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#DO NOT TAG AS A SHIP THANKS :D

grapecaseschoices · 5 months

Note

Idk if you've been asked this before but what would you like to see more of in IF genre wise and RO wise. Are there any tropes you wish were more prevalent or genres?

i may have? [i think so!] but thoughts change. so it's all good in the hood.

My response to the first one would always be more diversity. More characters of color, more characters of different ethnicities, variety in body types. More characters with disabilities. More short male and nonbinary ROs. More amazonian female and nonbinary ROs.

I've seen some improvement in body types, at least from the recent IFs I've been eyeing, especially when the ROs don't have pictures but more is always great.

As for TYPES:

For IFs:

I'm a historical romance fan, so I would love to see more of those. In general. I don't mean in a magical world [though I will get that to it], but slice of life during the Harlem Jazz Era, murder mystery in Japan in the 1930s, etc. And if you MUST, must, must do it in a European setting [nothing wrong with that, I love a good Regency romance], there is no reason for it to be all white. Or even entirely white. 1- I don't care about historical inaccuracies [half the time people get corsets and medical stuff wrong anyway] 2- if you MUST be accurate, do your research.

Though, I do love fantastical/sci-fi in historical settings. And I don't mean aliens made the pyramids [don't try it]! More like a Victorian era IF making influence of the steampunk genre [which go hand in hand]. Or netflix's taking zombies and putting them in ancient Korea [is it Korea? I don't watch those shows]. Give me elves in the Mayan empire. Or maybe something like where people advanced tech-wise but the social mores are very Regency. "Urban" Fantasy in Imperial China. Werewolves vs Vampires but make them Vikings.

More isekai IFs. Both in how they do it in manga/manhwa but also like a Kid In King Arthur's court, kind of vibe. You're not Alice but you're in Wonderland.

I love the slices of life coming out. Particularly the ones that are inspired by shows. I want more of that! Maybe even films.

I want more witches and werewolves. That is it. Separate. Together. Any era. I want them.

I also want more stories with the Fae. Changelings and hobgoblins and The Hunt. Tam Lin and kelpies and trades. The nightmarish stuff.

More stories about second chances in life, especially for older characters.

Um. I had more thoughts but I've lost them.

ROs.

Second chance! But something like you and your ex got a divorce, but there are kids [hi thicker than!]. Or the one who got away in high school/college [hi dropout!]. I don't want fresh feelings being washed out [though that's nice]. I want scratching at old scabs. I want you thought these feelings were dead but they're back. Or they did die, but now we're different people and -- oh, hello ... again?

Speaking of second chance. I would like more ROs who have pasts. Lost loves. Heartbreaks. Mistakes they've made and they're trying again.

Tired of alpha men. More 'alphas' of other genders.

I want ROs who are messes. And not in the shy, awk introvert~ Who is sometimes klutzy but its cute! I mean someone who thinks they're good with people but is actually a disaster. Characters who are angry. And mourning. And have their own issues that make them imperfect. That also won;t be solved just because MC is there.

This.

Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Friends and then Lovers again.

Enemies to Enemies with Benefits to Grudging Friends to Bickering Lovers.

Older ROs.

MORE FAKE DATING/MARRIAGE PLEASE!

A King and a Lionheart. But make it dark.

And my all time fave: this right here.

#anon #grapecase answers #long post #thanks for the ask anon #i sorta smooshed relationship tropes with type of ros i want #i expanded my brain on types of IFs #idk if i have types of ros i want to see more of other than older and more characters of color #i think if i were to do types i might have to focus on a specific genre #liike what i want from slice of life ros. what i want to see in urban fantasy ros. etc #i will say more personalities for e. asian ros that isn't shy/awk or cold and stoic. and more personaliies for black ros that isn't #the soft and supportive bff #im sleepy i will ponder tho.#honestly my shipping tropes/ship inspo tags could give you a great picture #but this gives me so much food for thought anon #so thanks <3 :-D

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breezypunk · 2 years

Text

ℙ𝔸𝕀ℝ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ℙ𝕃𝔸𝕐𝕃𝕀𝕊𝕋

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 @katsigian, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞! :𝟹

𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝟻+𝟷 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐.

- 𝕆𝕋ℙ: 𝔾𝕆𝕃𝔻𝔼ℕ ℍ𝕌𝔼𝕊 -

(1). ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇᴇʀ ᴜɴɪᴏɴ

ᴍᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ᴀʟʟ ɢʀᴏᴡ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴇᴅᴇɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ʙʟᴏꜱꜱᴏᴍ, ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇꜱ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴜᴛᴜᴍɴ ꜱᴏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ɢᴏ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ɢᴏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɢᴏ.

(2). ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜱ - ᴀᴍʙʏɪᴏɴ

ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ʟᴇᴛ ɢᴏ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ’ᴠᴇ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜱ ɴᴏᴡ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇᴇ.

(3). ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ'ꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ - ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀʜᴇᴀʀᴛ

ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʀɪᴠᴇʀ ꜰʟᴏᴡꜱ ɢᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴀ ɪ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ʟᴇᴅ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ'ꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ.

(4). ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ - ᴅᴀɴɪᴇʟ ʙᴇᴅɪɴɢꜰɪᴇʟᴅ

ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜʏ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴏ ꜰᴀʀ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ɪꜱ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ɪ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ɪ ᴅɪᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ᴘʀᴀʏɪɴ' ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ɪ ʙᴜɪʟᴅ ᴍʏ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ.

(5). ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ - ʟɪꜰᴇʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ

'ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜʏ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴍʏ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ

(ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ) ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰᴀʟʟ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ - ꜱᴇʟᴇɴᴀ

ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ ᴡɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ?

#Ship Music #Tag Game #Pairing Playlist #I Raaaaaaan to do this :3 #Shippy music is my favorite #Soul of the Beautiful has a very special spot <3 #Thanks for the tag! :D #if you see this feel free to jump in #oc: Vaughn Leblanc #Goro Takemura #otp: Golden Hues #Tag: shippy stuff

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braindeadmaggot · 2 years

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Hiya! For the OP ask: #3. Favorite romantic ship with Shanks? And Vivi? Hawkins too? #4. Favorite platonic ship with Usopp? And Robin?

I will be answering both of these from my pov as a writer. As a reader, I will read anything and will give you a 10 star rating no matter the pairing. Always. I found a random ZoroxBuggy knife kink PWP years ago (that is lost forever because I can't remember the name) and it was awesome. I recommend it.

3. Favorite romantic ship with Shanks? And Vivi? Hawkins too? I like to believe that Shanks had a preteen, puppy love romance with Buggy. While Buggy may have always had feelings for Shanks, he never acted on it until they were 13 and had their first pints of ale, got drunk and Shanks noticed how Buggy always looks at him with dreamy eyes. Since then Shanks instigated all their interactions and urged Buggy to open up and explore each other more. When the crew disbanded Shanks grew up and met new people, leaving Buggy behind to pine for him; begrudgingly so. It's one of the reasons why Buggy's so pissed off at Shanks now as adults. Of course Buggy got over it and no longer has feels for Shanks, not in the last decade or so, but getting over him was NOT easy especially when it wasn't even in his agenda to get under him, that was all Shanks' doing.

Shanks is now married to Makino and they have a baby boy together. I haven't seen Film Red yet, as it has not yet been released to the public, but whoever the fuck Uta is, she is not canon and I will be viewing this film as a very expensive fanfiction. Just like HP and the cursed child. She ain't real.

With Vivi, I do enjoy reading her shipped with Ace (there's this one fic I read ages ago that I can't find again, I thought it was Water Sector but alas I was wrong) but in my own writing Ace is with Smoker and only Smoker. Vivi: I don't mind her with Koza, I think she might actually marry him one day in canonverse... maybe. I like the idea of her with Nami, just not sure if i can write that. I mean literally I can, but I don't know if I can write it well. My heart's not in it just yet. I noticed when color coding names, Vivi's partners are all orange. It's fate

Hawkins... This is hard. When HAK (Hawkins/Apoo/Kid) alliance first came up, I immediately shipped him with Apoo. Why? Because rule 34 that's why. Like, I had it aaaall planned out. The meet cute, the debacles, the inconveniences, the second meet cute, all of it. It was like a Hallmark movie where Hawkins was a 30+ year old head strong business person that moved to a small town on a whim in the milk of autumn and met an eccentric local that pissed him off every which way and what, but they had exactly one, count it, ONE thing in common and now they're madly in love. Hawkins and Apoo..... Why did I do this? I don't even remember what it was anymore!! Wano arc came and *spoilers* the bitches were bitches and now I hate them Fuck their love, they can die alone.

That being said, ship Hawkins with his black cat mink crew member Faust because fuck it I don't care anymore. Joey Jordison looking bastard can go to hell (this makes me so sad because I fucking love Joey Jordison so fucking much. RIP #1)

4. Favorite platonic ship with Usopp? And Robin? Usopp is technically in a platonic relationship with everyone accept Kaya. But if we want to get into the could-have-been relationships, first off is Nami. I like to think she fell in love with the nerd some time after Little Garden or Drum but he shot her down and she was hurt for a while but got over it. I can kind of see her in a Shakky/Rayleigh type marriage with Luffy, but that's more like a "I'm your wife so you better listen to me" kinda thing because someone needs to be able to legally control the rubber idiot and also she gets 50% of everything he has so it's also an investment. But this isn't about Nami!!

Second chb is with Sanji. I love seeing SanUso art and they look so great together. In a perfect world I think SanUso could definitely be a strong and healthy thing, but this is One Piece and not a single thing is even remotely healthy about anything.

Third (and fourth) chb is if Usopp had stayed behind on Water 7. Franky joined Luffy and left, leaving Usopp all alone with no one on a completely new island. No friends, no Merry; nothing. He probably would have started working for Iceburg and became Paulie's apprentice. His ship designs would be highly sought for and he more than likely would have invented a lot of stuff of the yagara bulls and he also probably would have a Sogeking statue somewhere like how the dwarves have a Noland bust in Tontatta Kingdom. The entire island would be his friends but the two people that would love him the most, and he would love the most would be Kiwi and Mozu. They're just a couple of years older than him (Kiwi was 20, Mozu 19 when they met SHP), they're Franky's backup dancers/little sisters, they know the ins and outs of the underworld and black market, AND they look like Banchina. HIS MOTHER. He would have followed them around like a lost puppy calling them "Big Sisses Big Sisses". They don't know why he looks that them weird sometimes, why he always makes sure they're comfortable and makes them tea, like, ALWAYS, all the time. TEA. He even has extra blankets out in case they get cold because one, his mom, and two, they wear bikinis everywhere. They might get cold. He'd subconsciously revert back to his 10 year old self talking care of his sickly mom, K&M would more than likely get fed up because A) they're older than him and B) not in their own house you treat them like little kids. It would be very awkward but in the end I think Franky Family would have turned into Usopp Pirates 2.0.

Robin's got a major broship with Zoro.

#yeah #Robin's was really short #thanks for the ask #anon #i have very many opinions about Usopp #I have very many thoughts hidden in my tags about him and his childhood #Usopp is my favorite straw hat and I wish him so much happiness #I think he would have loved it on Water 7 but I wouldn't have accomplished his dreams #not unless he built his own his and set sail with a new crew as captain #Captain Usopp #Go D Usopp #ShanksxBuggy #aka #Shuggy #is one of my favorite ships #I love it so much because it hurts #it's all puppy love and first times and miscommunication and unintentional backstabbing #mostly shanks not reading the mood and buggy not being completely open about his feelings #they're teenagers in love what do you expect #their romance ends so badly buggy is never the same afterwards #shanks can suck a fucking egg. he just goes on with his life like nothing #gets married and has a kid. right in the same fucking ocean where his ex is hiding out in #really shanks? fucking really? Buggy is RIGHT FUCKING THERE #so many opinions on this #BrainDeadAsks #BrainDeadAnswers

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sexlapis · 6 months

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Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~

Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D

thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.

and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)

cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(

wc: 2k+

you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.

sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.

admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.

sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.

you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.

there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.

toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.

“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.

“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.

“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”

“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.

fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.

but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.

so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.

“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.

“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”

you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.

it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-

you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.

“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”

you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”

and then there is black.

౨ৎ

you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.

“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.

oh, toji’s here.

“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.

“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.

“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”

“oh.”

toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.

“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”

you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.

toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”

the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.

“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.

“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”

you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”

toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.

“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.

you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.

“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”

you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”

“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”

“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.

“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”

you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.

“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”

“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”

“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”

you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.

“yeah, i do.” you agree.

suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.

toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”

you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.

toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”

“i will if there’s food involved.”

“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”

a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3

#📫.toji #📫.answered #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro fanfic #actor!toji #actress!reader #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you

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artekai · 2 years

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for the ask meme, 2 & 9 for maruki and 10 for your ocs (if applicable)? /u\

Hehe of course, thank you lots friend!!!! :D <3

2- What song(s) remind you of this character?

Oooh I recently found a song that reminds me WAY too much of Takurumi and I've been dying to share it with someone!!! Everything goes on :3 There's more but I'll limit myself to that one for now ^^

9- What’s your favourite headcanon(s) for this character?

Hmmmmm I have suddenly forgotten every headcanon I've ever had ;-; asdfghgf sorry :') Brain is empty 😔

10- Who do you like to ship with this character? (If you do of course) Is it another character from the cast or is it an OC?

Well, I'm very invested in Frosskai!!! They're both like "I can fix him" and then make each other worse hehe ^^ They're not good for each other at all but I guess that's why I can't look away, like a car crash, lmao. But especially the obsession Fross has with Kai? It's delicious, hehe.

For Horizon!Kai specifically I have a variety of ships, haha, but I guess my main romantic one would be Arterevad (Artekai x Erend x Avad hehe). And this also might count or not depending on how you define ship, but I really like Artekai x Zo x Aloy as a queerplatonic relationship! :3

And for P5R!Kai, my favorite is, of course, Shukitakai ^^ But I've also briefly considered Ryukai :3

#no i do not know anything about lea/gue of le/gends i just recognized por/ter robin/son from sad machine #oc tag #oc: artekai #oc: fross #kaito maruki #ask tag #weavingmemories #THANKS A LOT!!! :D i always love talking about character songs and ships so this was fun!!! :D

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antimony-medusa · 1 year

Text

One of the things that I think sometimes gets lost when we talk about what's appropriate in fandom spaces is the notion that things can be appropriate in one space, but not for another. And that doesn't mean that the thing that's inappropriate in that setting is wrong, it just means that it's rude in that space. I think people want a single set of rules that's appropriate everywhere, but the thing is, you have to be able to assess the situation, and adjust your behaviour accordingly.

So an example. I have a fairly popular text post that was me asking about c!phil and religion in all innocence, and someone said "the only thing I have to say about c!phil is that he worships on his knees, thank you and goodnight". And I reblogged it like "I can't believe I forgot about how this fandom does phil analysis", cause it was at the height of the dilfza memes.

Anyways that's obviously a phil-is-happily-married/oral sex joke, in an oblique innuendo way, and on this site, where Phil is not here, and his friends are not here, with it being clear I was talking about the block man character, and we make jokes about sex and profanity (a very popular url scheme for a long time was "[name]shugecock" (or smalldick, depending on the joke)— that's a fine joke to make. I'm an adult, I can make sex jokes about fictional characters on the sex joke fictional character social media site.

If I was to make that joke in Philza's twitch chat, a) in his face, b) with his wife modding, c) in an enviroment where people aren't prepped for sex jokes, d) with it being not clear if I was talking about the cubito or about the real guy, that would be wildly inappopriate. I would be banned in every chat Philza mods in and I would deserve it.

That doesn't mean that it's inappropriate to make the joke in the first place though, just because I wouldn't do it at a Phil meet and greet. It means you gotta learn to read the room. (And like, sometimes it's hard to learn to read the room, but you can do it by pure brute-force memorization. I did.)

This is the same theory that underlies the fact that you can call your friends a bitch in a friendly way, because you are friends and you know each other's boundaries, but if you call your boss a bitch, you will be fired. There are rules about workplace appropriateness, and there are rules about what's appropriate in front of kids (I teach teens, I do not swear in front of them, I swear a LOT in front of my roommate), and there are rules about what's appropriate in different fandom spaces. Participating in an exchange about pregnancy and babies with your favourite blorbo of the moment? Great. Showing the actor gift art you got of him pregnant? No. Bad. Go directly to jail, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.

The thing that concerns me is that I think there are slight signs that as we get more comfortable with sexy jokes and offcolour remarks as a MCYT fandom (QSMP is the big banner example but it happens with other smps), we're taking what's appropriate in one space (tumblr, home of the brain worms, where I have seen the blog "philzaswetpussy" on my dash), and we're bringing it into places that it's not appropriate (sure, slimeariana is clearly canon, but maybe don't put the actual dicks-out fan art in the art tag on twitter that slime checks). Cause we can obviously tell that the rules twitter is going with are silly for here, so it's full speed ahead for roier/spreen etc, but the trick here is that it's full speed ahead HERE, or in fandom servers, and not necessarily in the streamer's faces.

We have a bunch of situations where creators have said that it's not their place to weigh in on shipping or nsfw etc, and people have taken that as a go ahead and that's fine, but thats still something where I'd like, caution people that just because they said "not gonna look at it not my deal", that doesn't mean that like, you should make it difficult for them to avoid looking at it. Talking about scitties is an honourable tradition, but telling scar that he makes you question your sexuality in his TTS— I made a horrified noise in real life and the cats came to look at me.

And I'm talking about the shipping, but this is also a thing with like— sometimes I see a streamer and I go "my friend you just vividly described neurodivergent symptoms" but it is ABSOLUTELY not my place to say that in their chat. It might not even be appropriate to make comments about it on my blog, with the amount of followers I have. I have to keep the "streamer just described the ADHD experience again :pensive:" comments for the group chat. And we all nod and go "yeah sounds like streamer", and we do not put it in his face, cause that's inappropriate.

We get to have fun with the fictional characters, including off-colour fun, but we still have to remember that there are real people who don't know us who are steering those fictional characters around, and it can be profoundly weird to see some of the (stuff that is appropriate in fandom spaces!) just up in your face in the regular fan art tag.

Just think about the space you're in, and who you're in front of, and if a CC notice is actually likely, and if a CC notice would be Very Bad actually with what you're doing, and keep the "world's sluttiest absent father" bracket (with associated slutty fan art) for here, not with the streamer tagged on twitter.

#discourse #medusas banger posts #fandom meta

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

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omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.”

It was just a kiss.

“Green Four check.”

It was just a-

“Green Five check.”

Just a-

“Green Six check.”

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.”

It wasn’t just a kiss.

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron.

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad.

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons.

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne.

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure.

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide.

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them.

Simple.

In theory.

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy.

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going?

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice.

You swallow.

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart.

I hadn’t just been a kiss.

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline.

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that.

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead.

It made a lot more sense.

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own.

They had always been close. Always. Best friends.

Sickness bubbled in your throat.

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it.

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander.

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?”

Hank chortled.

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist.

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you.

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?”

Yeah. Now you had.

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains.

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet.

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter.

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch.

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss.

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence.

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons.

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands.

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next.

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?”

“Yeah?”

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed.

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.”

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname.

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you.

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.”

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on.

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal.

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay.

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures.

“Fuck.”

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled.

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!”

“How far away is the Delta?”

“Calling in attack pattern!”

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game.

That didn’t bode well.

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction.

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on.

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!”

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process.

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?”

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down.

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard.

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns.

Good.

But there’s so, so many of them.

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems.

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together.

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing.

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear.

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through.

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on.

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter.

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home.

Frizz.

“No…”

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal.

Nothing.

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz.

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes.

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist.

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity.

All you need is…

Another alarm.

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!”

A chorus of yells answer you.

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely.

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard.

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot.

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist.

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected.

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons.

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull.

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it.

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact.

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell.

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire.

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational.

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on.

Two chances left.

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits.

Poe shouts for you over the intercom.

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will.

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call.

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit.

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it.

The canon doesn’t go down.

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him.

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do.

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down.

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out-

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream.

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain.

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob.

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit.

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it.

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide.

Make it look like you had a weapon.

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning.

Can’t let them take you alive.

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down.

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot.

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue.

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear.

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds.

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use.

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back.

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good.

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?”

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper.

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-”

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.”

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe.

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.”

You snort.

He smiles.

“Who did we lose?”

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment.

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red.

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages.

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes.

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.”

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away.

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?”

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.”

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?”

You nod.

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart.

“You pushed her away?”

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…”

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.”

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes.

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head.

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating.

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly.

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.”

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight.

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins.

You scoff.

“You are.” He kisses you again.

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home.

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.”

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.”

You touch his cheek lightly.

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?”

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.”

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper.

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance.

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted.

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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#poe dameron #star wars sequels #poe dameron x reader #x reader #poe dameron x you #x you #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #poe dameron x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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demonpiratehuntress · 2 months

Note

I see you have requests opened! If you don’t mind, I’d love an Ace one.

You’re a mermaid who rescues ace when he falls overboard drunk one night. His brilliant idea is to keep falling overboard to keep being rescued by you to get your attention cuz he can’t think of any other way. The crew thinks he’s insane and stands by in case he actually doesn’t get saved. To the point reader is like you do know there are other ways to see me besides trying to kill yourself?

this is actually such a funny and cute idea, i love it XD sorry it took so long, and i hope you like it!

taglist - @kabloswrld

(i'm so sorry i forgot i had someone to tag! if anyone else wants to be added just let me know!)

just call me, idiot

Portgas D. Ace x Mermaid!Reader

summary - idiot Ace <3

warnings - mentions of drowning, one joke about Ace trying to kill himself

You've heard them every night for the past week.

Whenever you swam up to the surface to look at the stars, the boisterous laughter and obnoxious chatter of men partying the night away aboard their ship met your ears. It was annoying, to say the least, but you wouldn't dare risk being ensnared by them for their amusement by calling them out for it.

That is, of course, until one of their crewmembers changed your mind about them.

"Man overboard!"

"The dumbass!"

"He can't swim!"

Your attention was caught one night when those panicked comments filled the air, and you looked towards the ship to see someone struggling in the water nearby. Against your better judgement, you swam over quickly and hooked your arms under the man's armpits, lifting him above the water so he could breathe. Once he was done spluttering and coughing up water, and you got a good look at him, you blushed.

He was handsome, extremely handsome. Dark hair stuck to his pale face, cute freckles dotting his cheeks. His eyes were bright with mischief, but when he smiled at you you couldn't help but think he looked angelic.

"A mermaid!" He gasped, eyes brightening even more. "This must be my lucky night." And he gave you a drunken smile, making you sigh.

You waited patiently for someone to come down to get him, keeping him afloat in the meantime since you couldn't very well climb aboard. Eventually they dropped a rowboat, and you carefully settled the now passed out man into it. You stayed to watch them pull him up, hearing shouts of 'thank you' but all you could focus on was how pretty that man was.

And how you hoped to see him again soon.

You got your wish the very next night, because Ace couldn't get you out of his head. He had been drunk, sure, but he definitely remembered seeing a mermaid. And he wanted to see you again, but he just didn't know how to get a mermaid's attention.

"You must have hit your head pretty hard to think you saw a mermaid!" Marco teased him, making the others laugh. None of them believed Ace, and every single one of them considered the idea absurd and insane - even more so since Ace is known for pulling pranks.

"But I did!" He insisted, pouting.

"Ace, there is no way you could have seen a mermaid," Marco sounded worried now. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the 2nd division commander grumbled. "But I'll prove it."

So his brilliant idea to prove it? To pretend he was drunk again and fall overboard, so you could come and save him again.

You came to his rescue again, sure enough, but this time Ace could see you clearly and he was awestruck by your beauty. For once the talkative commander was stunned into silence, and he just stared at you for the longest time until you blushed and looked away.

"We need to stop meeting like this," you told him, laughing softly. "You need to be more careful."

"You're so beautiful," he ignored your warning, smiling like a lovestruck sailor - which he was. "Really, really beautiful."

You blushed some more, "Because I'm a mermaid."

"I'd like to think that even if you weren't, I'd still have fallen for you."

Your eyes widened at his words, butterflies blooming in your gut. Your face flushed a bright red, and for a moment you were speechless. Then you remembered he belonged on land, and quickly helped him back to his ship.

"You should stop falling into the sea," you told him, "You're a devil fruit user aren't you? You could die."

"It would be worth it to see you again," he smiled, and you were concerned that he was actually serious.

"Just go," you laughed.

"Not without getting your name," he replied. "Please?"

You sighed, "It's (Name)."

"Pretty," he grinned. "I'm Ace."

And once he was gone up again, you couldn't help but feel a longing for the man you couldn't have. Little did you know, he was thinking the exact same about you. You never left each other's minds, and while you could only wish to see him again, Ace made it his personal mission to see you whenever he could.

He ignored your words and kept falling into the ocean, so much so that it became a habit of his, just to see you. You could tell soon enough that he was doing it on purpose and wasn't really drunk, but he would never listen when you told him to stop. What made it even funnier, though, was that you could see his crewmates gather around every time he committed to this dramatic method, all of them ready to jump in and stop the dumbass from drowning if needs be. They clearly still assumed he was insane.

"Ace," you giggled one night after saving him again, "There are better ways to see me, you know."

"Like how?" He pouted.

"You could just call me, idiot," you laughed, handing him a shell. "Just blow into that and I'll come. You don't have to try and kill yourself to see me."

He chuckled, holding the shell close, "Fine, I'll stop. I think my crew is starting to worry that I've completely lost it. They stand by waiting to see if one of them needs to jump in." He laughed, then gave you a warm smile, "But my hero never fails to rescue me."

You blushed, looking down shyly, "Well it would be a shame to let such a handsome sailor drown."

"You think I'm handsome?" He smirked, moving closer. The two of you were sitting in the rowboat his crew lowered for you, so it was easy for you to be this close without him drowning.

"I do," you blushed more.

His smile only widened before he leaned in and slowly captured your lips with his, one his warm hands gently gripping your chin as he kissed you. The butterflies returned, and you kissed him back just as slowly and sweetly as your hand rested on his arm.

"So we don't need to keep standing here every time the idiot throws himself overboard?" Someone called from above, breaking your kiss and making you both laugh.

"Not anymore, no. Because the idiot will NOT keep throwing himself overboard," you responded, smiling.

"But-"

"It's not worth dying Ace!"

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you #one piece ace

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fanaticsnail · 1 month

Text

Sapsorrow Chapter 8

Masterlist Here, Sapsorrow Masterlist Here

Word Count: 10,700+

"Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it" Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope.

Starlight

(Image Source: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/462322717990096069/)

Tag List: @maybe-a-bi-witch @fuzzyfestcat @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @be-good-please @little-bunnybabe @sukilovesyou @acehyacinth @andriannag @one17 @canthebest1 @khaleesihavilliard @hungrhay @sentieence @lebanese-afg-ya @captaincupio @szired @sexc-snail @alphaash99 @mfreedomstuff @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrs-wolfwood @jaguarthecat @marsbars09 @vespidphoenix @cinnbar-bun

Notes: Thank you to @i-am-vita for her banner! Oh, boy. This is a big chapter. Next chapter will be MDNI, 18+. Thank you for your patience with me working at this. Two more chapters to go!

Song Suggestions: Young and Beautiful - Je suis Parte & Por Una Cabeza - Carlos Gardel

The ship swayed over the cloudy swell of darkened waves, shepherding the vessel away from the Kuraigana port and to a location your captain deemed appropriate for a newlywed bride to be hidden away from her husband.

Captain Buggy D Clown was not one to shy away from anything, especially not when something as interesting as causing drama and theatrics at the expense of Lord Dracule Mihawk was present. He was eager to present this challenge, whether you or Mihawk were also eager was a completely different tale entirely.

Within the Captain’s quarters aboard the Big-Top, you struggled with the back of your dress: uncinching the rigging your ward managed to tie for you to keep your body contained within its material. A huffed and agitated smile awoke on your face, picturing this struggle in comparison to the one to come after your starlight ensemble. If the moon was as difficult to rid from your body, you could not imagine how taxing the sun would be over your skin and concealing you from your husband.

Husband. You have a husband now. A husband that would be more than agitated to know you were now out to open seas and venturing to unknown horizons, away from the celebration he carefully curated for you.

“-Everything alright in here, Starlight?” the nasally crack of Buggy’s voice cut through the wooden door, “‘Ya need help?” You chuckled darkly, attempting to pry the material from you to no avail.

“Actually, Captain,” your voice held a frantic wave within its tone, “I think I do. The back is snagged, and I can’t get the damn thing off of me.” The door slowly creaked open, after a gentle rap alerted you he was to do so. You turned yourself away to conceal your exasperation from him, the stutter in your hands giving away your agitation as you continued to fumble over the ribbons at the rear of your dress.

“Do you trust me, Doll?” you heard his voice alarmingly close to your body, enough to cause a hitch in your throat. You glanced over your shoulder, witnessing Buggy’s teal eyes glancing up through his eyelashes and lips parting in concern.

“Considering you have robbed me of my wedding night with my beau,” your warning tone cut through the air as swift as a guillotine, “Spirited me away from the unity celebrations, and-,” you huffed, turning back around and glaring out of the bay window, “Confined me to spend this time alone and isolated from all those I hold most dear: I hardly deem you worthy of my trust presently, Captain.”

Buggy’s gasp was melodical and pitched up two octaves higher than his usual cadence. You could feel the waves of anxiety rising within his shoulders and expressed through several strangled breaths.

“I-I’m sorry, Lady Dracule. I didn’t think of it from your perspective and how my actions would-.” Whatever else Captain Buggy D Clown spoke after the first four words meant very little to you. Your mind looped them repetitively, the call and roll of the words felt both surreal and magical, you could hardly think about anything else.

“-Would’ve rather stayed on shore, it would be less flashy and make the chase all the less desperate. We could turn back if-,” Buggy’s words halted as he glanced back into your eyes, noticing the distant expression with a melancholy sorrow eclipsing your painted features. “...-Are you alright, my Lady Dracule?” he asked you.

“Lady Dracule,” you repeated, your brows forming a pillar at the center of your forehead and causing a small swell to mist your eyes, “I’m Lady Dracule, now.” Buggy took a moment to glance over your features, noticing this shift of emotion permeating through your stance.

Apprehensively, he reached his hand forward and gently caressed your shoulder. The gentle squeeze broke you out of your circulating mind, looking down and meeting the eyes of the cerulean-haired captain.

“Can I help you out of this dress and into the assortment I crafted for you, my lady?” Buggy asked softly, watching as you nodded in affirmation for his fingers to set to work.

“I’ll get this off in just a minute,” he whispered, his index fingers hooking through the loops in your back and slowly releasing the garment’s hold over your body, “And then we can think about your hair, and retouch your makeup. I’ll get Cabaji to bring us a bottle of the wine we swiped from the reception, too.”

You allowed a soft giggle to fall from your parted lips, the relief from being rid of the tightness of your dress while knowing you were in capable hands. As Buggy’s fingers aided you in being free from your garment, while respectfully aiding you into the new dress, your mind wandered to your husband and what he was doing in this moment. Did he notice your departure, or was he enjoying your joint celebrations in solitude?

“Where,” Mihawk’s yellow eyes glared accusingly around the guests through narrowed lenses, “Is,” he advanced, Yoru drawn with the pointed tip threatening the jugular of the Captain of the Red-Force, “My wife.”

Lord Dracule Mihawk, distracted momentarily by his guests and acquaintances upon exiting the ceremony space, sought out your hand to claim within his. He blindly reached beside him, outstretching his desperate hands to shepherd you to his side, his fingers brushing nothing but air in its wake.

He noticed your absence immediately.

“Easy now, mate,” Shanks raised his arms, noticing several members of his crew withdrew their concealed weaponry and aimed it at the enraged former warlord, “Easy, easy. She’s safe, I swear this to you.”

“Where is she?” Mihawk spat, his feet sliding into an assaulting stance, interweaving his body to draw closer to the red-head’s teasing face, “What have you done with her?”

“She’s with Buggy- Oi, relax,” Mihawk’s pupils narrowed, his eyes wide and wild at the knowledge departing from Shanks’ lips, “She’s safe, it’s all a part of appeasing the tradition.” Shanks attempted to soothe over the growing temper Mihawk was steadily elevating, gesturing for his crew to holster their weaponry.

“What tradition?” Mihawk barked, pressing the sharpened tip of Yoru deeper into Shanks’ neck, not quite puncturing the skin.

“We just wanted it to be perfect, Hawk-Eyes,” Shanks’ hazelnut eyes bore with no utterance of mistruth within his orbs, “And you’re a native to Kuraigana, born and raised here. This is us following your traditions to the absolute letter: crossed ‘t’s and dotted ‘i’s, mate.”

“Y-You’ve,” Mihawk stumbled over his words, darting his frantic eyes between Shanks’, “You’ve kidnapped my bride?”

“You want the map to her, Lord Mihawk?” the rational voice of Shanks’ first mate rumbled through the tense air, “I had the clown make one up, for all our sakes.” Mihawk snapped his eyes away from Shanks’ to bear into the soul of Benn Beckman. As their eyes met, Beckman fished out the tanned envelope and offered it out gruffly towards the broody and aggravated newlywed groom.

“And, are you all to just sit here and wait until I bring back my bride?” He barked at the Red-Hair crew, “Or are you coming to witness me suffer through this act of degrading humiliation?” Mihawk growled, eagerly searching through the crowd to see any contenders to refute his beckoning challenge.

“You should take your wards,” Shanks suggested, weaving his body away from the steely tip of Yoru’s point, “Your two witnesses to view your wooing.”

Zoro leant down into Perona’s ear, his brow knit with puzzlement and concern.

“I don’t follow, what is going on? Where’s our governess now?” Zoro quietly grunted into Perona’s ear, a giggle arising with her retort.

“Are you truly not following, or are you just saying that to be an imbecile?” Perona smirked, glancing up into Zoro’s serious eyes, “O-Oh, you’re serious? Okay!” Zoro patiently awaited his promised explanation, Perona thinking of the simplified version of this complex tradition to relay to him.

“In Kuraigana culture, the bride is either stolen or whisked away at a point in the evening - generally after the reception feast so the food doesn’t get cold. It looks like it’ll be a while yet before we get something to eat-,” Perona’s train of thought was broken with a growl from the green-haired apprentice.

“-Get on with it, Perona,” Zoro’s voice cut through the air gruffly, his eyes darting the surroundings for a clue of his governess’ whereabouts.

“Oh, alright. Sorry, Zoro,” Perona giggled, shaking her head and preparing her words to present once again, “The bride is then hunted by the groom and they share a moment where he must perform a task or a demonstration of artistic skill to woo and entertain his new bride. Considering she is no longer under the shroud of her own family name, but a whole new person in this case: Lady Dracule, he must win her heart under this new banner and usher her into her new life with him.”

“So, what? Is he gonna dance or something?” Zoro asked, puzzled and taken aback by the absurdity of the tradition, “Or is he gonna challenge her to a sword fight? What can he do that would woo her?”

“Zoro-...” Perona again giggled, shaking her head with a warm smile drawing her cheeks up beneath its radiance, “...-Mihawk sings.”

“Mihawk sings?” Zoro snapped his eyes over to Dracule Mihawk, watching as the lord of Kuraigana’s lips curled into a sinister snarl and brows furrowed deeper into rage.

“Two witnesses, no more,” Mihawk growled, placing the mighty blade upon his back and rolling his neck, “And we shall return within the hour.”

“Only if she’ll have you, mate,” Shanks’ grin playfully split his face, “You have to woo her. Humble yourself before her. This is your opportunity to actively pursue her,” the redhead stepped forward, clapping his right hand over Mihawk’s left shoulder.

“You never got the chance. Use this time to show her how much you want her, and then,” Shanks’ grin turned sly, glancing at Beckman who shook his head and fished out a cigarette from his breast pocket, “That’s when we can show you how radiant she is, all wrapped in sunlight.”

Mihawk’s rumbled growl cut through the air, turning on his boot heels and gesturing to Perona and Zoro with his index finger, “You two, with me. Let us depart and reclaim my bride.”

“Aye, sir,” Perona and Zoro spoke in unison, immediately springing into action and readying themselves for a short journey to find, woo and claim you with your title as Lady Dracule.

Mihawk’s fuming rage catapulted him into a near frenzy, working with haste to unroll the sails and weigh anchor, using the tide to carry his small ship and snarling at the crudely crafted map.

“This better be accurate for your sake, clown,” Dracule Mihawk spat, scrunching the map and thrusting it into his shirt pocket with his left hand. Upon withdrawing his hand from his pocket, he hovered it above his face, staring at how delicately the band of unity was glimmering under the light of dusk.

It felt balanced, as if this broad band was awaiting the day he would finally wield it atop his finger. As if his life was waiting for this moment to start, for this new role and purpose for his life to fulfill. He hardened his resolve, throwing off his outer coat and withdrawing his sleeves to his elbows. He will find you, and find you quickly.

And when he does, he will woo you.

If the moon-dress was the prelude to a masterpiece in composition, this dress would be a symphony to stand the test of time. Material as pastel as the celestial rocks littering the night sky sporadically danced across the midnight material depicting the sky at nightfall. In the dim light within the cave Buggy had chaperoned you into, the dress almost looked as if it was producing its own light.

“This is the most extravagant thing I have ever done with my life,” Buggy huffed a chuckle through his comment, “And that’s truly saying something, my lady. I’ve never done anything like this, and I’m almost jealous that I won’t be the one wearing it.”

“You’re more than welcome to borrow it for a performance, Captain,” you giggled, looking down at your arms that had been ornately decorated with chained droplets of beaded glass, “It is simply breathtaking.”

Glancing over at yourself in the reflective walls of the cave you had found yourself in, your hair was now softly falling in waterfalls against your back and your makeup retouched by the clown and his enthusiastic crew. You could hardly recognise the woman gazing back at you.

“As breathtaking as you are, my lady,” Buggy whispered while adjusting your hair over your shoulders, “And hopefully enough to get me back into your good graces?” He shifted his eyebrow upwards, glancing hopefully over your shoulder with widened eyes and fluttering eyelashes.

“You’re not out of the thick of it yet, dear captain,” you playfully taunted him, nose scrunched and smile growing, “It’s not only I you need to appease.”

As if on queue, a small commotion was occurring outside the cave. Elevated voices, a shuffling of feet and the clang of harsh metal meeting rock reverberated within the cave mouth: silence following such an abrasive sound.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Buggy repeated hurriedly, excitement and anxiety dancing in a dangerous fight for dominion over his cadence, “You take a seat on your throne and look all pretty,” he gestured with his hands flailing outwards, “I’ll finish lighting the candles,and then I’m gonna flee as fast my legs can carry me to give you two some privacy.”

You laughed at his excitement, turning and drawing up your heavy skirts to fan out atop the velvet-covered throne Buggy had placed down for you. Frantic clicks of flint and steel, a string of nasally curses, and a shifting of boot-heels tripping over themselves as Buggy set the final elements of his role in the ruse awaiting your spouse.

“Okay, I’m gonna-... woah,” Buggy’s words halted as he turned to view you on your throne, sitting with the elegance and radiancy that you had drilled into your many students over your career as a governess.

“‘Woah’, what, Captain Buggy?” you huffed out a small laugh, watching his eyes shifting over each element of your ensemble.

“Y-You know,” he stuttered, shifting his feet as if under the spell of hypnosis, “You’re not technically married if you haven’t consummated your union. You can always run away with me if you want to-.”

“Buggy,” you scolded him, your laughter now falling unwithheld from your lips, “For one: I am not cut out for a path of traveling piracy,” your smile continued to decorate your lips with its radiancy, “And two: I am in love with Dracule Mihawk, my husband.” That final confession shocked you, not admitting those words aloud to yourself or another before this very moment.

“Right, right, of course,” he laughed at himself, studying his handiwork as your skirts pooled over your feet and down the slight elevation over the rocks. The voices within the mouth of the cave continued to draw ever nearer, the agitation and anger almost tangibly felt the closer they came.

“This is where I take my leave, my lady,” he nervously chuckled, looking to the cave mouth with his lips split into a straight wincing line, “If I stay, the broody asshole will likely attempt to take my head and throw me into the sea.”

“In that case,” you smiled, bowing your head low to the clown, “This is where I thank you for the part you played in ensuring this day was a possibility.” Buggy gasped at your bow, taking a final moment to study you as you rose from your seated curtsey.

“You are so beautiful, my lady,” he whispered, bowing to you before turning on his heels and uttering a final sentence before picking up his sprint, “Congratulations on your successful ceremony. Save me a dance at your reception.”

Chuckling at his fleeing form, you were left in only a butterfly’s wing of solitude before three figures almost stampeded within the decorated hollow of the cave. Each of them halted, eyes wide and jaws slack as they took in their surroundings.

The ground was littered with candelabras, all lengthy wicks lit. Lighting a pathway towards the throne, tealights scattered the floor beside a long stretch of the softest white carpet. Upon the edge of the carpet, the material of your skirts pooled and the unnatural light of several stones attached to the hem illuminated the floor. Dark material shifts into soft lights at each subtle movement from your body, the stones on your arms providing a small ringing melody as you offer them a small, coy wave.

Perona’s smile rose on her cheeks, recovering the fastest of the three as she offered you a similar wave in return for your own. Zoro snapped his lips shut, smirking as he glanced between you and your beau who continued to be stupefied beneath this new radiant presentation.

“I have found you,” Mihawk whispered after taking a small moment to recover, “My bride, my beloved.” You smiled wider, taking a moment to study your husband as he began taking small and intentional steps towards you.

Perona hastily and quietly ushered Zoro over to the side, taking a seat on a large boulder and tapping the surface beside her in a gesture for Zoro to sit beside her. Without removing his eyes from the scene unfolding before him, he quickly sat on the stone and awaited Mihawk’s every chosen moment.

Electing to remain silent, you watched and hung onto every movement, utterance and breath produced as he continued on towards you. Before he fell within your proximity, he halted and inhaled a shaken breath as he humbly knelt with both knees on the floor, his hands laced and placed within his lap. Your breath hitched, eyes darted between his honey-coloured eyes which then immediately snapped shut.

He deeply inhaled a breath, his eyes remaining closed as he focussed on his movements. He lilted a rumbled hum, a tune unfamiliar to you produced from his nose and serenading you with its melody. Mihawk was singing, and he was singing for you.

“Never I’ve known love like this,

As vibrant as the seas.

I’ll sheathe my blade, and disarm my shield,

For a chance just to please.”

His eyes remained shut, lips almost cautiously relaying the lyrics as he produced them. After the small verse produced, his words waved more confidently through his lips and enunciated each spoken lyric.

Perona attempted to silence her elation by slapping her hand over her lips, her other hand finding Zoro’s knee and giving it a firm squeeze to express her excitement physically. Zoro was not faring much better, his own shock written on his face he could barely notice Perona’s hand on his knee as he gripped his thighs to stifle his surprise at Mihawk’s skillful melody.

“The way your lips summon me,

The way your eyes hold promise,

May your bed never be empty,

Should dawn be upon us.”

Mihawk’s eyes opened, his breath hitching as he witnessed the longing gaze you were offering to him. Your eyes swelled with emotions, lips parting and drawing up in a melancholy smile. Mihawk offered you a small, bashful smile as he continued to sing to you.

Your eyes never left Mihawk for a minute, watching as he knit his brows together and continued to utter promises through melody towards you.

“I will share my days with you,

For this to you I swear.

Nightfall I be by your side,

For it’s not yours alone to bear.”

He rose his knee from his kneeling into a lunge, bowing his head down and removing his hat from his head. A final promise uttered lyrically from within his skilled melody, you holding onto each word.

“The seas and sword were my first love,

The training alone be vast.

Although you were not my first to love,

May we both be each's last.”

Mihawk sucked in a baited breath, awaiting a small reprimand or disciplinary comment regarding his abilities. He was no singer nor composer, the lyrics produced alongside the melody were spur of the moment. His skills were of the sword, not of poetry and lyricism.

“Do my words and melody please you?” Mihawk whispered, his eyes holding firm to the floor as his dark curls bobbed to a lower bow, “Will you allow me the luxury of my heart, my body and my soul joining with yours, Lady Dracule?”

He elevated his head, his eyes softening and rapidly blinking to stifle the rising beat of his heart as he remained in his humility. A man such as he was not accustomed to humbling himself before anyone, doing precisely as he pleased and when he pleased to do it. With you, this was uncharted and untested waters. He was in love, and would spend the rest of his days romancing you should you ask it of him.

Truthfully, he was prepared to offer his adoration, praises and romance to you at all hours whether you asked it of him or not.

“You may have me, I am yours,” you answered him after several moments of pregnant pause, rising to your feet and offering him your right hand to take with his left, “Just as you are mine.” Mihawk released a breath he did not know he was withholding from his chest, the weight rolling off his shoulders and having him relax beneath your admission.

He took this moment to study your carefully painted lashes, noticing the subtle hints in tints and hues decorating your skin at the hands of the genius jester. The stars were reflected in your eyes, the pigments complimenting the change in darkened material pooling over your dress.

“C-Can I,” he fell over his words, closing his eyes and mentally scolding himself for his stumble, “Can I kiss you, my lady?” A small squeak from the corner of the room had you both break from your illusion that this corner of reality was not yours alone to share. You also had two witnesses.

Mihawk snapped his eyes over to the two words sitting happily on the boulder beside the decorated floor, scolding them with a single pointed look. At his momentary shift of focus, you used the opportunity to rise from your sitting position on the throne Buggy sourced for you and stooped down to collect Mihawk’s chin between your index finger and thumb.

You shifted his face back, witnessing the momentary shock as he gazed into your eyes. With a soft smile, you lowered your face and collected his lips with your own. Although he was kneeling, Mihawk was a tall individual. This position did not have your neck aching at its stoop, but was comfortable as you slowly pressed more of yourself against the former warlord.

Mihawk wrapped his arms around your waist, bunching the fabric within his hands and holding you firmly pressed against him. He parted his lips, his tongue darting out to dampen your bottom lip as he squeezed your hips within his wide fingers. You hummed against his lips, your fingers raking over his beard to entangle within his curled locks. He smiled into the kiss, rising from the floor and fully bracing himself against you with his forearms circling your waist.

The ruffles of the skirts below you illuminated several of the rocks littering the material, a gasp fleeing from Perona the longer she stared at the balled objects adoring the fabric.

“The rocks light up when they move!” she hushed her whisper to Zoro who waved his hand to silence her as he witnessed the loving embrace between his lord and lady. Although Zoro would never admit it aloud, he was enjoying every minute of witnessing such joy between two people he held most dear.

Breaking from the kiss, your eyes half lidded as they gazed up at your husband. His expression mirrored your own, gazing lovingly down at you with a soft smile gently creasing the corners of his eyes.

“Let’s go home,” Mihawk whispered, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead and hovering his lips over your skin as he cradled your head against his chest, “I hope Shanks and his crew have left as some wine.”

“I’m more concerned about the food,” you giggled, prompting Mihawk to break away from your forehead and smooth his hands over your hair, “All I’ve had to eat and drink today is that single piece of honeycomb, a glass of wine for breakfast, that small sip of unity wine shared with you, and a glass of wine with the clown when he prepared me in this ensemble.” His eyes widened, looking into your smiling face in shock. You laughed up at him, raising your hand up to caress his cheek.

“You’ve only had wine and honeycomb for the whole day, my beloved?” his tone held a small air of caution within.

“Yes, my heart,” you huffed out a small sigh of laughter at witnessing his agitation. Although his anger never left, the small twitch of his lip and hitch in his breath indicated his pleasure of receiving such a high honor of that title.

“Well that will simply not do,” he growled, shifting you in his grip to slip his arm around your waist and usher you through the cave mouth, “I have some sourdough and salted butter on the ship. We’ll break into that before we partake in the reception feast.” You smiled up at your husband, watching as he wordlessly gestured for your two wards to follow behind you.

Where Perona could not stop staring at your dress, the only thing within Zoro’s focus was how you looked up at Mihawk, and how Mihawk looked down at you. The love you held for each other within that expression alone had a pang sound within his heart, and caused soft doubts to shift his perspective.

Whether spoken aloud to you or not, Zoro’s quest in becoming the world's greatest swordsman would one day rip this fresh union apart. He would kill Mihawk to claim that title, and that would surely mean the destruction of your happiness.

As you made your way through the sandy coast and onto Mihawk’s vessel, Zoro continued to seek out different ways to achieve his goals and leave you both to thrive in your happiness.

From the peaceful drift into the Kuraigana port, to the reunification with your guests, Mihawk would not allow you a moment to break away from him. Hollars and cheers at your arrival were quickly silenced as they took in the next aspect of your ensemble.

Now exposed under the light of the moon, at each small movement of your legs beneath the dark skirt, the illumination of bioluminescent rocks shook and roared to life. The fanning material danced at your feet, the weight of the many layers of broad skirts heavy upon each footstep. You truly appreciated Mihawk’s presence at your side to enable you to lean against him for support each time the gown pulled at your waist and hips.

Your bodice was encrusted with similar trails of glassy stones, the overlaying chains from your neck to your waist forming the unity of constellations between both yours and Mihawk’s birth signs. Buggy had put an excessive amount of thought into such a piece, pooling all his knowledge to provide you the best reiteration of starlight he could truly muster.

The outdoor reception space was littered with soft strings of light, a circular wooden floor elevated a step up as a makeshift dance area. Several clusters of seats were available off to the sides of the wooden floor they were standing on, where a small quartet of musicians lay off to the side of the area and softly painting the air with their melodical portraiture.

Mihawk paid his guests little mind, other than a curt nod or a subtle smile to your former students. The many staff continued to present platters of bite-sized ensembles, each small taste of food attuned to both yours and Mihawk’s refined palates. Each time a tray was presented to you, you would break your conversation away from your guests and thank the staff with a warm smile on your face.

As he showcased you to his guests, he watched as the fatigue of the day was slowly catching up with you. The little stumble of your feet under the weight of the dress, the small waver in your smile when you assumed none were watching, the way you clung to his side: he was observant of your every moment and there at your side to catch you should you fall. He was yours to do with what you will, clay awaiting molding into the husband you desired him to be.

Music began to play at a more elevated volume, the guests encouraging you with a soft cheer to get you to open the dance floor together. Mihawk looked subtly off to you, noticing you were struggling beneath the layers of your skirts. No matter how vast your training in becoming a debutant yourself, nothing could have prepared you to carry the amount of weight from rocks of various shapes and sizes.

“Beloved, are you-,” Mihawk began, his short question being stolen from him by the nasally interruption of Captain Buggy D Clown.

“-If I may, my lady Dracule,” Buggy’s broad, painted smile laid brilliantly over his lips, “I have a small surprise for you.”

“Oh?” you asked, brows elevating up your forehead in curiosity.

“Your resume presented to the world government several years back indicated you were an excellent dancer, trained the best of them attending here today, in fact,” he complimented you bowing in a low and crouched stoop.

“I am a competent dancer, yes,” you admitted, eyeing him curiously as he picked at your hem with his gloveless fingers, “And I do enjoy the movement when the moment is called upon.”

“Then it would be such a shame should the moment be taken from you under the weight of this dress, my lady,” Buggy smirked up at you, a silver object playfully juggling between his fingertips. Before you realized what the object was, Buggy precautioned both you and Mihawk, “Bird-Boy, stand back. My lady, close your eyes and hold your breath.”

Immediately doing what you were told, you heard the ignition of a flint-lighter and the warm flash of open flame illuminating your eyelids to a deep crimson color. Gasps and screams from your guests informed you of all you needed to comprehend at this moment.

Captain Buggy D Clown had lit your dress on fire.

A wild rush of heat expanded over the base of your skirt, the tongues of blaze lapping at your skin and immediately cooled with bursts of icey air. As you felt the rising warmth begin to die down, you opened your eyes to witness the small, illuminant rocks burst and break to soothe over the licks of flame. Upon each burst of impact, the color of your dress would change to a crisp white, to a warm blue, down to a dark hue of red, all the way to a dim purple.

At the last burst of rock sparking and spurting over the gown, the arrangement that remained was a softer, pale dress that halted just below your knees. The slit from the hem on your left side tastefully elevated to just below the angle your thigh met at the curvature of your hips. The dress fanned out, dipping in at your waist and cinching in your bust. There were no remaining rocks nor combustive fabric on your body, much to your delight.

After you adjusted to your new weight distribution, feeling lighter and more energetic already, the picture you were left with standing before you was Buggy’s throat being impaled on the smaller blade formerly hung around your husband’s neck. Your eyes widened and your body moved faster than your mind did to halt the scene unfolding before you.

“First you kidnap my wife, now you light her on fire?” Mihawk barked, slashing at his throat while Buggy stuttered over his words, “It seems as if you are trying so desperately to get me to kill you, Clown. I should have you flogged and cast into the seas for your idiocy-.”

“-My heart, I am unharmed,” your voice broke him away from his heavy threats, his hands immediately withdrawing from the clown to cradle your cheeks within his palms. You kept your face calm, reassuring him with your expression alone that you remained unaltered and unharmed.

He floated his eyes between yours, briefly dipping to your lips before withdrawing back up to your eyes. You nodded within his hands in an act to reassure him further, your smile never faltering. After a hushed moment’s pause, Mihawk could no longer contain himself.

Hastily, he dipped his face down, lips colliding with yours and drawing several cheers from your guests. He hungrily consumed your lips, molding and shaping them beneath his with the desperation you were yet to see its equal. He swooped his hands behind your head, collecting the soft waves Buggy had created for you in fistfuls as he desperately joined his lips with yours. You slowly raked your hands over his waist, holding him close and reassuring him with soft circles against his body with your thumbs.

Squeaking against his lips at a small tug of your hair, Mihawk immediately loosened his aggressive grasping of your against you, and softly traced his fingertips over your jaw and set to cradle the scruff of your neck. The world faded from existence the longer Mihawk held you against his lips, folding himself against you and holding you in momentary blissful stasis.

Withdrawing his lips from yours, he gazed into your eyes while briefly panting to catch his breath. Shock eclipsed your features the exact moment you broke away, the cheers from your guests ignited the silence within the ringing of your ears.

“That was a good ‘en, Hawkie!” Shanks swayed in his speech as he slurred in his stupor, “Do it again!”

“Quiet down, Captain,” Beckman grunted, gently clapping Shanks on the shoulder, “That’s our exterminator you’re talking about. She deserves a little more respect than you’re offering the both of them presently.”

“Right, right. I’ll switch to water for a bit, Becks,” Shanks nodded, looking over at his crew and gesturing to the water barrels with his tankard. Mihawk never strayed his eyes from your features, constantly ensuring you were unharmed from the prior blaze.

“May I dance with you, my beloved?” Mihawk quietly offered, removing his hand from your neck and apprehensively outstretching his hands to you. You smiled at his soft gesture, immediately placing your right hand within his left and allowed him to chaperone you onto the dance floor.

At the swell of music, you hastily pressed your right hand against Mihawk’s left shoulder while he elevated your right hand to extend to the side. His left hand found the middle of your waist and pulled you against himself.

You carefully extended your left knee over Mihawk’s leg, the slit withdrawing itself tastefully to reveal your thigh to your guests. At that gesture, Mihawk immediately readjusted his stance: shifting to claim the base of your thigh within his hands as he awaited the appropriate rhythm to dictate his momentum.

“The Clown read your resume,” Mihawk smirked down at you, beginning to shift and maneuver you effortlessly within his arms, “But alas, I have not.” He nudged you with his left hand, following his lead by twirling your body within his arms and releasing his hold over you.

Both legs now firmly on the ground, you shifted your hips and began to rhythmically follow the melody rising with your feet. Holding your arms perpendicular to the ground, Mihawk collected your left hand and pressed a small kiss atop your wrist before raking his digits over your forearm.

“You never read my resume before you hired me?” You called over your shoulder, as he raised your left hand to cradle his neck behind you.

“Never,” Mihawk smiled, placing his right hand over your right and his left over your stomach. He began ushering you both with a rapid sway of his steps, a maneuver you flawlessly followed with each stride. He twirled you away, holding contact with your right arm before reclaiming it in his left hand.

“Then,” your puzzled expression remained atop your features as you once again faced Mihawk, “Why was I hired here? What drew you to me?” Your beau’s smile elevated, his eyes cracking at the corners as his nose scrunched upwards.

“Truthfully, my beloved,” he confessed, leaning forwards to indicate for you to fall backwards in your steps, “I am not certain what drew me to you. A feeling, I suppose.”

“A feeling?” you elevated your eyebrow and smirked up at him, “Something as simple as a feeling?”

Mihawk chuckled, twirling you away from him and catching your forearms within his grip, ushering your back to meet his chest. You huffed out a small exasperated breath, shaking your head and swaying with him to the rhythm.

“A feeling,” you repeated in a whisper, attempting to not allow your disdain from presenting too prominently against your features. Mihawk released your right arm, leaning forward and collecting your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Allow me the luxury of rephrasing, my beloved,” Mihawk whispered, drawing your forehead to press against his while he moved his body from behind yours to face you once more.

Drawing up his left hand, he collected your right and his right hand found your back once more. His smile continued to highlight his face, a smile you had come to adore painted on his face beneath his mustache.

“From the moment I met you all those years ago, I adored you as a skilled governess,” he confessed, stepping backwards while you followed with your forward step, “The way you managed a variety of individuals: debutants, gentlemen and all those in between. Even the witless marines-.”

“-Mihawk,” your warning tone was broken with a small laugh, your smirking reprimand forming a smile over your lips, “Be kind.”

“Apologies, my beloved,” he snickered out a small chuckle, ushering for you to step outwards before hooking you back into his arms, “I never assumed you would accept a job at such short notice in the first place.”

“I had a lull in my waiting list,” you shrugged, turning to face him with a broader smile on your face, “And the stuttering scribbles were intriguing.” Mihawk laughed at your reference to his original summons for you to begin your tutelage of the two wards under his care.

As the melody swelled, he sighed out a breath, once again placing your forehead against his own and furrowing his brows. In a low whisper, he relayed his final confession to you. There was no room for humor, nor was there a place for the utterance of a lie within his breath.

“Before there was a possibility of joining with you in matrimony, I simply thought: ‘that was that. Time to live my life as an unmarried swordsman until the next generation rises up to claim that title from me’,” he smiled, halting his movement as the music ended its swell, “I never thought I would be training that aforementioned generation to take my life, nor did I imagine this twist of circumstances leading you to be within my arms now.”

You smiled a melancholy smile, only half elevated on your face at his confession. Trailing your hand over his shoulder, you extended it up to collect his whiskered cheek within your palm, soothing over his bottom lip with your thumb.

“And is this the life you wanted for yourself, Mihawk?” you whispered up at your beloved, searching his eyes for more truth within, “To live in momentary matrimonial peace before Zoro claims your title alongside your life?”

“This is the life that I have forged for myself,” he whispered against your thumb, pressing a kiss against the padded tip, “And I will hold onto it with every breath I still use to sustain my lungs. I love you, my wife. I am yours, and you are mine, for as long as we both shall live,” he withdrew your hand from his lips and circled it over his neck, “And for whatever comes next.”

“For whatever comes next,” you mirrored back with closed eyes and lips parted, “Sounds like an awfully exciting adventure, my heart.” Reopening your eyes, you witnessed the smile once again return to Mihawk’s lips.

At the music’s end, he swooped down to claim another kiss from you. Applause rang through the air, prompting you to part from the oscillation as hastily as you had it begin. The Red-Hair pirate crew and the Buggy-Pirates had begun offering each other their outstretched hands to lead them onto the dance floor.

You felt a small tap on your shoulder at the exact moment a soft, pale hand with pink-polished fingernails brushed with Mihawk’s own shoulder. You shook your head, confused as you were ushered into the awaiting arms and broad shoulders of Roronoa Zoro.

His smile was shallow, his mind plagued behind it with the smog of heavy thoughts. Extending out his hand, you took it and curtseyed as he bowed with you. Ushering you to circle the floor with a practiced waltz, Zoro continued to twirl you in silence.

“You have gotten much better, Zoro,” you complimented him, met with only a single hum in acknowledgement. You furrowed your brows, glancing between his bourbon-hued orbs while he refused to draw his gaze up to meet yours.

“Did you enjoy the drinks? I have yet to sample the wine presented at the reception-,” you were cut off as Zoro’s thoughts spoke atop your own.

“-I am going to claim his life from him, do you understand?” he gruffly commented, glaring over at Perona and Mihawk as he spun her within his arms with a broad grin and her unwithheld smile mirroring in return, “I intend to kill lord Dracule Mihawk.” You almost stumbled in your dance, recovering quickly as he continued to twirl you.

After taking a moment to collect your rapidly lashing thoughts, you inhaled a large gulp of breath and extended your exhale slowly through your lips.

“If that is what your destiny is leading you to fulfill,” you reached up your hand and collected his cheek, turning him to meet your eyes, “It is not for me to understand, nor is it my desire to halt you from achieving your goal.” He gasped at your words, stumbling over his feet and barely recovering.

“You won’t ask me not to?” Zoro’s breath hitched on his exhale, searching your eyes for any cause for further stumble, “You won’t plead for me to find a new goal? To settle for being second best and remain that way until we’re all cracked and graying?”

Giggling at his comment, you extended your arm out and circled it over his head: twirling the conflicted man within your arms.

“I married the ‘World’s Greatest Swordsman’, Dear,” you noted, your smile never wavering as you rejoined him within your arms, “It is an occupational hazard.”

Zoro’s surprise lingered on his features, his eyes misting over with the swell of emotions he did not prepare himself to express this night.

“And between us-,” you leant up to his ear, using this opportunity to draw him into a warm and encumbering embrace, “-I would rather it be you. You are someone we both trust,” you withdrew him from your arms and smiled whimsically up at him, “Someone who will grant him the luxury of a swift and merciful departure from this life, should you both be ready to take that step.”

Where you assumed he would grunt out a gruff groan, you were shocked when he leant further into your arms and circled his forearms around your waist. He nuzzled into your neck, his shoulders beginning to sink against the weight of his confliction.

“You trust me?” he choked within his soft whisper, “You trust me to give him an honorable death?” His shoulders shuddered within your arms, you immediately drew your hands up to caress his moss-coloured locks.

“Of course I trust you, Zoro. Just, if you were to grant me one simple favor,” he withdrew from your embrace, continuing to hold your waist as he stared down and awaited further instruction, “Please don’t kill him tonight?” Zoro’s laughter cut through the air, drawing many eyes over to your location as you joined him in his unbridled laughter.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my lady,” he chuckled, briefly joining his forehead against your own and scrunching his nose with his smile.

“Good boy,” you complimented him with a single tap on his shoulder, “And your dancing really has improved.” You nodded to his feet, noticing how effortlessly he was shepherding you throughout the movements.

“I learnt from the best, my lady,” he winked down at you, his golden drooped earrings glinting within the refraction of the lights.

As the melody crescendoed from one song into the next, you twirled from within Zoro’s arms and immediately met your right hand against a cool piece of metal, curving beneath your fingertips.

“If I may, my lady,” the cool rumble of Sir Crocodile reverberated within your chest and shot a tingle up your spine. Although no malice was withheld in his tone, the danger was always present with a man such as he.

“Sir Crocodile,” you nodded, focussing your body on allowing him to lead you throughout the floor, “I would like to take the opportunity to thank you for your beautiful dress you crafted for me.”

“I do plan on collecting that debt from the both of you, my lady,” he smirked down at you with a broad grin. His eyes held a bored malice within his purple orbs, hunching down to claim your body within his arms. The impressive height he towered over you had you feeling smaller within his grasp, an advantage you planned on gaining back from him with your wit.

“And what would you ask of me, Sir?” you smiled up at him, twirling within his arms and circling your body around his back. You drew your fingers over his flesh, watching the visible shudder arising beneath the movement, “I am a simple governess-.”

“-You are Lady Dracule, now,” he retorted, gazing down at you through the corner of his eyes, “A lady who has sway and leverage over a lord. A lady who holds the heart of such a man as he, the ‘World’s Greatest Swordsman’. A lady who-.” You hastily pressed your fingers atop the golden hook, your eyes baring dangerously into his own.

“-Who was and forever will be-,” your low tone had Crocodile taken aback at your statement, “-A simple governess.”

“And what would a simple governess be able to offer me?” his amused grin parted his lips and elevated his brows. The silvery mark over his cheeks and nose had the purple hues holding more danger within their orbs, “Music and dance lessons, I have hardly a use for.”

“A governess who has done all a governess could do here,” you smiled up at him, leading him into a twirl, your spin prompting almost a laugh to fall from his lips, “Tamed and trained two unruly youths, along with having one of the world’s most powerful men fall to their knees and beg to claim me as their own.”

The smirk of Sir Crocodile rose on his lips, his words beginning to form behind his teeth only to be halted by a final word of warning from you.

“Whenever you desire such a woman to perform such an impossible and improbable task as this,” you silenced him with your words, “You know where I will be.”

At that, you bowed a low curtsey to him and attempted to flee from his arms, only for the hook to catch the crook of your elbow and tug you back into his arms for his final words.

“An expert tamer of unruly individuals,” he whispered in your ear, the ghost of his last cigar lingering on his lips as his breath met with the shell of your ear, “I shall keep you in mind for when such a purpose arises.” Unclasping your arm from within his hook, Sir Crocodile took his leave of you with a final bow.

You shook off his words, the next partner finding themselves within your arms whipped their cerulean hair against your cheek as they spun you on your toes three times in a circle.

“I truly am sorry about the kidnapping, my lady,” Buggy uttered with a warm smile, “And I am only partly apologetic for the glorious blaze.” Although you had met both Buggy and Sir Crocodile at the same time, you felt much more comfortable being wielded within his arms than the experience prior.

Buggy released you, clapped his hands three times and stomped his feet rhythmically to the music. You laughed, mirroring his posture and his rhythm back at him. His eyes widened, heart swelling at you matching his exaggerated movements and prompting him to produce some far more elaborate motions.

He was a joy to dance with, his own starlight shining within his teal eyes and reflecting back onto his various assortment of formal attire. Although no longer wearing a frill-neck collar, his cravat had just as many ruffles fluffing at his jaw.

“I am not sorry in the slightest for either,” you admitted, your own nod and spin on your toes keeping Buggy mirroring your movements first before stepping in again to claim you in his arms.

“Not even the kidnapping?” he winced out a small apprehensive grin.

“No, it was an enjoyable experience,” you confessed, laughing in his arms as he assumed the waltz position and stepped in time to the swell of music, “I especially enjoyed the wine.”

“Then you have found the perfect match in Mihawk,” he nodded, scrunching up his nose at the thought, “Personally, I don’t know how you both drink that vinegary piss. I prefer the sweets to compliment and mask my saltiness. Rum is best.”

“I thank you for your compliments, captain,” you smiled at him.

“About the vinegary piss?” his brows furrowed in confusion, his smile scrunching into a soft pout. You laughed at his comment, shaking your head at him.

“About the perfect match,” you confessed, feeling the end of the music calling to you. Buggy chuckled, offering you a small bow before dismissively waving his hand at you and uncharacteristically turning on his heel.

You were puzzled at that final gesture, not understanding where such an expression was necessary before you felt a hand clasp around your waist.

“‘S not you, love,” the voice of a red-haired captain uttered beside you, “He still is hung up on our old childhood rivalry.”

“Ah,” you gasped in understanding with a curt nod, turning in his arm to face him. Dancing with Shanks was an occurrence you were privy to experiencing from time to time aboard the Red-Force with his crew. His attitude was always playful and light with you, always a gentleman.

“You truly look spectacular tonight, Vile Exterminator,” he complimented you, shifting his dancing position to usher you with his right hand in light of his missing left hand. Joining now both of your right hands, you both stepped in and out before twirling under his arm.

“Thank you, Red-Haired Rat,” you smirked at him, feeling a pair of eyes watching you dance within Shanks’ arms.

“I think the big man wants a word,” Shanks confirmed your suspicions, nodding over to his steel-haired first mate, extinguishing his cigarette with his boot heel against the gravel road beside the dancefloor. Shanks twirled you twice more before you were flung from his arm and into the awaiting and ill-practiced hands of Benn Beckman.

“Sorry, my lady,” he uttered, his legs awkwardly swaying him from side to side with you within his arms, “I’m no good at this formal dancin’. I don’t do this.”

“I know, Benn,” you smiled at him with a soft, close-lipped grin, “But I do appreciate the effort.” He hummed with a curt cough in response, truly feeling out of place with this genre of dance.

“About what’s to come,” he gruffly coughed, attempting to spin you on the dancefloor as easily as he could ask his body to perform such a skill, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” You sighed out a small huff of breath, shaking your head at him as he continued to explain to you.

“There’s a lot of knots,” he confessed with a winced, grimacing smile, “I mean, a lot of knots.”

“I trust you,” you shrugged, feeling his tension rising in his shoulders and stance. You halted the elaborate dance, ushering him off to the side of the dancefloor and opting to sway with him to the beat while he aired his concerns.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with the experience,” he confessed, the gray tint of his eyes holding you firmly within his vision, “Some of the knots are in-... -a few key places.”

Your rapid and unwavering blink told Beckman all he needed to know regarding his apprehension.

“It was my own fault for asking this in the first place, Benn,” you confessed again with a shrug, “And, I reiterate: I trust you. We’ve known each other for years, and of all those aboard the Red-Force,” you feigned a small hum of deep thought, before smiling up at the burly first-mate, “I do trust you the most.”

“I hope your trust isn’t misguided, my lady,” he grunted, your left hand being claimed by a presence at your side. The small, almost invisible smile, from Beckman informed you that the Rat was once again at your side.

“And, she’s mine again,” Shank’s playful tone cut in, peeling you away from Beckman and onto the dancefloor once more. He ushered you into a skilled twirl, your smile once again returning to your face as the swell of music reached the peak and began its crescendo towards the final.

As Shanks made to draw you into another embrace at his chest, you felt the tug of your waist pull you back within familiar and comfortable arms. A warm smile and a flush rose to your cheeks, humming as you lent into his chest.

“Missed me, beloved?” the man behind you held an air of confidence, turning you within his arms as you looked up at him through half-hooded eyes.

“Always, my heart,” you retorted, elevating your arms to seek out the nape of his neck. He hummed at your confession, mirroring your adoration down at you, “Shall we have a rest? Enjoy some mead and begin the fire?”

“A fire?” the elated voice of the cerulean-haired clown-captain called out in joy, “We’re having a fire like the good old days?” Shanks hesitantly walked beside Buggy, offering him a small smile and confirming with him.

“Just like the old days,” Shanks nodded, looking between Buggy and Mihawk, “Back when Roger made us collect the wood, but wouldn’t let us near the flint and steel.”

“And look who’s got the spark now, boys!” Buggy’s crackled cackle and his powerful stance prompted laughs to rise among the guests. Beckman shook his head, wordlessly directing the Red-Hair crew to begin building a fire for you and your husband to enjoy.

You nuzzled into the warm and exposed chest of your husband, feeling the weight shift from you against him as he slightly elevated you off your feet.

“I think sitting down is a good idea,” you confessed, looking down at your worn shoes and rapidly swelling feet from the elaborate dancing and carrying the weighty dress.

“Then that is what we will do, my beloved,” Mihawk smiled softly down at you, pressing his forehead against your own as he enjoyed the feeling of holding you in his arms once again.

Sitting within the arms of your husband, the crackle of the fire illuminated the guests that remained behind at the castle, some setting up bedrolls and pitching tents within the surroundings.

Mihawk hooked his arm around your shoulder, drawing you against himself and pressing soft kisses against your temple while whispering sweet phrases and poetry within your ear. His beard tickled at each short utterance, prompting a giggle to fall from not only the words, but the feeling of his beard against your skin.

Shanks was the first to notice the small lull in atmosphere, a fiendish grin finding purchase against his lips as he refilled his tankard from the barrel of mead.

“Alright, you lot. According to the customs of Kuraigana,” Shank’s stumbling and partially inebriated voice slurred, “We all know what comes next for you two. We’ve ‘gotta follow all of the traditions of the land. You know, so the ghostly hag is happy.”

“What are you implying, Red-Hair,” Mihawk’s prior warm tone cracked under its now icey exterior, “Surely you don’t mean-.”

“-Why the ‘Bedding Ceremony’ of course!” Shanks attempted to rise to his feet, stumbling backwards and momentarily sitting upon the lap of his first mate, who apprehensively caught him. “Thanks big man,” he mumbled, rising successfully to his feet and thrusting out his tankard, “You go up there with your Sunshine bride, and we wait out here and make as much noise as we can while you perform your husbandly duties.”

A warm flush rose to your cheeks, littering your face with the warmth of blood swelling to the tips of your ears. You could feel the rapid pulse beating in your eardrums, your heart stampeding your racing mind of all thoughts of what was yet to come.

“Then you come and rejoin us as one flesh,” Shanks concluded, saluting Mihawk with his broad tankard, “And we drink to the happy couple, and carry off our celebrations into the wee hours of the morn.”

“Is this truly a custom of this land, my heart?” you uttered quietly to the broody bearded man at your side, his attention snapping over towards you. His eyes softened as his heart swelled, lips parting while drawing up his right hand to caress your cheek.

“Unfortunately it is, my beloved,” he whispered with a half-smile, “And a custom we need not adhere to should you find discomfort in such a feat.”

You allowed a small giggle to fall from your lips, leaning into Mihawk’s gentle caress and pressing a soft kiss on the heel of his palm.

“It could be worse,” you allowed the giggle to rise in volume as your smile broadened, “In Germa-Kingdom, the guests watch the act while they throw sugar-coated almonds at the newlyweds in the hopes it will aid in producing male offspring.” You placed your hand over Mihawk’s, his still holding your cheek as his smile mirrored your own.

“I suppose this custom is not so bad, then,” Mihawk chuckled, rising to his feet and offering you out his hand, “Shall we, my beloved?”

“I suppose it is time,” you smiled in return, placing your hand within his and allowing him to hoist you up from your position on the log. Mihawk’s brows creased, mild agitation forming at the center of his forehead. Before you could ask him what was bothering him, he turned his head to Beckman: who was already rising to stand.

The blush returned as your eyes widened, almost forgetting what you had requested of the cursed moss-agate ring on your unity finger.

“Beckman,” Mihawk’s agitation growing in depth as the hoarse growl rumbled in his throat, “In light of the fact this is part of the covenant pact forged with the ring-.”

“-I would not lay a single finger unnecessarily on your wife, lord Mihawk,” Beckman’s whiskey voice hummed as he inhaled his cigarette to the filter end, “Would you prefer it be Shanks in his current stupor using his right hand and teeth?”

“Absolutely not,” Mihawk barked at the suggestion.

“Then I will make it quick and precise,” Beckman reassured him with a curt nod, “Follow up in twenty minutes, and your bride will be awaiting you to unwrap her within your marriage bed.”

Beckman outstretched the crook of his elbow, a satchel containing what you presumed to be your sun-dress shrugged over his shoulder. You apprehensively withdrew your hand from Mihawk’s, giving him one more longing look before you allowed yourself to be ushered into the halls of Castle Kuraigana.

You both walked in silence, unsure of what words needed to be spoken between you before you engaged in this next aspect of your night together. The silence was peaceful, the soft tranquility you had not experienced since beginning this venture of matrimony. You were almost thankful this moment was granted to you to share with one of your most respected acquaintances in your time as a governess.

He chaperoned you into the halls, finding the door that led into the suite allocated to both you and Mihawk as the lord and lady of Kuraigana. In the wake of the soft tranquility, anxiety at the anticipation of what’s to come awoke within your chest. Your heart elevated its rhythmic thundering, your mind beginning to swirl and race as the anticipation only grew.

“Take a moment, my lady,” Beckman’s soothing voice hummed at you, “All the time you need, alright? It’s a lot of changes to adjust to, and I would never dream of rushing you.”

“Thank you, Benn,” you exhaled, rolling your neck and attempting to stifle the rise in your anxious thoughts. After a few small breaths, you reopened your eyes and smiled to yourself as you felt finally ‘ready’ to begin this new chapter of your life.

The door shut behind the first-mate of the Red-Hair pirates, you made your way behind the dressing screen. You silently thanked Buggy for ensuring this garment was easier for you to remove than the one prior, but anticipation rose in your chest as Beckman revealed a satchel to you.

“This is going to be extremely difficult to do whilst blindfolded, my lady,” he gruffly chuckled, retrieving several golden strands of linked chains from within the canvas bag, “Are you certain this is adhering to the covenant you made with the aetherial pest?”

“To quote my own words, Benn,” you shook your head and straightened your shoulders, “‘Sunlight: a dress that meets the intensity of the sun with its rays of gold and copper. An accumulation of material so outrageously forbidden, it be intended for your eyes alone with its purpose. A dress so scantily designed that you will find none to ever match its equal in both color and provocative appearance’.” Your voice mocked your own recollection, prompting Beckman to chuckle at your tone.

“Well then, there may be a small hiccup in our plan,” he shrugged, taking out a strip of lengthy material and beginning to fold it in half. Upon measuring the half-width, Beckman used his canine teeth to puncture the fabric and tear it into two, thick strips.

“What do you mean, Benn?” your eyes followed his movements with both intrigue and curiosity.

“For his eyes alone,” he quoted back at you, chuckling as he handed you one of the strips, “Looks like I won’t be the only one experiencing sensory deprivation in this little encounter, my lady.” Taking the fabric from his outstretched hands, your brows knit together before the realization hit you.

“You’ll have to wear a blindfold too.”

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jannelle-o · 10 months

Text

Commissions are open~! (ﾉ´♡´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ☆

Here’s the link to the request form and more in-depth/important info: [ X ]

You can also contact me at [email protected], message me here off anon, or message me on Twitter: jannellee_o

You can always check my art tag and commission art tag for more examples of what I can do.

I draw:

Most fandoms and ships (platonic/romantic/…etc.? haha)

Original characters (either your own or mine, I’m personally okay with drawing my own characters for you if you’d like.).

Animals/Anthro are a-okay with me

Friends/family/yourself/any other real peeps

For all, please be as specific/detailed as possible and provide any necessary visual references so I can accurately portray what you’d like.

I don’t draw:

NSFW (mild nudity is okay, but nothing that ends up being very explicit)

Really realistic stuff (Not the best at it honestly 😅)

Heavily mechanical characters/objects

Any other themes/ideas that would make me uncomfortable to draw

( I’ll let you know if your commission request is something I’m unable to do )

Payment:

The prices are based on USD currency. I accept payment through PayPal (will send out an invoice) and Venmo. I prefer payment upfront, but I’m also okay with pay half upfront/half after it’s done too. c:

If you have any other questions, feel free to send a message/email. I’ll do my best to respond as soon as I can. :’D

Thank you all a whole bunch for reading through this, I’d love to create something wonderful for you~(人 •͈ᴗ•͈✿ฺ)

#commission info #Jann art #updated commission info~#( bts are in the example drawings for this time around haha :3c 💜 )

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azmaarts · 1 year

Text

And That's How I Met Your Dad (Part I)

Recently read some really fluffy RoyJay fanfics. So, here's a mini fancomic AU where Roy meets Jay who came straight back after the Pit and continued his studies!

If you see any wackiness in coloring... please ignore. I was half asleep drawing this. (Legit fell asleep while coloring Roy. IDK how I did that.) :,D

Out of curiosity, who do you guys ship with Jason (or is it just no one)? I might try some ship drawings, so please list any you guys like in the comments. Thanks!

Edit: (Cuz my dumbass can't figure out how to properly reply to a reblog :,D)

Thank you for cleansing my soul with those tags. XD

Edit 2: Bro. I am wheezing reading the reblog tags. I love the collection. We've got the straightforward ones, the sweet-and-I-wanna-hug-you ones, and funny-AF-tags-that-could-be-a-whole-post ones. Thanks, guys! (ᕑᗢᓫ∗)

Here's the link to Part II now! :D

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lifeandlies-of-regulusblack · 4 months

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Sickeningly Sweet.

ship: moonwater, regulus black/remus lupin, remus x regulus

tags: sugar baby!regulus, sugar daddy!remus, dry humping (even though regulus is the farthest thing from dry in this scene)

A quiet Friday night finds Regulus sitting on Moony's lap while he's on a call with "important people from work". And he has to keep quiet: humping, grinding, — making small desperate motions to get himself off using his daddy's leg. Remus is so good to him, taking care of such a needy brat. He promised he wouldn't make a sound.

Regulus finds himself a suitable rhythm, and he knows the lace he's wearing is soaking wet and staining the pants beneath him. He's so close, he can't help but let out the tiniest whimper. With how close he is to the phone Remus is holding, immediately, he feels shame flood through him, and he slaps a hand on his mouth, looking up from his daddy's chest. Regulus, hips still moving, wants to say sorry but all that happens is the presence of a soothing hand rubbing his back, warmth radiating even through his shirt. Daddy's not mad. To show thanks, he gently kisses Remus' jaw and focuses on grinding down harder, pressing his face back to where it once was.

When his thighs quiver, his composure breaks and his wraps his arms around his daddy, careful not to jostle the phone in his hand. He thinks Remus is on the way to seal yet another investment, wrapping up yesterday's work.

His daddy feels so good.

Quivering, like the little slut he is, he squeezes around the leg underneath him and rides out an intense orgasm that has his hips spasming, thrusting down in uncoordinated bursts that his body wrings out of him.

"I'd love to take you next week to meet the team. As much as I'm able to tell you what we're working on right now, just as we are, we're a small business." A hand grips at Regulus' waist, drawing him closer as the leg he's grinding on shifts up, ever so slightly, putting firm pressure on his clit. Bright white sparks fill his vision despite his tightly shut eyes, he wants to stay quiet, he was told to stay quiet — but his Daddy's making it so hard. The pants beneath him are soiled. That much he knows.

"I go to the lab every Monday and Wednesday to talk to the R&D department. And I know you've been waiting to hear from Ms. McKinnon, herself. She should be there this Monday. Trust me, you're going to love what you see."

When Remus puts his phone down, Regulus gasps loud and desperately, trying to ride the rest of his orgasm out. Arms wrap tightly around him while Remus proceeds to whisper in his ear, "I could feel your cunt pulsating, squeezing around nothing the entire time."

Regulus moans.

He's drawn back and away from the embrace so Remus can take a good look at him. Flushed. Sweaty. Eyes, half-glazed over.

"You still came so prettily," Remus says, brushing hair away from his face.

"Thank you, Daddy."

A kiss on his temple.

"I have another call to make but it's the last one for tonight. You can go ahead and shower— I promise I'll join you before you finish.

"No, I wanna stay." Daddy looks at him like he answered correctly. He smiles at Remus shyly, knowing he did well. "C- can I have another one?"

Can I ride you until I cum again? Will you hold me while I do it?

Regulus takes delight in the way his eyes dilate, the way Remus is barely able to hold back a possessive growl. Daddy grabs on to his hair and pulls him roughly towards a hungry kiss. He moans just as Daddy swallows every sound, lost to Remus' clear hunger — maybe they can forget about the call, he thinks. His pussy throbs as it aches for a cock inside its walls, he wants Daddy to hammer his way in, to grind a permanent space inside his cunt.

The kiss ends abruptly as Remus gains control of himself leaving Regulus pouting.

"You're too much for me. I can eat you up, just as you are," Remus says. Lust and devotion marking his every word. "You can have another one. If you can make yourself cum, twice, before I end the call, Daddy won't have much of an excuse not to spoil his pretty little star for being such a good boy."

Delighted, Regulus starts moving his hips.

#regulus black #trans regulus #trans regulus black #remus lupin #moonwater #moonseeker #marauders era #regulus headcanon #remus x regulus #regulus smut #regulus fanfiction #remus smut #remus headcanon #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #mrauders fic #hp fanfiction #my writing

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spadillelicious · 5 months

Note

I have a feeling moon is not normal about us at all but hay I would love to draw fanart of your moon and y/n at this point in time I really ship them but uhh I do have to ask how you get that pattern on him if ya don’t mind

I absolutely love this fic so much can’t wait for more 😊

*sweating nervously* I can neither confirm nor deny whether Moon is normal about Y/N. He's not normal about you. At all.

Thank you so much for enjoying the fic, and if you draw any fanart, please tag me, I love to see it!! :D :D :D Posting a tutorial for Moon's arcade pattern below:

Hope this helps! <3

#love death and rollerskates #ask #spadille draws #spadille speaks #fnaf moon #fnaf moon x reader

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toapril-official · 1 month

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ToApril 2024

ToApril is once again upon us! Can you believe this is the third year this is taking place?

At this point we will assume everybody gets the concept of ToApril, but if you don’t, don’t hesitate to reach out!

Before we jump right into it, we want to emphasize the rules of toapril:

Please keep it TOA related. You can use characters from other series or your own, but the prompts were made with the characters of TOA in mind.

No NSFW. There are adults and minors alike participating and definitely browsing the internet within the fandom. Mature topics can be brought up, but anything graphic is not allowed.

Note: None of the prompts are ship based, but you are definitely allowed to include ships!

If you write a fic on ao3, please put it in the toapril 2024 collection. If you’re not sure how to do that, here are some instructions:

Option1: Go to the collection. There should be a button at the top right saying ‘post to collection’. Click that button and the rest should be as it would normally be when you post a fic.

Option 2: Post a new fic as usual, but in the associations section, type in toapril in the post to collections / challenges space and it should pop up. Make sure you add it in the 2024 one. It will stay open for a couple of weeks after April just in case you need more time to finish something.

If you want to post something on tumblr, please tag it with #toapril and #toapril2024. You can also tag this blog in your post, we would love to see all of your amazing works this year :D.

Have fun! If there’s any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.

Prompts below the cut.

Text version:

Day 1: Missed Target

Day 2: Growing Pains

Day 3: Divine Intervention

Day 4: Facing The Unknown

Day 5: For The Best

Day 6: Hair Holds Memories

Day 7: Fathers Who’d Kill

Day 8: Moonlight’s Reflection

Day 9: The Hour Past Midnight

Day 10: This Isn’t Goodbye

Day 11: First Meeting

Day 12: Revenge Served Cold

Day 13: Curse of Eternal Youth

Day 14: Every Rose Has Its Thorns

Day 15: Without Requisite or Deadline

Day 16: Nymphs and Negligence

Day 17: The Cyclical Nature of Things

Day 18: In The Next Lifetime

Day 19: Haunted

Day 20: Chaos Soup

Day 21: The Sun and The Earth

Day 22: Never Forget

Day 23: Cheesecake & Demons

Day 24: Unexpected Allies

Day 25: Race Against Time

Day 26: Wilting Flowers

Day 27: Missing Objects

Day 28: Silent Thunder

Day 29: Lost City

Day 30: Fading Memories

Thank you to @okathleen, @star-flcwers, @worlds-oldest-teenager, @reostuffzies, @tsarinatorment, @nyaningthroughlife, @money-and-dandellions, @ferodactyl, @xxzephyrbreezexx, and @solahflare for submitting these prompts.

#toapril announcements #toapril #toapril2024 #toapril prompts #toapril 2024

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