #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #the lore behind the mockumentary style posts #film crew of the damned

[rockatanskette]

Semi-related to my post on how human conservation practices, but I have a cold today, and it's got me thinking about biological altruism—the biological imperative to put other creatures ahead of yourself, to benefit the group.

When talking about possible interactions with other species, we talk a lot about humans being crazy and thrill-seeking and impossible to kill. Never use a warning shot as an incentive to keep humans out of a fight; it'll just make them angry. And that's true. But a valid criticism I've seen in the "Earth is a death world" community is that according to our understanding of evolution, every planet must be some form of death world. Competition fosters evolution—the wolf with sharper claws survives when its litter mates die. You can't reach space travel without some casualties along the way.

But the dog survives because it makes friends with the strange ape carrying a sharp stick. And the strange ape survives because it befriends the wolf. Underneath the death world is an inextricable and undeniable layer of the bond world; the love world; the world, together.

I imagine some worlds are not death worlds. They're peaceful and tranquil. I suspect there are worlds far more deadly than Earth, where the skies rain diamonds, harder than any substance we know with the species to match. And I imagine that they are united in their confusion at the duality of humankind.

Today is a great example: I have a cold, and I want someone to take care of me, but the people who would are immunocompromised, also sick, or live 8 hours away, respectfully. I also want no one within the walls of my apartment or I will eat them. I feel gross, I feel tired, and I don't want a single human being anywhere near me, even if they did bring soup.

In my constant scrolling through my phone today, I decided to look up why the hell I feel so bad—why everyone feels so bad when they're ill. And the answer surprised me. I always thought it was because your immune system is active, so it's using a lot of your energy. That is part of it. Another part is that your brain and body are communicating across the blood-brain barrier to fight the infection, which is rare and energetically expensive.

But that doesn't explain everything, and according to more current research, it could also be what's called the Eyam Hypothesis: that we feel so gross, so we instinctively isolate from other people. We're too tired to deal with others, and so we don't infect them. Misanthropy for the good of the species. Of course, it can also backfire: one of the criticisms of the Eyam Hypothesis is that humans also instinctively care for each other. If my brother has a headache, I drive to the store for Advil.

Personally, I think it's a little bit of both: biological altruism. Either way, the majority live on. The first thought I had this morning when I woke up wasn't "I feel gross" it was "there's no way I'm going to work today." And while that might not be everyone's first thought, you don't even have to be a particularly altruistic person to not want to leave your home or your bed when you're sick. It's inborn.

And so when the human named Ismail comes down with a case of the interstellar common cold, his alien friend Dyos grows very concerned. Ismail is usually intensely social, almost off-puttingly so. Some crew members joke about how his quarters are for sleeping and prayer only; if he's home alone? You should be worried. But when Dyos demands an answer to the severity of Ismail's malady, the other humans just nod knowingly.

"Nah, he's okay, the medics already cleared him. It's not a severe infection."

"But there are so many...fluids. And his body has changed color."

There is a moment of confusion there until they remember that Dyos's species can see in the infrared color spectrum.

"Nah, that's just a low-grade fever. It should break in the next couple days."

"But he doesn’t want to play chess today," Dyos insists.

"Ohhhh," says human Claudia, finally understanding. "No, that's normal. Humans don't like being around other people when they're sick, it's supposed to be one of the major evolutionary advantages. Protect your community from your illness and the genes live on."

"So we're just going to leave him alone?" Dyos is troubled by this. He can go for weeks without speaking to another life form, but he has seen Ismail grow despondent when unable to participate in social gathering.

"Oh, no," human Claudia says, laughing. "We're going to employ one of the other most longstanding human evolutionary advantages."

There are many to choose from and Dyos settles on, "middle age?"

"Sort of," human Claudia opens up a small shipping container and holds up a brown paper bag tied with a colorful ribbon. It glows brightly in Dyos's vision, almost as brightly as human Claudia's smile. "His nanni's hot soup, express delivery."

#i feel like this is the one that's going to get discourse and to that i say: #stop it i no feel good #we can talk about other human responses to disease when my skull goes back to being the right temperature #send good feelings the us postal service won't let my babushka send me soup #anyway #humans are human #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #earth is space australia #earth is a death world #earth is a bond world #lemme know if i forgot any of the main ones

[sanjifucker42069]

Calm Him Down- Sanji x Reader

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: mentions of Sora Vinsmoke. Sanji has a panic attack. First ever hurt/comfort lmao, so there's that. Slight OOC as Sanji kinda breaks down, letting people in without costing an arm and a leg, the stubborn bastard. Reader's gender is not specified, but you do sleep in the women's quarters, which like, look at the gender ratio on the Sunny. There's heaps more room in the women's quarters, makes sense to chuck you there. 

It's up to you how you read their relationship here. In my mind they're close friends pining for each other, but it could easily be read as platonic or established relationship.

------

It was a peaceful day on the Sunny; the seabirds were squawking, the ocean lapped at the boat lazily, and Zoro and Sanji were arguing. Go figure. Your eyebrow twitched, where you say at the kitchen table giving you perfect access to the argument. You don't even remember how it started, probably something banal. Beside you, Chopper was reading a book, fully immersed in its pages. You tried tuning out most of the fight.

"You're lucky I don't come over there and kick the shit out of you. I've had enough of your disgraceful behaviour." Sanji growled.

Zoro regarded the blonde with a sneer. “What shit-cook, you gonna cry to mummy about it?”

CRASH. SLAM. 

You whipped your head to the kitchen, seeing Sanji staring down the swordsman with barely-contained fury. Blood turning to ice, your breath hitched. You’d never seen the sweet cook look so murderous. There was a fire in his eyes that broke your heart, like it was a glimpse to the true man underneath. You swear you could catch a hint of vulnerability, but he was stamping that down, waves of violent palpable pain rolling off him.

“You know nothing about my mother, so shut the fuck up.”

The silence that flooded the room was suffocating. You flinched, physically feeling how all warmth was sucked from the air. Sanji growled, deep and furious.

“Get the fuck out of my kitchen. All of you.”

“Hey, I didn’t me-” Zoro started weakly.

“Sanji.” You breathed.

“Get. out.” The snarl that rewarded you knocked the wind out of you. Wordlessly you collected Chopper, taking him by the hand and helping him out of his seat. The reindeer looked shocked, tears threatening to spill. You rubbed small circles into the fur above his hoof with your thumb. Sparing him one last glance, you grabbed Zoro by the ear with your free hand, dragging the hissing man. If you purposefully pinched hard, then who was to say. Surreptitiously you flicked your eyes to the cook, but Sanji had his back to you, arms bracing the kitchen counter. His hands were clutching the wood in a vice-like grip, none too gentle. You sighed, hauling the two out of the galley. Softly, you let go of Chopper’s hand and pulled the heavy door closed. Your fingers pinched Zoro’s ear hard one last time, before releasing. 

Before the swordsman could open his mouth, you shushed him. “I know. I know, okay, there’s no way any of us could’ve known. Just. Go cool down. It does no good, us being here.”

Zoro’s lips thinned into a blank stare. He muttered out a simple “Yeah,” before turning and leaving the immediate area. With a small nod you crouched down to the small doctor, cradling his little face.

“Hey Chop? It’s okay, okay? He’s gonna be okay. Do you think you could tell the others to stay clear of the kitchen for a while? Maybe you could make something to calm him down?” It was imperative you kept Chopper busy. The cute boy nodded, sniffing back his tears. You ruffled his hat against his head. “There’s our doctor! Thank you sweetheart.”

Once the small reindeer had left you leant against the door, heart breaking. In all your time as a crew, from Merry to Sunny, you had never seen Sanji so upset. Yeah, the man had a temper, but not a severe temper. Sanji could always be calmed down or diverted. It was clear. He was hurt. When you thought about it, you don’t think you’d ever heard Sanji talk about his family. You sat there in silence for a few moments before you heard it.

Tears?

No, fuck that. You don’t care if he banned you all from the kitchen, you weren’t going to let him cry alone. As quiet as you could, you crept back into the galley. Sanji was nowhere to be seen. Impossible. You’d heard him. 

“Sanji?” You asked quietly. 

The silence of the kitchen was unsettling. You weren’t imagining it, there was an almost imperceivable sniffle. The room felt suffocating, hurt and panic strangling the air. You began inspecting the room, making your way to the kitchen island. That’s when you heard it, a small voice, deep and rasping, but trying so hard to not be heard.

“Please go away.”

Oh.

You peered over the kitchen island to find him. Sanji was curled inwards, sitting on the ground. His knees were drawn to his chest, head lowered. He looked utterly defeated, slightly shaking as he held back tears. Before your brain could even process you had rounded the island at a rate of knots, sliding to a crouch. You held your hands out like you were trying not to startle him. Sanji flinched at hearing you, no, feeling you so close.

“I said go away.”

“I’m not leaving you Sanji.” 

“Go. Away.” The mumble that escaped his crying form broke you. 

“You would have to kill me for me to leave. Come here.” Sanji ignored you, his arms cradling his own body. A sigh broke its way out of your chest. He looked so small, like a boy trying hard to be brave. The shaking increased in frequency with your words. You couldn’t let him suffer like this alone. “I’m sorry Sanji, but I’m not leaving.”

The man jumped as if electrocuted when you wrapped your arms around him. You took advantage of his surprise, pulling his head against your chest. Sanji struggled, trying to distance himself, but you latched harder. The push and pull continued for a while, until you heard Sanji sigh shakily. He went limp, allowing you to pull him to you, one hand smoothing his hair, the other clinging to his back.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, just let me be here for you.”

That did it. Sanji grabbed at you, wrapping his hands around your back, crushing you. It was a desperate attempt, clumsy and clawing, clear the man was upset. You grunted quietly at the pressure, trying not to startle him. It was quickly apparent you didn’t have to worry about making a noise, as you felt your shirt become damp with tears, Sanji desperately trying to cry quietly. You knew what Sanji was like. It would scare him off if you acknowledged his tears. All you could do was try comforting him, rubbing his back and kissing his hair.

“She’s dead.”

Your breath hitched. No wonder he reacted the way he did. You tried to not feel furious with Zoro, he didn't know, but the anger was still there. Soft sobs permeated the air, each sound chipping at your heart.

"Oh Ji." You sighed, hugging him even harder. He'd have to suffocate soon with how tight you held him, but you noted how he clung to you, as if he was afraid you'd disappear. Sanji's words were clipped and shaky.

"Died when I was a kid. My fault she died, was too weak."

Shock invaded your senses, a freezing feeling travelling through your veins. You weren't sure what he meant, but you knew in your bones there was no way that was right. Sanji always struck you as a sensitive individual, all the more to cement your belief that he wasn't at fault for whatever he was thinking. "No honey, no, that's not true."

“I miss her.” Sanji’s voice was hoarse.

“I know.” You cooed softly, delicately carding your fingers through his hair. "She must have been an amazing woman if she birthed such a wonderful son."

That was the wrong move. It was like a dam burst. Sanji began crying hard, torn between seeking your comfort and escaping. You felt the tendrils of panic surfacing as you watched him struggle to breathe between sobs. Sanji's heart rate picking up, he began shaking in your arms. You watched horrified as he tried to downplay it and seem unaffected, but you knew better.

"Oh, fuck. Ji? Sanji? I'm so sorry. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault, okay?"

Your attempt failed, and you felt Sanji pull away. Shit. Shit, he was having a panic attack. It shattered your heart as you watched him hyperventilate, unable to calm down. Without thinking you cupped his cheeks, forcing him to stare at you.

"Sanji. Honey. Its going to be okay. Breathe with me, okay? In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Try with me. Good." You coached him through, trying to encourage deeper breaths. Sanji's visible eye was bloodshot and frantic, eye flitting between your facial features. You noted his eye was not focused on anything in particular, he seemed distant. His nose was red, no doubt sore from sniffling. Shaky breaths escaped him, and you tried desperately to seem calm. "Eyes on me. Breathe. You're okay, you're here on the Sunny. We're here. You're doing good baby."

Breathe. 

Breathe with me.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Sanji crumpled against you once his breathing was finally steady. You cradled him, rocking the two of you gently. You were certain Sanji would prefer to just exist in the silence, but you couldn't help the word vomit that escaped.

"You don't have to go through this alone Sanji. You have us, you have Zeff and the Baratie. You have Nami, and Robin, and Luffy. Usopp, Brook, Franky, Chopper. Fuck even Zoro!" You were rambling, tears of your own escaping. "And me. I'll always be here if you feel overwhelmed. You can't get rid of us Sanji. We love you."

"Why?" His voice cracked. "Why waste your time?"

Sanji froze as you tilted his chin up to stare at him. You eyes were serious and vulnerable. "Time spent with you is never wasted. You are capable of being loved, and I'll be damned if I let you think otherwise."

You watched as Sanji stuttered out a shaky sigh.

"Your mum would be proud of you Sanji." Anxious, you continued. Sanji's breath hitched. "I'm sure she'd see the man I see before me; who's kind beyond a fault, who is sweet and sensitive. Who can cook the most mouthwatering dishes, who protects and cares for those around him. You're a good person Sanji. You need to let yourself believe that."

You were rewarded with a teary smile, one not reaching the eyes. Sanji looked tired, dark under eyes and pale skin. With a smile back, you gestured to get up. The quizzical look he gave you warming your heart.

"C'mon. I'll kick the girls out for a couple hours. You look exhausted, come take a nap with me."

"Oh, no I couldn't. I need to finish making dinner, a-and it wouldn't be right for me to-mmph." 

You silenced him with a gentle finger to his lips. "We're mostly adults Ji. One night of subpar food from Usopp's cooking is not going to kill us. Now c'mon."

Sanji let you lead him to the girl's quarters, specifically your bed. He watched where your hand held his, it looked like they were made for each other. In any other circumstance he'd blush and coo over the display, but right now he felt beyond exhausted, a weariness deep in his bones. He weakly protested as you took off his jacket.

"Get comfy. I'll be right back." Your voice was quiet and warm. Sanji wanted to melt. Instead, he nodded and sat down on your bed. In another situation, he might squeal and bury himself in your scent, or be embarrassed at how in charge you were. Instead, he removed his shoes, placing them neatly on the floor near your bed. He sat there awkwardly, eyelids heavy from tiredness and crying. 

The door squeaked back open. 

"Got you some water and some painkillers. I know I always get a wicked headache after I cry." Sanji gratefully took the pills, knocking it back with the full glass. He didn't realise how parched he was. Slipping your shoes off, you crawled behind him, making yourself comfortable. Sanji could see you spread out on the small bed out of the corner of his eyes. He watched you spread your arms out.

Wordlessly the lanky man laid down next to you, shuffling into your warm embrace. Sanji lightly startled when you pulled the blanket over the two of you, before you closed your arms, hugging him gently. The feeling of your hand back in his hair was comforting, so too was the small humming of Binks' Sake, lulling him gently to sleep. Before he could pass out he nuzzled against you.

"Thank you (name)."

"Anytime Sanji. Get some sleep."

And sleep he did, soon drifting off in your arms. Once you made sure he was fully asleep you frowned. Poor man. He really didn't know how precious he was. His soft snores rewarded you, and you felt your own lids get heavy. You couldn't help it, and so, cradling your own treasure, you fell asleep tangled around him.

#sanji x reader #one piece x reader #black leg sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #hurt/comfort #ive bever written hurt/comfort before lmao be gentle #i hAVE SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS MAN #...bruh im actually hella hungry rn #i promise i dont only write whoreknee shit!

[star-rail-updates]

Proposal from Dr. Ratio

Pardon the interruption — you are now speaking with Veritas Ratio.

It has come to my attention that your broadcast today touched on certain warp arrangements in connection with myself. If I may be so bold...

The current arrangements for this Warp are pitiful! Zero points!

The dissemination and sharing of knowledge, as well as truth, is imperative. I, in my esteemed capacity, demand that every trailblazer be given access to a proper education! With lessons delivered by me in person!

I have said my piece. That is all. Farewell.

Project Team's Notes:

Between the start of the Version 1.6 "Panta Rhei" Event Warp and the end of Version 2.1, the Crew will be giving Dr. Ratio (The Hunt: Imaginary) ×1 via Mail to all Trailblazers who have completed the Trailblaze Mission "The Blue — A Moment of Peace" and unlocked the Mailbox function as thanks for your continuous support!

Thanks once again to Dr. Ratio and his proposal!

#star rail updates #honkai star rail #hsr #official #what the hell. okay

[ghulehunknown]

Mistletoe’d: Papa Emeritus III x F Reader

“Papa’s going to be coming down your chimney tonight.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 (coming soon!)

**WARNING - NSFW CONTENT - MDNI**

Summary: After the Ministry Christmas party, you join Terzo in his bedchamber for some festive activities.

CW/Tags: characters drinking alcohol, established relationship, clothed female nude male, blowjob, penetrative sex (P in V), condom use, cunnilingus, face-sitting, face fucking

Word Count: 4381

Available on AO3! Primo | Secondo | Terzo | Copia

Author’s Note: This is the third day of the four-part series XXXmas at the Ministry, a collaboration with @copias-sewer-rat, @molly-ghuleh, and @bupia - please read their works too!

Happy Hornidays! ❄️

xoxo, the Naughty Ghulehs 💋

Primo | Secondo | Copia

A HUGE thank you to AlexandrMcQueer on Twitter for the accompanying artwork! Check out the full NSFW version on her account.

Tonight was finally the night of the annual Ministry Christmas party, and Christmas Eve. Papa needed your help to pull everything off, so all week you were scheduling with the bakers, the cooks, the cleaning crew, and decorating.

But after this evening, you could relax. Well, aside from tending to Papa’s needs and making sure the ghouls didn’t get too soused that it ruined their unholiday in the morning. But after the party, you could enjoy the festivities.

Everyone began milling about and socializing in the main hall, picking at the large charcuterie spread and ladling punch or eggnog into glasses. It looked like everyone from the Clergy was there. Even Imperator and Nihil showed up, though they did not seem too sociable, seating themselves at a table in the corner. Primo immediately sat himself in one of the few chairs scattered around the hall with a large mug of something warm.

Suddenly the ghouls began whooping and you turned your head to see Terzo enter in a lavish looking Santa suit - it was made of crushed red velour with flecks of red sparkles and appeared to be trimmed with white feathers.

“Nice suit, Terzo,” you quipped, eyeing him up and down as he approached you.

“That’s Papa Claus to you, principessa,” he said with a snarky grin and giving you a smooch on the lips. “And you’re Santa’s little helper.”

That you were. He’d ordered you the shortest green elf dress, although the skirt was more like a tulle tutu. The outfit was a whole ensemble, complete with an elf hat with ears, pointy shoes with bells on the end, and candy cane patterned tights. You felt ridiculous, but ’tis the season.

Everyone was in their best holiday attire - anything from ugly Christmas sweaters to formal wear. The ghouls were all dressed in elf costumes, with the exception of Dew, who was dressed as Rudolph - an antler headband fitted over his mask and a red nose strapped to the front of his mask.

Cardinal Copia was wearing an old Saint Nick red and gold cloak over his red cassock, and a poorly made attachable white beard. Secondo was dressed in an all black 3 piece suit that had a subtle fleur de lis pattern, and was chatting with one of Primo’s ghouls.

The night went on, and you were actually managing to have fun. The ghouls turned one of the snack tables into a flip cup station (much to your dismay as you shuffled the catering staff carrying fresh trays of food back into the kitchen) and several of the Siblings started Christmas karaoke, with a very drunk-looking Copia taking the lead.

Terzo flitted between you and the rest of the guests, chatting with various Clergy members (and skillfully dodging Imperator each time). He snuck up behind you, squeezing your ass.

“Make sure these old fucks are having fun, eh?” he said lowly in your ear, nodding backwards to the senior members of the Clergy.

“And just how am I supposed to do that?” you said, one eyebrow raised, his hand still under your skirt.

He winked at you, handing you a bottle of opened bourbon before cupping your ass cheek in his hand and rubbing it. “We’ll cheers soon, then I can have you all to myself.” He leaned in closer to whisper in your ear. “Papa’s going to be coming down your chimney tonight.”

He clapped you on the ass then darted between people again. “Everybody - eggnog!” he shouted towards the crowd, raising his arms up. He was herding everyone to the center. You thought you might die on the spot from your cheeks burning red, but everyone was paying attention to him - thank Satan.

As everyone poured themselves another glass and gathered, you went around and splashed a bit of bourbon in everyone’s cup.

“Some bourbon for your eggnog, Cardinal?” you asked Copia, approaching him with the bottle.

“Eh, none for me,” he said, hiccuping and covering his glass. “It’s strong enough as it is! I’ve had th-three already.”

“It’s nonalcoholic, Cardinal,” you responded, blinking at him. He looked puzzled and walked away.

You made your way over to Primo who was almost snoozing in his chair. “Papa Primo?” you asked, holding the bottle out, gesturing towards his half empty mug. You weren’t sure if he was dressed like Scrooge on purpose or if those were just his pajamas but he mumbled something that sounded like “Bah,” and shook his head swiftly, the tassel at the end of his nightcap swinging around.

Everyone was standing in a semicircle around Terzo, who for once seemed just slightly lost for words. “Well, uh - shit,” he began, eliciting a few chuckles from the crowd. “I do not know what else to say, other than it’s been a fucking great year. We had two fantastic tours, and we’ll be continuing into next year… I, eh - met someone very dear.” He glanced at you briefly before continuing. “We won a motherfucking Grammy…!”

The ghouls whooped and cheered while the Siblings and other Clergy members clapped. You glanced over in the corner. Even Imperator seemed pleased - maybe.

“Sì, sì it has been phenomenal. You should all be very pleased with yourselves. So pleased in fact I think you should all celebrate, in eh, whatever means you choose to do. And if I do not see you all before the New Year, have an unblessed holiday. Now, we toast! Tomorrow morning we will celebrate our Savior’s birth. But for tonight, we sin.” He held up his glass and the others did the same. “To Lucifer!”

“To Lucifer,” you said, chiming in with a chorus of voices. You swallowed your bourbon-eggnog concoction - mostly bourbon by your heavy hand, you found as you winced slightly, the liquor burning down your throat. You didn’t drink much and this was your first holiday gathering at the Ministry. Next month would mark your first full year here, and the first time you laid eyes upon him - your Terzo.

“Eh, see you next year, Papa!” piped up Copia, still hiccuping as he nodded and ducked out of the crowd. You smiled at the Cardinal’s little joke. Terzo stopped in his tracks for just a moment and acknowledged Copia before walking away.

He rolled his eyes as he walked towards you then his face brightened. “Hello,” he said, standing very close to you.

“Hi, Papa,” you said, smiling at him and holding up the last bit of bourbon, swishing it in the bottle. “Saved the last for you.”

“Mmm,” he said, leaning in to kiss you. “How much? I need to keep my stamina for later.”

You took a swig and shuddered - Satanas, you still couldn’t drink straight liquor. “Not much now.” He chuckled at you and took the bottle from your hand, knocking back the rest. You coughed a couple of times and reached for some party punch, completely forgetting the one you reached for also had alcohol and coughed again.

He patted you soothingly on the back and asked, “Are you okay, tesorina?”

You nodded, finally grabbing the nonalcoholic punch and chugging some.

“Will Papa have to take care of his little elf this evening?” he said, trailing the back of his index finger over your cheek.

“No, Papa,” you said, clearing your throat. “I’ve barely had anything.”

“Good. I have a surprise for you tonight, amore.”

“Hm. Any hint?” you asked coyly.

“Not a fucking clue. Come to my room in five minutes just as you are.” He picked up a handful of hard candies from the snack table and popped a few in his mouth, staring at you while walking backwards a few paces before turning around and heading down the hall.

You continued to mingle with the other Siblings, trying hard to conceal your blushing cheeks but to no avail.

“Someone’s excited about something,” one said.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured.

“Come on - spill!”

“Well, Terzo and I -”

“Terzo?” said another.

“Oooooh!” the others said in a singsong tone almost in unison.

“He said he has a surprise for me, in his room.”

“So you graduated from office visits to home visits now?” asked the first Sibling, looking impressed.

“Well…I’ve seen his bedroom a few times,” you said, not willing to divulge the full truth just yet. You’d been spending most of your nights in his room and sneaking back into the Siblings’ quarters early in the morning. Even though each Sibling had their own room, you knew your Sisters would hear the door to the suite open.

“I think this is the most serious he’s been with anyone,” said the second Sibling. “I’ve been here a few years and usually he’s done with his fling after two months. But you’ve stuck around.” You shook your head, not willing to believe this hype only to be let down. You just wanted to live in the moment and enjoy what you had with Terzo. “You should go - you don’t want to keep him waiting.”

You smiled and bid your fellow Siblings goodbye as they all made lewd gestures to imitate various sex acts and waved you off, wishing you luck.

You walked down the silent and dark corridors, passing ghouls and Siblings alike shrouded in the shadows to have their midnight dalliances, no doubt egged on by the holiday cheer and the alcohol. You smiled, thinking about not having to hide in a hallway like when you first started dating him. Now you had his entire bedroom to have your sultry romps.

You opened his door and walked into his Papal suite, the familiar lush decor and smell of mahogany filling your senses. You passed by the small and elegantly decorated Christmas tree by the fireplace. You wondered just what his surprise might be when you saw him propped up against the wall, a rose in his mouth and —

What was that?

He was dressed in his Santa jacket and hat, with nothing else on - save one thing. Your eyes trailed along his upper body then snapped to what was in between his legs. On the end of his throbbing hard cock was some mistletoe, tied around his shaft by a red ribbon and a little gold bell below it. He waggled his eyebrows and at the same time isolated his pelvic muscles to make his cock bob up and down, tinkling the bell.

“How long have you just been standing there all hard waiting for me?”

His face fell momentarily and he took the rose out of his mouth. “I thought you would like it.”

“I do!” you said, suppressing laughter as best as you could while stepping towards him. You held onto the lapels of his jacket and leaned in. “I do.” He smiled again, a smug look of satisfaction washing over him.

“Good,” he said, handing you the rose. “Because you’re going to get stuffed and glazed just like Secondo’s honey ham.”

You bit your bottom lip, smiling. “But I don’t think it’ll be quite as delicious as you, amore.”

“It should be. I’ve been eating a lot of pineapple for this.”

“Really? Then I’ll have to taste it for myself,” you said, feeling the heat pool at your core.

He cupped your face in his hands, kissing you deeply, slipping his tongue in. You weren’t sure where to place your hands so you held onto the rose with one hand, the other in his hair. He swiftly brought you closer to him, his quivering cock poking at your thigh under your tulle skirt.

“Mm!” you said, surprised at feeling his hardness brush against you.

“Well,” he said, pulling away to look at you. “It’s not going to kiss itself, tesoro.” He twitched his cock again, making it bob up and down and wagged his hips side to side, making it shake the other direction and sounding the bell.

You eyed him slyly as you bent down, gently falling to your knees before him and placing the rose on the floor. You took his cock in your hand and began stroking his length, eyeing the perfect pink tip at the end. Each time you stroked him, the bell would chime.

“Oh cazzo,” he sighed, leaning his head back, his lips parted.

You flicked the tip of your tongue against the head of his cock and watched his abdominal muscles contract. He was like putty in your hands.

“You like that, amore?” you asked teasingly, his shaft in your palm.

He glared at you from the corner of his eye. “Stai zitto,” he said through moans as you continued to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. But you could swear you saw a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth as he said this.

You closed your eyes as you took his entire length in your mouth, sliding him in and out and clutching onto his hips. The little leaves on the mistletoe tickled your nose each time the bottom of his cock reached your lips.

Clink! Clink! went the bell each time you slid him in and out of your mouth.

He started to whimper and moan quietly, his eyes closed in pleasure. His hand was on the back of your head, gripping your hair tighter the faster you went. At one point he began thrusting into your mouth, probably no longer able to contain himself.

Clink! Clink! ClinkClinkClinkClinkCLINKCLINK

“Mmm!” you mumbled around his cock as the greenery around his member assaulted your face over and over, scratching your nose and cheeks a little bit each time. CLINK.

Your eyes welled with tears as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly. CLINK. At this point you were hardly doing any work, just kneeling there and being used as a vessel. CLINKCLINK

“Satanas you’re going to make me cum like that,” he panted as he continued pushing his hips into your face.

You smiled around him - well as best as you could - and brought him closer by gripping his ass cheeks.

“Ah - cazzo!” he exclaimed, suddenly pulling out of your mouth and panting.

“Terzo?” you asked, trying to look up but you were unable to as his hand remained on your head as he used you to prop himself up and regain composure.

“I can’t cum too soon and ruin the evening, no?” he said, standing up straight and helping you up off the floor. “Not when I haven’t even taken care of you.”

You kissed his laughter lines around his mouth as he spoke, his Papal makeup smudged from your kisses earlier. “You always take such good care of me.”

He turned to face you and held you in an embrace, kissing you passionately again, his hands roaming all over your body. He began to massage your breasts through your costume, building the arousal between your legs even more. Your breathing quickened as you both moaned into each other’s mouths.

“Fuck this fucking blouse,” he said breathlessly, breaking away and tearing at the front of your green cardigan, the buttons flying across his floor - eliciting a ‘Shit!’ from you. “Mmm!” he mumbled, kissing you again, pawing at your chest.

He fumbled around your back at your bra clasp, unhooking it after a couple of tries. You urgently slid the straps off your shoulders and tossed the bra to the floor. He bent down to take your nipple in his mouth, circling his tongue around it and sucking. He alternated, pinching the other one between his fingers.

“Oh Terzo,” you sighed, running your hands through his hair, fiddling with the silver strands peppering his raven hair. He’d never admit to it, but you saw the box dye left on his bathroom counter.

Instinctively you squeezed your legs together, alleviating some of the need to touch yourself. You felt your heart race and a shiver run down your spine.

“Fuck me, please Papa,” you sighed, breath trembling.

“Mm?” he said, glancing up at you between your breasts with a glint in his eyes. He kissed all over your chest, up your neck and finally, your lips. “Is la mia principessa ready for her Papa to fuck her brains out, hm?”

“Yes Papa, please,” you said, still in a breathy whisper. “Fuck me.”

He nodded his head towards the bathroom and glanced over. “Go get a condom and meet me in bed. I’ll get the lube.”

“Why are there none in our nightstand drawer?”

“‘Our?’”

“Shit. You know what I meant.”

He grinned. “Ti stai dimenticando? We used them all last night and I didn’t have time to take some more out.”

Slightly embarrassed at your gaffe, you made your way into the bathroom and started opening drawers. “Where did you put the box?”

“Bottom drawer!” he called out.

Did he think differently of you now? Would he think you were too presumptuous and want to call the whole thing off? Or potentially, were you just overthinking things as usual? “Found it! Oh fuck, shit!”

“Sorella?” He sounded concerned and rushed over to find you on your hands and knees kneeling near the toilet.

“Almost got it!” You had dropped the roll of condom wrappers behind the toilet and had wedged yourself between it and the vanity. “Help me, Terzo!”

“Ah, I see now,” he said slyly. “Call for me in a panic just so you can entrap me.”

“What? Terzo, no, I really do need help, I drop- ”

“Sì, I can help,” he said, kneeling down behind you, his cock right up against your ass.

“It’s just, argh!”

“Argh!” he imitated you, running his hands all along your body.

“It’s right there I can’t - reach - !”

“Has anyone told you how sexy you look with your ass in the air in candy cane tights?”

You rolled your eyes but you knew he couldn’t see. “Er, no - um, thank you. But I dropped the condoms behind the toilet.”

He craned his neck to see. “Ah. This is quite the pickle we are in. You with your hand behind the toilet and your ass against my cock.”

“No, I believe it’s your cock against my ass.”

“What am I to do, tesorina? What should a Papa do when finding his lover in a compromising position, hm?” He leaned down and trailed kisses along your back, momentarily freezing your arm from the continued search of the condoms.

“Fuck…” you whispered, feeling his mouth move further south and his hands finding their way around your waist.

“What’s that, bella? You think Papa should fuck you? You called me in such a panic earlier that I did not bring the lube…mmm, what should we do?” he said, kissing you just above your ass. “Is la mia principessa ready?”

Your body ached with desire. You needed him inside you. He trailed his finger along your tights-covered behind, poking around where your entrance was. “Darling, I think your tights are just a little wet. Let’s see just how wet you are inside.” He gripped the fabric and you heard it ripping apart.

You let out a surprised gasp as the chill air hit your warm, now exposed nether regions. He entered you with a finger and your body shuddered against him as you whimpered quietly.

“Oh yes,” he said in an amused tone. “You are very ready.” He slid out and up to your clit, playing with it gently as you moaned and rocked your body back and forth to feel the friction against his fingers. “So responsive. Una così brava ragazza.”

“Please, Papa,” you said under your accelerated breath. “Please fuck me.”

“Don’t worry amore,” he said, reaching over you and grabbing the sleeve of condoms that you were having trouble getting just moments before. “I will.” He tore off one and ripped it open.

You readjusted yourself on the tile floor so you wouldn’t bang your head against the toilet or the side of the vanity as you heard the crinkle of the wrapper and the clinking of the little bell still attached to his dick.

“Oh FUCK!” you both said in unison as he entered you. He slammed into your dripping cunt with such ease, you felt him bottom out immediately. The tingle of the mistletoe against your clit heightened the sensation.

Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink! In and out, in and out. You both moaned each other’s names in pure, unadulterated passion.

“Ah - merda Sorella, you turn me into a teenager again. Fucking on the floor out of sheer desperation for one another.” Now he was so deep inside you the bell muffled against your body. CLUNK. CLUNK. CLUNK.

“So - mmm! - you’re d-desperate for me?” you said teasingly against the cold tile.

“La mia diavoletta pensa di essere così intelligente, eh? È ora che chiudi la bocca.” With that he fucked into you so hard, so fast, you couldn’t say another word. He pushed your head against the floor roughly, your cheek pressed against the cool marble so hard you could feel the grout indent. He nearly knocked the breath out of you as he hit your g-spot perfectly each time, a relentless grip on the back of your head.

“Ohhh - !” you moaned as he rammed into you over and over. CLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNK. He was thrusting faster, riding out his orgasm, his nails digging deeper into your hips.

“Fuck - I’m going to - cum - Sorella - !” He pounded into you, tapering off his speed as he came, his cock twitching a final time before he slumped over your back, breathing heavily.

“Satanas,” he breathed, his chest heaving wildly as he pulled out, your body shuddering under him at the loss. You heard the snap of latex and the condom hitting the trash can liner.

You turned around and sat down, leaning against the toilet. You watched him untie the mistletoe and take it off, tossing it aside. “So how was it, with that?” you asked, nodding towards the discarded plant.

“Honestly? It was a little itchy. It might just be a novelty.” He tossed himself on his back against the floor. He looked at you, his chest still rising and falling from being out of breath. “How was it for you?”

“Honestly? It was a little itchy,” you repeated. You both smiled and laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“Come here Sorella, I did not intend to leave you wanting. Hop onto Santa’s lap.”

You crawled over to him and straddled his lap, gazing into his eyes.

“What do you want this year for being such a good little girl?” He asked, caressing your arms and looking at your breasts before flicking his eyes up into yours.

“I want…endless kisses…and a mind-blowing orgasm,” you said, leaning down to kiss him.

He returned the smooch. “Mm, I did not know a present for you would also be a present for me. Come closer and sit on Santa’s face…that’s it, Satanas yes please.”

You moved up his body until you were straddling his face, then delicately lowered your body on him, doing your best to move your skirt out of the way.

He sputtered, spitting out the tulle from his mouth and pulling your hips towards his face again. He batted at the layers of fabric, cursing in Italian, before finding your cunt.

Your eyelids flitted closed as your lips parted in a silent “oh.” He took your clit in his mouth and sucked on it between his lips. He alternated between that and flicking your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. You looked down to gaze in his eyes but his face was completely hidden under a green tutu.

You began to buck your hips against his face as he used the flat of his tongue, building up the friction and feeling yourself closing in on orgasm. He switched up and deepened the suction on your clit, flicking his tongue against you simultaneously.

“Oh fuck Terzo - fuck, I’m so close!” You rocked back and forth as you pinched your nipples, heightening the sensation.

His fingernails dug into your hips again as he sped up his ministrations. Grabbing ahold of your waist, he slid you along his mouth faster and faster.

“Oh, Terzo!” you cried out in ecstasy, trembling on your knees above him as you came hard and fast in his mouth. He didn’t let up the motions or the intensity until you pulled away, giggling from the overstimulation. You climbed off of him and sat down next to him, both smiling at one another.

“How are you feeling? Good?” he asked, stroking your thigh.

You nodded your head. “Yes, very. But can I lay down next time? I’ve been on my knees an awful long time.” You both laughed.

“There’s Papa’s little hoe hoe hoe,” he said with a devilish grin. “Of course, amore mio. Anything for you.”

You held onto his hand, playfully caressing all his fingers. “It’s been a very good Christmas so far,” you remarked.

“Mmm. And you haven’t even opened your presents yet.”

“There’s more?”

“What, you thought this was it? No Sorella, go look under the tree.”

You eyed him suspiciously as you stood up, legs still a little shaky. You walked out of the bathroom and into the living room.

You hadn’t noticed the presents under the tree earlier, but there were a few. A lot, actually. Somehow even your gifts for him were under there. One of the ghouls or housekeeping staff must have moved them for you.

One caught your attention - a gold envelope poking out from the middle branches of the tree. You reached inside the tree, accidentally sending the package spilling onto the floor. Two plane tickets splayed out on the floor.

You picked them up in wonder - your name was at the top of one, and his on the other. You walked in a daze over to him.

“You did not truly think I would leave you with just my cock for Christmas, did you?” he said, following you out of the bathroom and now leaning against the wall. “I love you, principessa. I call you princess because to me you are. My sweet little thing. I want to give you the world, my world…would Italy be a good start?”

You flung your arms around him, tears in your eyes. “Yes, Terzo. I think that will be an amazing start.”

[Stay tuned for a continuation of this story!]

Italian to English Translations

(la mia) principessa ((my) princess)

tesorina (little treasure/darling)

amore (mio) ((my) love)

cazzo (fuck)

Stai zitto (Shut up)

Ti stai dimenticando? (Are you forgetting?)

Sorella (Sister/nun)

bella (beautiful)

Una così brava ragazza. (Such a good girl.)

merda (shit)

La mia diavoletta pensa di essere così intelligente, eh? È ora che chiudi la bocca. (My little devil girl thinks she’s so smart, eh? It’s time you shut your mouth.)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future works!

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band smut #terzo #terzo fanfiction #terzo x reader #papa terzo x reader #terzhoe #terzo smut #ghost band fanfiction #HappyHornidays #XXXmasAtTheMinistry #the band ghost fanfiction #Ghostmas #MerryGhostmas #MerryGhostmas2023 #holiday smut #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo my beloved #terzo fanart #papa emeritus smut

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 24: Where to Go From Here

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1k

He didn’t wake up the next morning. Or the next. Or the next. 

But you kept your faith in him. You sat with him all day, only leaving to get checkups done by Law. 

You told him about the changes and updates, about life with a crew that didn’t belong to you. Law knew the gender of your baby, but you refused to find out until Ace was awake, and you reminded Ace of that every chance you got. You talked about the food you ate, and the journey you went on by yourself to rescue him at Marineford. 

You also went to visit Luffy for a bit each day, talking to him and theorizing out loud about where his crew was and what they were doing. You told him about the baby, and how he was going to be an uncle, and how he definitely could not use his rubber powers to make your baby fly into the air. Though you doubted he would listen to you. If he ever woke up. 

Every day Shachi, Ikkaku, or Penguin brought you meals so you could eat with Ace. Law moved your room closer to the brothers so you could sleep in your own bed, but it was pointless. You slept in the chair by Ace’s side every night, even though Law scolded you every morning. 

Jinbe sat outside of the room, guarding you and the brothers fiercely. You weren’t actually sure where his loyalty was between the three of you, but you were grateful for his presence regardless. 

On the third evening, Law moved a cot into Ace’s room, demanding you actually sleep on a bed. 

“It’s bad for the baby for you to sleep slumped like that,” he said, and you finally took his advice, though you pulled the bed next to Ace’s so you could be close to him. 

On the fourth day, Law came and told you he had found the Whitebeard Pirates. They had been searching for you, Marco specifically. He handed you a transponder snail to make the call, but you pushed it away. You didn’t want to call unless you had good news. You weren’t ready to face the reality that waited for you outside of this steel ship. The reality of your father being gone. The unknown future of your family. 

Who had lived? Who had died? You had no idea of the casualties. You weren’t exactly eager to find out, though. Law forbid you from reading the News Coo, afraid that any upsetting emotions would cause negative impacts on the baby. It was imperative that you didn’t go through any more distressing occasions. Your pregnancy was already a high enough risk right now. 

You didn’t fight him on that. You didn’t fight him on anything. You only spoke to Ace, trying to will him back to life. 

You didn’t talk about what would happen if the brothers didn’t wake up. In your mind, that wasn’t even an option. They survived Marineford, so they would make it through this. 

You laid down in the cot next to Ace’s bed that night, reaching up and intertwining your fingers with his. 

“If you don’t wake up tomorrow, I’m finding out the gender of our baby without you,” you threatened. Maybe all Ace needed was some motivation to wake up. Hopefully a gender reveal was enough of a motivator. Even if it was an empty threat. You wouldn’t move forward without him. You couldn’t. 

“We could disappear, you know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “Live on a small island where nobody knows our past. Start over. Be those boring island people we always made fun of.” You squeezed your eyes tighter, trying to ignore the tears pooling behind your eyes. 

“All you have to do is wake up, Ace. And we can be whoever we want to be. Go wherever we want to go. Just wake up.”

The dreams were the same as always. That stupid island that had grown strangely comforting. Ace and your child playing in the field. 

Nothing bad happened here. Not anymore. The nightmares you once had became hopeful dreams of the future. 

The next morning, you woke to dark, warm eyes staring back at you; your favorite freckled smile gracing your sight. 

You let out a sob, and your hand flew to your mouth to stifle it. 

“S’okay,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and groggy. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Am I dreaming?” you cried, not even bothering to hide your tears. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“You’re not,” he whispered. “I’d pinch you if I could move any.”

You cried harder, overwhelmed with the fact that Ace was awake. He was here. He had chosen to live. He had chosen you.

“Are you hurt?” he whispered, his eyes moving up and down your body. 

You shook your head. You couldn’t speak, sobs overtaking your body. You hadn’t given up hope but…this was a miracle. He was here. He was okay. 

“Hey-” Ace reached out for you and then let out a low groan that was full of pain. 

The door opened, Law entering. “Y/N-ya, time for your-” he stopped, processing the situation unfolding before him. 

“You’re awake.” He was trying hard to keep the surprise out of his voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I took a bath in a lava pool,” Ace moaned, wincing as he shifted in his bed. 

“You’re not far from the truth,” Law responded. He looked at you. “I suppose you can contact your crew whenever you’d like. I’m sure you’re eager to get back to them.”

You gave a nod, your eyes still fixated on Ace, drinking in the fact that he was in front of you. Awake. 

“Wait-” Ace gave a quick cough, trying to clear his throat. You could feel his grip tighten around your fingers. “What’s the gender?”

You almost laughed at his question. He had heard your threat, even in a coma. 

“Oh.” Law scratched his head, suddenly looking very awkward. “Congratulations. It’s a boy.”

--

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[whiskeyswifty]

Taylors so sweet. Most millionaires are greedy af and there she is donating insane amounts of money to her employees. Queen!

While I agree totally that she's doing an amazing thing, i want to very gently remind you that she's not donating anything or being sweet. But rather perhaps consider these people are her employees and she's properly compensating them for their their integral roles in earning her those millions of dollars in the first place, with months of grueling work that they’ve performed exceptionally and deserve said financial compensation for with a bonus, not a donation. Remember that she cannot earn that much money alone, it quite literally takes a large village of people to put on a show of this magnitude and put millions of dollars in her pocket, and she clearly values every single person who worked to make it happen, emphasis on WORK. Every single person who works on a show like this is a gig worker, and crew members make shockingly little for a gig like this, even when paid the industry standard. They often don't know when or where their next job will be, and live life from job to job. I gently urge you to see Taylor's bonuses, which is what you should call them not donations, as a recognition of their hard and exceptional work, which is what a bonus is for, and her simply wanting to fairly share the profits with them more equally and proportionately, which is fantastic to see and how it should be!! She is providing a model for workers to see that their bosses, especially in Taylor's industry at her level of success, can afford to pay more livable wages and bonuses and if they can, it should be industry standard that they should.

I also gently urge you to consider that paying workers their fair share of an extremely successful profit margin should not be considered a form of charity but rather just fair compensation. I agree that most millionaires, and billionaires really, are greedy yes, but not because they're not "generous" or "sweet" like Taylor. It's because they're unfairly and improperly compensating their workers for the labor it takes to earn that profit, paying them far too little. Paying your workers has nothing to do with generosity, it's simply fair compensation for their work. Taylor in comparison is not "generous" or "sweet" either but simply a fair and respectful manager and CEO who values her employees as people and values their work financially, which is FARRR more important than being "sweet" or "generous" from time to time. Instead, you should commend her for her exemplary leadership in this decision and I think it's a fantastic standard that we should hold ALL CEOs to for how they should treat their employees.

It's important that you understand that it's never charity when paying an employee for their labor, whether it's a raise or a bonus or any financial compensation. By your line of thinking, we are to rely on the benevolence of billionaires. Given that their inherent greed is what got them there in the first place, we would be truly doomed. I’m absolutely beaming with pride for her and to be associated with her because she stands for this kind of proper compensation, but that’s because of a managerial standard she holds herself to. Which is fairness, not kindness, and as we continue to fight across the country for more fair wages, it's imperative that you understand the difference.

#i hope this was as gentle as possible and not preachy #but this ask was so misguided i couldn't just not say something to try and help anon understand better #i mean all of this with love and respect and i hope this situation in general helps you gain a broader understanding of fair pay!! #i'm soooooo so so proud of her but lets make sure we're praising her for the RIGHT REASONS!

[sink-me-in-your-ocean]

Just a Quick(ie) Change

Papa Copia x gn!Reader smut

WC: 3100

A/N: I think I blacked out when I wrote this at 2am. This one is for @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus - thank you for spamming me with pics of Copia’s amazing thighs.

Content warnings: oral sex m!receiving. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

NSFW below the cut.

Hired as a quick-change assistant, you didn’t expect much from the job backstage for Papa Emeritus IV.

You never expected, one, that you’d actually enjoy your job, and two, that the two other assistants would quit right before a tour. 

It was much too close to the start of the ritual tour to hire someone on the spot. Sister Imperator always had the last word, and since the clergy was thousands of miles away from her at the moment, it was an inopportune time to be short-staffed. Papa required many, many intricate costume changes during rituals. Usually, these changes required at least six additional hands, but at least for the next several shows you’d have to make do with just your two.

It was down to you and him when he’d come backstage. Sometimes another member of the crew would bring him refreshments while the nameless ghouls stalled on stage, riffing and whatnot, but mostly it was just the two of you. This led to witty banter, goofy little mishaps, and the like. Some accidents even led to flirtatious jokes between you two as you quickly warmed to each other.

Papa rushed offstage, clutching the front of his trousers. Holding back a laugh, you couldn’t resist asking, “Are your pants falling off or are you just eager to see me?”

He put his hand to his heart, exclaiming a word in Italian before inhaling in a dramatic gasp. “My button popped off.”

You knew his button came off while he was performing - you had a small live monitor in your closet - coloring you thoroughly impressed by the movements of his hips. You had the cheesy line and a needle, thread, and replacement for the offending button prepared as soon as you saw it happen. 

The laugh you shared together wasn’t the first, and certainly would not be the last of the evening. You couldn’t place why it brought you so much joy to just make him smile in between sets. It was a moment of complete and utter glee in the midst of the madness that went into each ritual.

Zippers got caught, shoes were left untied, robes were wrinkled, the whole nine. It was like Murphy’s Law backstage sometimes… anything that could go wrong, would go wrong. 

On the second night of your solo adventure, in the middle of a particularly intricate change involving his Dracopia bat wings, Papa said something to you that would keep your mind stirring the entire night. He was on a high from the opening of the show, beaming at you from the moment he saw you, but this… this was different.

“I enjoy our time together, you know.”

“What?” Your focus was on the second, most stubborn, buckle as you stood in front of him. The harness couldn’t lace itself up so you kept working, your fingers nimbly adjusting as he kept speaking.

“Well, it’s just that I’m used to so many people poking and prodding me, shoving me this way and that, just going through the motions.” He paused, tilting his head to listen for his cue coming up before he continued, “But with you this is different, I feel like I’m actually getting a break instead of just being rushed around like a…how do they say... chicken with its head cut off.”

You finished the last buckle, securing it in place and patting his arm as you were utterly lost for words. His sentiment cut through you like a blade, but was as soft as a feather pillow. 

He turned on his heel as he walked away, but paused and looked over his shoulder, winking at you before walking back on stage. The crowd of devotees screamed and you stood alone in the dark, accompanied only by the mass of butterflies in your stomach. 

The rest of the night went by as usual, but somehow smoother than expected. The stolen glances between you and Papa were more heated, and held more weight than before. Neither one of you crossed that threshold that night though; You refused to be the first one to take this - whatever this is - to the next level.

The next show you were alone, yet once more. Sister Imperator unsurprisingly didn’t like any of the candidates that had applied for the position, not deeming them ‘good enough’ to work with Copia. She never called him Papa, you noticed. 

Sister was doing her best to assuage you while simultaneously making your head hurt. She was always kind to you for some unknown reason, but tonight she was truly laying it on thick, “… but you, my dear, are a diamond in the rough. You’ll have to shine on your own just a little longer.”

The video call glitched, her word’s temporarily interrupted by a bad connection as she said something else.

“I’m sorry, would you repeat that? It sounded like you said it’s just going to be me for the rest of the week.”

“Oh no, I didn’t say that.” The video finally stabilized. You sighed in relief before she continued. “I said you’ll be on your own for the rest of the tour.”

Your face fell. It felt like a two-ton weight was placed on your chest, or that you were shoved in a truck, locked in, and the key was thrown away. 

No help? Seriously?

She noted your facial expression before you could reel yourself in. “Don’t worry my dear, we will compensate you more for the lack of help you have, but at least I know that my - cough - er, the Cardinal, will be happy in your capable hands.”

You tried to hide your dismay, “O-Kay.”

“I’ve got to run off now little one, try to make the best out of it, alright?”

“I promise, Sister, thank you.”

You sighed again, to no one this time and not out of relief. To be on your own the rest of the tour seemed, in practice, too much. You had only done two shows solo and the limited sanity you had was already wearing thin. Suddenly, you had a strange thought that warmed your body: if you’re the only one then that means more time for you and Papa to get to know each other. 

Your traitorous heart gave a squeeze. More time alone with him couldn’t possibly be a bad thing… could it?

Perhaps? Perhaps not. But you could certainly think of many, many bad things to do.

One week later 

Your heart was pounding as you did your final checks. Everything tonight was going to run perfectly. 

The first change went to plan, then the next. Every second that passed with the two of you in each other's vicinity felt like an eternity. Your own personal hell of stolen glances and small comments. Of shallow breaths and lingering touches. 

“Is this new?” He nodded to your night-black long-sleeved dress. All-black was the dress code for backstage crew so tonight you’d opted for a racy mini dress and long black stockings to cover your legs up to the thigh. Only a salacious inch of skin showed between the garments, and Papa couldn’t resist peeking. 

Flattered that he noticed, you blushed, “Yes, it is.” You straightened his robes, ensuring the easily-wrinkled fabric lay perfectly in its place. 

“I’d like to see it off you later.” He reached with one gloved hand and ran two fingers along the visible skin of your thigh, making you tremble with want. It felt like the little room turned into a furnace, just from that.

Quick as a flash he grabbed his prop from your open palm before you could react and darted back out to the stage, leaving you in shock with the realization that he wants you just as badly as you want him. 

You pace back and forth, setting everything out for the next change. At one point the stage manager pops in, asks you if you need anything and you assure them that you’re good. 

There’s only one person who can give you what you need.

As soon as the cue hits for him to exit your palms tingle in anticipation. Your eyes lit up as you saw him, stripping him out of the floor-length robe immediately to get started on the next change. But Papa had other ideas.

His gloved hands grabbed you firmly, one on your jaw and the other at your waist to pull you into a deep and sensuous kiss. You felt the electricity between you buzz from your lips down to your toes. Your body responded before you truly realized what was happening, and you kissed him back with equivalent enthusiasm. 

He growled as you parted your lips to dart your tongue out, grazing his teeth once before going back on the next kiss to taste his tongue. You moaned, greedily, taking in a deep breath through your nose to inhale his bouquet of fragrant cologne and hair products. It felt like the two of you were kissing with the need of long-lost lovers, reunited after a decade of time. He grabbed and groped at your body, pulling you closer as though he never wanted to let you go.

You did your best not to be too handsy with him in return, as you didn’t want to fuck up his costume.

Fuck! His costume!

The head-spinning thrill of the kiss made him miss his cue to go back on stage, both of you too caught up in the passion of the moment to feel the world around you. You broke the kiss and violently threw items at him to put on. Luckily this change was one of the easier ones, but it never looked good for Papa to delay his return to the stage.

The stage manager came in again, “Everything alright in there?”

“Yes! Just a stubborn zipper again!” You laughed breathily to cover up your anxious flitting about while Papa stayed silent. 

“Alright, well, hurry it along, the ghouls are going to start eating each other out there if not.” They sounded less than pleased before cutting back out of the tiny room.

“Heard.” You replied curtly, not in the mood to have your moment ruined any further. 

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a dickhead,” your breath caught in your chest. Did he regret the kiss? “You have a little, er, smudge.” He motioned towards his lip.

You looked in the mirror beside you, hells below, he was right! You had black makeup from him smudged all over. 

He giggled his way back out, leaving you furiously rubbing at your lips and chin, your face fully flushed with embarrassment.

By the next quick change, you two had a pattern working perfectly. 

First, change out of the previous costume.

Second, put the next one on.

Third, and most importantly, spend any and all remaining seconds kissing each other like giddy teenagers.

You both became a desperate mess of hands, lips, and teeth. You even picked up a few new tricks: one of which being that you could tie his tie exceedingly well while he had his tongue in your mouth. You got a little too handsy now, stroking him through his pants as his hands gripped your rear. Feeling him growing with every motion was spurring you on, making you almost delirious with need.

“I’ll see you shortly.” He exhaled heavily, palming the front of his pants to adjust the placement of his dick. It was adorable how he was going to go out there like this, pantomiming that nothing had transpired, but you were fine with it, it was a little game.

“I’ll be waiting.” You called after him.

The longest break in the show was up next, and you already knew what to do. You were on your knees before he finished the song, his cue to move backstage for his change came and when he saw you he stopped in his tracks. 

“Don’t just stand there now, come over here and let me taste you.” Your bold words seemed to almost miss him, as he looked to be in a trance. He soon snapped out of it, taking a few steps to you and closing the distance. 

He stroked your hair, “You don’t have to do this right now, we can wait until later.”

His suggestion was tempting but unnecessary, you were committed to this. “I gave you a problem, and I want to take care of it for you. May I?” You pleaded up at him and his mouth dropped open.

“Yes. Fuck, please.”

With his explicit permission you went to work. It was well-known that Papa went commando on stage. However, this didn’t make it any less difficult for you to peel the “rat-eaten” black pants off of him. His sweat combined with the stiff, unforgiving tightness of the trousers and made it quite difficult for you to wrench him from the tight fabric. 

You wrestled the fabric down, exposing the very tops of his delicious thighs and in the middle, his magnificent thick cock sprung forth. Your mouth watered at the sight, so long and hard, how you wanted - no - needed to taste him. 

You wet your lips, looking up at him and not wanting to waste any more time as you pressed your tongue lightly to the underside of the hot tip. You flicked your tongue to the very end, where a bead of pre-cum was leaking out. 

Tasting him stirred something within you that made your insides clench. You wanted so much more than just to give him a sloppy blow job in the stage right closet at a ritual. But this would have to do for now. 

The salt of his sweat on your tongue was like a drug to you, and you needed more of everything. You impaled yourself on his length, gagging obscenely as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. 

He groaned as you sucked at him, your tongue working to massage the underside of his shaft. You bobbed your head back and forth, one of your hands coming up to follow the motion of your mouth. It slid back and forth easily, the copious amount of spit already coating his length made for ideal lubrication.

Your other hand steadied yourself by gripping his exposed thigh, squeezing the flesh lightly, your fingertips satisfied just by touching his bare skin. You felt your arousal again, a pulse at the apex of your legs thrumming to almost fierce levels. Fuck, you wanted to put one of your hands between your own legs, but right now, your focus was solely on Papas pleasure.

He exhaled with a ‘ha’ sound, another groan making its way out through his clenched teeth. You felt one of his hands curl itself through your hair, pulling slightly to get your attention.

You looked up at him, and you were so turned on by the sight. Papa’s face was contorted in lustful indulgence. Some of his hair plastered itself to his forehead while other pieces stuck out at the sides as though he had been running his fingers through the salt-and-pepper strands. You made a quick mental note to fix it before he went back on stage. 

He pulled again at your hair and you removed your mouth from him, although your hand continued to work, stroking up and down his entire shaft. 

“Fuck my mouth Papa.” The words in your desire-filled heart spoke themselves aloud.

He growled, “Open up.”

You did exactly as you were told, moving both hands now to his thighs as he readjusted his grip on your hair. The music was changing, the instrumental interlude was almost to an end. Your mouth opened wide and you got your wish.

Papa fucked your mouth as though the success of the ritual depended on it. He wasted no time pressing his impressive length into your mouth and throat as far as it could go. Your gag reflex was being obliterated with each thrust of his hips forwards. After several quick, punishing blows to your throat it finally relaxed. You were at his mercy, and mercy, he was not pulling any punches.

Tears stained your cheeks, an ache started in your jaw, and your facial muscles tensed. The pressure, the pain was all made worth it as you looked up through bleary eyes to see Papa. His chest shuddered with every breath. His heterochromatic eyes watched you and his eyebrows were knit together. Papa's mouth hung open and dirty remarks, expletives, and guttural sounds of pleasure sputtered out. 

“Look at you, so wanton, so needy for my cock that you’ll kneel before me.”

You hummed in response, pressing your thighs together to try to gain even a slight bit of friction between them. 

It could have been the vibrations from your hum that put him over the edge, or maybe it was that he knew he had to get back out there, but his grasp in your hair tightened. Your scalp flashed in white hot pain as he cried out in one final thrust and painted the back of your throat with hot, heavy spurts of his release.

You swallowed greedily, not wanting a single drop to be missed as he pulled out of your mouth and moved to quickly pull his pants back up. He knelt down unexpectedly, and you met his gaze. His gloved hands wiped the tears from your cheeks as he leaned forward and kissed you on your swollen lips.

“Grazie, mi amore, I shall return the favor after the show.”

With one final caress to your cheek with his hand, he stood, pulling his bright, glittering jacket on one arm at a time. You watched, rosy-cheeked and soft-eyed as he straightened his clothes, checking himself out in the mirror. Of course he looked over everything except his hair.

You snapped out of your lightheaded stupor with a second of time to remain, shooting to your feet, “Wait!”

He turned towards you and you wiped your damp hands on your thigh-highs before reaching up to smooth his soft hair back into place. You covered his eyes and with your dominant hand snagged the miniature can of hairspray out of your stash of supplies to fix everything back in place. 

You’d be damned if you didn’t do your job. 

Papa grabbed you by your collar once you dropped your hands, kissing you once more before heading back on stage. The scent of hairspray, his cologne, and sweat created a haze for you to dream in, thinking of the implications of his words from earlier.

You couldn’t wait for him to return the favor.

#the band ghost x reader smut #the band ghost x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader smut #cardinal copia x reader smut #papa emeritus x reader smut

[jmdbjk]

Praise and worship

I finally figured out the meaning of the Standing Next to You MV!!

But first, did Kookie wax his pits or does he always have that landing strip of hair there?

Anyway, sorry for the immediate digression but you know it is imperative to dissect everything, even pit hair.

Back to the MV...

The opening scenes include this very non-inclusive sign:

Only limos, no sportscars, SUVs, pick up trucks, family sedans or mopeds welcome here. They are keeping the riff-raff out. ONLY LIMOS THEY SAID CAN'T YOU READ THE SIGN?

Obviously makes sense when we see this dystopian scene where less than a dozen people are walking around inside some sort of derelict compound. A FORTRESS FOR ONLY THE STRETCH LIMO PREFERRING POPULATION!

Incidentally, stretch limos represent 1 percent of the options available from limo companies in the U.S. (I googled it).

Amazing that they found this many in Budapest.

What was once a sign of affluence has now fallen on hard times... hence the decrepit dystopia pictured above.

Enter our female antagonist. Who does she represent? I'll get to that later...

Our antagonist is antagonizing beautifully throughout but starts off antagonistically in her leather coatdress and 1980's heavy black eyeliner and bobbed hair. After all, the song is a throwback to that era of the late 70's/early 80's. All she is missing is the peach blush in the hollows of her cheeks. Hand me a Maybelline Blooming Colors Blush Palette and I'll fix it.

Then the dark angel makes his appearance. Ah, yes, sweet angel, come closer.

I think he has come down or up from where ever dark angels habitate in order to correct an injustice... the injustice being the duck-billed cups of this atrociously antagonistic dress our antagonist is made to wear:

For real... they couldn't find a better fitting dress? At least grab a roll of toilet paper and stuff those titty cups to fill them out? They are so sad and droopy looking... props to her Maybelline Expert Eyes Turquoise eye shadow though.

I suppose the stacked pancakes... I mean bra cups... could have meant to be an homage to another 80's icon: Madonna and her cone shaped bra... but ... nah... try again. They look like hamburgers. Now I can't unsee it. So, so sad.

We do a lil spin and our protagonist spins himself up into a jewel encrusted, crotch grabbing, finger pointing master of his game.

I think he's here to conduct a worship service.

It's time to be churched:

Stretch limos (because no riff-raff remember?) enter the opening in a temple-of-Petra-like giant wall emblazoned with JK's sacred heart logo. Very symbolic.

In they go to gather for worship. Others sit in theatre seats while Ms. Antagonist sits on the car like a hood ornament.

So... who is she and what's going on here?

No clue. She sits haughtily and antagonistically on her outdated stretch limo, while her little minions sit in the rows watching the object of their desire preaching the holy choreography.

However, Mr. Protagonist is about to really lay down the religion.

But first, gratuitous shot of Kookie prancing in heeled chelsea boots.

Back to religion... the religion of Bangtan dance... one of these is not like the other.

(*covers Hobi-hyung's eyes* Don't look its too painful.)

Did they not monitor this mess?

I don't meant to be disrespectful and I know these guys are some of the best dancers in the industry but next to Jungkook, they look like a herd of elephants. Just sayin'.

Anyway, Protagonist proceeds to become angry at the sloppy choreo and all the limo drivers gather for a gang-brawl in the middle of the church. Probably arguing over the spelling of chauffeur. I couldn't find an urban slang reference for limo, limousine or limo driver. I'm sure some exist but being the innocent thing I am, I don't know what they are.

Mr. Protagonist brings down the wrath and puts the fear of Hobi into his crew:

Then the climax of the whole darn thing: a dance break. Holy communion commences with serious thrusting into crotch grabs (some are enjoying it more than others):

Service concludes and I wonder how many takes before they got one where Kookie didn't bust out laughing with his bunny giggle?

But seriously, the MV does seem to be an homage to an era where Michael Jackson thrilled us with his brilliant music and dancing. Jungkook is continuing to pull us and BTS as a group along, forging new paths for them in the music industry. Like Kookie, I am anxious for them to reunite and get back on that stage together. And like Yoongi, I too believe they will devour the world.

(It's humor, y'all.)

#worship at the altar of jungkook #its humor #sarcasm #parody #its not serious #i apologize if i offended anyone #however Bangtan Church of Choreography is very serious #standing next to you #jungkook golden #looking forward to a choreo performance mv please

[thetravelingegg]

Hello! We are happy that you have chosen to become a crew member of the Lost Light. Before you get started there are some rules you must follow to ensure your safety for the duration of the journey.

Rules for the Lost Light:

1. If you see a yellow briefcase, don’t touch it and immediately notify Ultra Magnus of its whereabouts.

2. Do not, for any reason, be within 50 ft of the engine during takeoff. If you ignore this rule then we are not responsible for what happens to you.

3. If you are in the engine room and you hear a voice whispering “kill me”, you’re imagining things. Do not tell anyone else about it.

4. If you hear a really loud BOOM, do not initiate your transformation cog and make your way to the medibay.

5. If suddenly all of the lights turn off, lock all doors and don’t leave the room. Try to make as little noise as possible and do not attempt to turn on any lights. Don’t let any unfamiliar bots inside the room. DO NOT let him see you.

6. If at any point on this journey you find corpses with these characteristics, it is imperative that you immediately notify your captains and leave the area:

- Missing T-cog

- Processor in it’s mouth

- A face covered in puncture marks

- Has been electrocuted to death

- Has been grounded up

7. If you ever hear someone singing or humming the song The Empurean Suite nearby, IMMEDIATELY leave the area. Do whatever you need to do to get away. Anything is better than letting them catch you.

8. Don’t sing or hum The Empyrean Suite.

9. There are scraplets in the oil reservoir. Don’t worry she is mostly domesticated and will not harm you unless it is her feeding time. Do not swim in the reservoir at the times of 10:00 and 25:00

10. The Lost Light has no psychiatrist. If a mech with a grey mouthpiece claims to be one and proposes having sessions with him, do not agree and immediately notify your captains.

11. If you are looking old Lost Light footage or logs and you see any mention of an orange and white bot with glasses and a spark window, named Rung, occupation: psychiatrist, immediately cease looking at the document and give it to the ships archivist Rewind. This mech does not exist. The Lost Light has no psychiatrist.

12. If someone leaves and then comes back acting strangely and with fresh puncture wounds in the nape of their neck, immediately notify your captains.

#mtmte #rules horror #horror #spoilers #the timeline is messed up just ignore it #overlord #sunder #the djd #Froid #rung #transformers idw #mnemosurgery #whirl’s scraplets #maccadam

[nucleiaster]

i made crêpes last week

#original character art #sci fi oc #alien oc #digital sketches #spaceship crew #space pirate #the artowl #radio isotope #ch : wenn #ch : captain #ch : jill #ch : raki #ch : nua #ch : lieutenant #ch : emperor #ch : meden #ch : etha #full crew #full cast #imperator crew

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross Guild and omageverse concept

Buggy is an Omega. Presentation happens relatively young ((around 11~13)), so Roger was still alive when Buggy had his first juvenile Heat. ((First Heats are not sexual, it's actually a sudden influx of hormones. The Very First will typically be slightly more painful than the rest bc of organ activation and it's essentially the start up sequence. Following that, there's cramps, hormones, etc. Once they hit about 17+, it's essentially ovulation and biological imperatives.))

Buggy's Heats have always been... intense. Cycles vary person to person, but our beloved clown seemed to have drawn the short end of the stick.

He's been on suppressants as much as possible to either mitigate the severity or avoid them outright. He will allow himself one full, untouched cycle every now and again, depending on his health, to avoid potentially lethal events. His crew knows. His friends are there to help, as they can. Ritchie in particular LOVES the mandated cuddle puddles.

When Cross Guild happens, Buggy is due for a Heat. He pushes it off as much as he can, and it's already toeing the line. Impel Down had mandated suppressant dosages which were excessive, to avoid the chances of "cross contamination", so Buggy was already detoxing from that, was already due, had pushed it off to be more hands on with the merc group, and now there's two unbound Alphas working in direct contact with him - he's not comfortable with letting it go now.

The good thing with detoxing from suppressants over a long time is that your body has time to reacclimate.

The bad thing is that Buggy has been on suppressants for so long that he has a higher tolerance.

It's during a prospective meeting with a sponsor/prospective ally that this comes to bite him in the ass. The other boss is an Alpha, one without much by way of manners, and he's practically oozing pheromones that sing submit agree commit submit submit submit-

Buggy already didn't like this guy, but this? It's nauseating. It makes him bristle inside and he's grateful for his scent masking patches bc he can only imagine how sour and bitter he must be smelling at the moment. Instead he plasters on a smile but stays pointedly straight backed, chin level, safely between the two Alphas he tentatively trusts.

It escalates when the man drags a young Omega in his party closer and suddenly Buggy is biting back the urge to hiss and stalk and protect because this kid (maybe 19-22) is scared, high, and in preheat. This other Omega is silent but their scent is screaming, and Buggy's suppressants aren't strong enough, his scent patches aren't thorough enough, his need to protect and care for isn't held back enough and suddenly he's growling and a hand is grabbing the other Omega, dragging them to his chest and he's hunching over them, glaring absolute death at the entitled, arrogant Alpha in his Territory, blatantly ignoring the Rules, and Buggy Is Furious And Beyond Reason.

Crocodile, at first, is about to snatch the clown by the hair, about to threaten and take control of the situation. Then he smells it - a sharp, ozone-like scent woven intricately with something earthy and something sweet. His eyes widen, his jaw clenching around his cigar. He doesn't move, merely observing.

Mihawk does not visibly react beyond shifting his body slightly to free room for Buggy to move. He is equally surprised, equally wary as an Omega can be the most dangerous when they are given reason to Protect, but he does not emote much. His mind is racing - he'd never realized the Clown was an Omega, Shanks had never alluded to it, at best he figured the blue haired buffoon to be a Beta and yet-

"Control your bitch," the Alpha man growled to both former warlords, a dark look in his eye.

Before either dark haired man can respond, Buggy is pushing the kid into their sides, and he is lunging.

The deal does not go through, but they do collect the wealth the group was offering by right of death. The Omega is given the chance to return home or stay, an offer to the other Omegas in the hold of the ship. It is not surprising that most choose to remain at Karai Bari.

Buggy has been triggered into a Heat, his first in many years. He is overwhelmed and antsy and Crocodile and Mihawk, feeling a bit responsible for the situation having known the rumors of the prospect group, offer to assist.

It isn't sexual, not in the least, but both men are invited to Buggy's Nest, and they dote on the overheated, slightly delirious clown as best they can. They are surprised when Buggy drags them out the next day to the announcement tent and begins frantically working on a Nest that is arguably gargantuan. They allow themselves to be settled inside, and further allow Buggy to wedge himself between them with a half purr half sigh.

Then they are flabbergasted when some of the Guild members step in, see the Nest, brighten, and scurry back out. Within minutes there's a gaggle of mercenaries or performers at the edge. "May we enter," they ask, buzzing with excitement, and Buggy trills softly.

The Nest isn't big enough for everyone - there likely isn't enough blankets, pillows or otherwise on the entire isle for that, but people come and go, and they all allow Buggy to scent them softly or bring snacks or water. The entire island is treated like Pack. When either lieutenant gets a touch overwhelmed by the proximity or smells, Buggy pushes them slightly, allowing them to go get a breather.

It's unconventional, unexpected, but also...rather sweet.

The majority of people have dinner in the announcement tent that evening, all coexisting and smiling and much more calm than the rowdy bunch was known for. At the end, they all allow Buggy one more little cuddle before retiring for the night or to watch duty. At the end, Buggy falls asleep halfway under Ritchie, side pressed to Mohji's hip, head on Cabaji's thigh and fingers gripping the hem of Alvida's capris.

Questions are asked and answered in the dim quiet of nighttime. Buggy's closest friends offer to relieve the two Alphas of their positions watching over the clown, but they refuse.

Conversations are had, new bonds made, and by the end of it all, the two dark haired former warlords feel like they may just understand their new home and new companions just a bit better.

Want to start off saying that it’s refreshing to see not all heats are made for sexual intercourse, thank very much because this is so cute!!! Well the ending is, how everyone is a pack and they are not a normal pack because they all follow a Omega instead of a Alpha… now I’m thinking the reason why Crocodile and Mihawk think its like a pack is because the only way to have a pack is if the leader is a Alpha… Yeah no, that’s not how it is!

Poor Buggy having very painful heats, if heats are anything like periods. Then I have to comfort Buggy because periods fucking hurt so bad. I got the short end of the stick, dealing with the same painful periods like my mother 😭😭😭

I like the idea that The Very First is just to get the body ready for what’s going to happen for the rest of Omega’s life until they stop because of old age. It makes perfect, logical sense for this to happen. I’m so happy that it’s 17+, not like what our periods starts usually.

It’s sad that Buggy has to take suppressants for not wanting to do it because of the pain. Good thing he lets himself have one that’s full cycle, which is untouched from all the medication. Good thing he has his friends to comfort him and guide him through it by Cuddle Puddles!!! The name is so fucking cute, I’ll have to use that… can I plz 🥺

Impel Down having a mandated suppressant dosages sounds good because of the people inside, but for Buggy that’s bad because he is already was on suppressants and he needs a time to have a cycle that’s free from the suppressants. Now that he is detoxing from it, he can’t have his suppressants… Impel Down would have high dosages wouldn’t they, wouldn’t put it pass the world government to kill people with over-dosages… anyway, Buggy protecting that young Omega is so sweet! Heehee that man’s death wasn’t a pretty or merciful one… GOOD! That’s what the fucker deserves, a very painful death for being so gross and disgusting. How DARE he tell Crocodile to control “his” bitch, Buggy might be a bitch but he ain’t Crocodile’s! All alone and doing well, hell even if they get together Buggy will be his own bitch… if that makes sense, my brain isn’t letting explain my thoughts right again… At least they reep the befents of killing the leader! Good thing that dickass is dead!

Awwwwwwwww, I love that many of the Omegas choose to remain on Karai Bari Island, they will be treated with respect that they should have. I’m glad that Mihawk and Crocodile choose that they would take responsibility for the situation. Good that they are doting on the flashy clown the best they can. So cute that Buggy went to the announcement tent and making a nest. It’s such a cute scene!!!

Then the mercenaries and performers coming over and asking for entrance to the giant nest. It’s so sweet and wholesome, everyone is coming in and out whenever they can. Giving him snacks and water, awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!

Buggy letting the lieutenants go when they feeling overwhelmed, pushing them away, telling them ‘You need a break’ so Crocodile and Mihawk can get a breather. The announcement tent becoming the dinner hall for the day, there’s barely any bickering and banter, being calmer for their captain, AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Then giving their leader once last cuddle before going to bed or to their job, then with his other lieutenants (they have to be lieutenants as well, just lower in rank) [Buggy falls asleep halfway under Richie, side pressed to Mohji's hip, head on Cabaji's thigh and fingers gripping the hem of Alvida's capris] That’s so fucking tooth-rotting sweet and wholesome!!!Then at nighttime, Mihawk and Crocodile are snuggling Buggy, refusing to change positions with Buggy’s closest friends!!! I wish to scream that’s full of excitement! Good think the former warlords starting to understand their new home and new companions just a bit better.

#one piece #buggy pirates #cross guild #buggy the clown #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #iron mace alvida #cabaji #mohji #richie the lion #buggy the star clown #buggy the bombastic clown #crocodile #mihawk #alvida #richie #buggy #captain buggy #omegaverse #one piece au #buggy the genius jester #buggy the flashy fool #ideas~4~stories says #ask

[milkywaybottles]

Flowers - Rain (The Band Ghost) x Reader Fluff Imagine

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hiya! If you like this and want to see more Ghost content, please give it a heart so I can take on feedback. This oneshot is written from the canon lore perspective, not that of our universe with the band and the (technically unmasked) members <3

Reader's Pronouns: Unspecified but typically more feminine descriptions.

Prompt: 'You got me flowers?'

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You and Rain were always very close, following each other around on tour like lost puppy dogs. All the ghouls, and even Papa, knew that you two were practically inseparable. There was just something in the way he acted around you, so gentle and caring and yet not afraid to mess around either. All of the Ghouls called you ‘Sister’ except for the shy Rain, who opted for your real name, ‘(Y/N)’, instead. Papa was always an adamant creature of habit and in the beginning, would scold Rain for doing so, but as time passed, he realised it was simply not worth the fight. Rain was more apprehensive than his ghoul brethren, most attributing it to his element of water. For this reason, Papa decided against enforcing the rule as Rain’s outward happiness was a less than common occurrence.

You loved that ghoul so much, hence why you found yourself standing a few metres from stage, a bouquet of off-white roses and a bottle of water at your side. Knowing that he would be tired, thirsty and a bit doubtful of himself after the performance, you had purchased a few items to hopefully cheer him up. Performing so brilliantly was a tiring act after all.

The familiar tune of Square Hammer was one you knew all too well. One of your favourites, right after Cirice. The crowd had erupted into wild and feverish cheers, seemingly just as excited and bliss-filled as you. Square Hammer was always their ending song, perfect for sending off the night’s ritual, or ‘concert’ as the outsiders knew it. Your heart swelled with pride at the sight of Rain, bouncing on stage with his bass secured in his hands. He was in the same position as always, directly in front of Mountain on the stairs. Most of the Ghouls were known for being extremely active on stage, especially Dew, who loved interacting with people. But not Rain. He kept, instead, to his comforting little spot, knowing Mountain was watching over him.

Though, you couldn’t deny that the new masks that Papa and the rest of the Clergy had implemented were giving him the needed boost of confidence to rock out on stage.

‘Thank you everybody’ Papa called out, addressing the audience of the ritual. Another successful ritual, done and dusted. Sister Imperator would be happy to hear about the following we amassed recently. As the group took their bows, you felt a smile creep up your face. Guitar picks were being tossed out, the fans always loved that. Your following had to be one of the kindest and you all were so lucky to have them.

A few moments had passed before the crew began to wrap up, one by one, each Ghoul and Ghoulette coming off into the side pits of the stage to meet you. It was always in the same order, Papa, Aether, Dewdrop, Sunshine, Cirrus, Mountain, Cumulus, Swiss and finally, Rain.

‘Great job out there guys. Killed it, like always’ You cheered, giving Aether a fist bump as he passed by. The freezing metal rings on his hand caused your skin to jump at the touch.

‘Thank you, Sister’ Papa acknowledged before disappearing behind a set of black, crushed velvet curtains. As soon as Rain caught sight of you, he rushed over, setting aside his bass in the instrument rack.

‘(Y/N)’ he chirped, correcting himself with a cough, ‘Sister…’ His gaze drifted from your stunning face to the bouquet held limply in your arms. ‘Why do you have a bouquet?’

You extended your offerings of water and roses, praying to Lucifer that he would like it. You knew exactly what type of roses were his favourite, that being white English roses. He claimed they smelt the best. ‘I knew you’d be tired and thirsty, as for the roses… it’s just because you did an amazing job’

Even under his mask, you could watch his face melt as he took the flowers ever so gently from your hands. ‘You got me flowers?’ He cooed. ‘Mhmm’ you gave a cheerful nod. Without another word, he embraced your soft, small body in an iron hug, your body overwhelmed with warmth. Rain tilted his head down to place the softest kiss upon the crown of your head. When he broke away, he tucked the flowers behind his arm and consumed the whole bottle of water on the spot. ‘Thank you, Darling’

It must have been the sheer excitement that had prompted it because Rain almost instantly transformed back to his regular state, his leathery tail spade sticking out and all. You couldn’t help but give him a coy giggle.

‘Rainy~’ Dewdrop teased, ‘You got a problem there. Try to keep it in your pants'

Aether was less enthusiastic about his transformation. Rain was the youngest by a few years and, at times, often took a lot from the older Ghouls. ‘Rain, come on. Hold off until we’re off venue’. You knew Rain was loved by all of his ghoulish brothers and sisters, and that Aether was just trying to protect him from getting spotted by a fan. He bashfully nodded and in a flash, reverted back to his performing state, mimicking that of a human, like you.

'Sorry' He mumbled shyly. You wished he never had to apologise for being himself.

'It's alright Rain. I'm really happy you like them' You bubbled, blush rising to your cheeks.

There would be lots of cuddles in store for you later.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#rain ghoul #nameless ghouls #rain x reader #aether ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #the band ghost #ghost #cardinal copia #papa iv #fluff #x reader #oneshot

[atsadi-shenanigans]

The crew, after being told to save Nere because the gnomes are trapped with him and will die.

Astarion: Gnomes? Ew. Who cares about them?

Tav: Me, motherfucker.

Astarion now fumbling to resecure his best food source down here: And that’s why it’s imperative we get them out of there!

Shadowheart: Wow. It took a lot from you to say that.

Astarion wipes a tear: It did. I’m glad someone noticed.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 astarion #astarion #he’s an ass #i still love him #but we’re gonna save those gnomes

[dr-narcissa-igma]

Alright everyone, listen up!

@n-odious-tropy @nthropoid @iris-rainbow @leonardimerick @two-distant-stars

The upcoming battle is fast approaching, and there's plenty of tasks that need to be assigned. We can't let the Hull Cutter's crew win this fight.

- Direct combat: We'll need a skilled fighter to launch an assault on the Hull Cutter directly, take the fight directly to Cortex.

- Weapons convoy and treasure: Jacob has unfortunately decided to add an extra layer of challenge to the fight, by hiring a convoy of gear to venture through the jungle, as well as hiding treasure. I'll grant you temporary access to my island-wide security system to track the convoy and scope out the jungle.

- Handle the ship: Someone needs to stay behind and steer the ship, man the cannons, etc.

- Confront the captain: I myself will be confronting Scurvy directly. It's absolutely imperative that I talk to him, so we cannot take his life or injure him in any capacity.

I'll be awaiting any extra suggestions or insight from you all.

#narcissa igma #odious tropy #jacob thropoid #iris rainbow #leonard imerick #sedrick p. ace #pirate war #oc rp #crash bandicoot rp #crash bandicoot