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#like. i know it's not a sexy thing.
inkskinned · 7 months
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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vanlegion · 19 days
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vivitalks · 8 days
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i'm sure this post has been made before but the "the list of people i trust and things i believe is down to no one and nothing" to "i trust angus mcdonald entirely" journey that taako takes in the span of roughly one in-fiction hour during lunar interlude reunion tour is so important to me. adventuring partners and friends who have saved his bacon more times than he can count? nah fuck em. organization that has protected him and given him a purpose and fresh start? new stone of farspeech who dis. this nerdy ass boy detective? "angus i trust you implicitly and here's the 100% exact truth as we understand it"
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guinevereslancelot · 2 months
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what was with cameron house md she spends 90% of the episode saying she wants their patient to die bc he's a genocidal dictator and her colleague husband says "babe it bothers me for ethical reasons that you want our patient to die :(" and she said "hm maybe you're right :/" but when it comes down to it the genocidal dictator lays a finger on her in an aggressive manner and chase instantly commits medical malpractice to murder the guy and then when he tells her she LEAVES HIM bc boo hoo he's a murderer now like GIRL he killed a man for you!!! he's wracked with catholic guilt!!! he's being crushed beneath the weight of his sins because he chose his devotion to you over his devotion to god!!! he literally could not get any sexier at this moment in time!!!
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thranduel · 8 months
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astarion, the man who was dying and offered eternal life, but had no idea that it meant becoming a slave to a sadistic master.
astarion, the man who had his freedom and bodily autonomy ripped away from him.
astarion, the man who was forced to befriend, seduce and sleep with people to lure them back to his master, resulting in severe sexual trauma and the struggle to form any sort of intimate relationship.
astarion, the man who was horribly punished whenever he refused his master’s orders (one punishment being sealed away in a dusty tomb, starving, for an entire year. he scratched his hands raw trying to carve his way out).
astarion, the man who was forced to eat rats.
astarion, the man who hasn’t even been able to see his own face since he turned.
astarion, the man who had his body mutilated as cazador carved scars onto his back, which he later found out was to bind him to a ritual.
astarion, the man who is so severely traumatised that he admitted he doesn’t know how to say “no” or ask for help (and he feels guilty when he does).
astarion, the man who waited two centuries to be helped and freed from torture, but no one came.
astarion, the man who was always treated like a monster when all he wanted was to be treated like a person.
astarion, the man who came up to you in the middle of the night just to thank you for defending him and allowing him to make his own decisions.
astarion, the man who said that no one ever looked out for him or showed him kindness, and that you’re the only one. “other people don’t have a heart like you. you’re you. no one is like that.”
astarion, the man who broke the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago thanks to the love, care and compassion that you showed him when no one else did.
astarion, the man who confessed that he loves you and feels safe with you; something he has never felt with anyone before.
#my darling boy :(#astarion#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#bg3 spoilers#his backstory and character development make me want to bawl my eyes out#this is why i get so angry when people don’t even try to understand him#and when they reduce him to things he’s not#like do you pay ANY attention to anything he says??#or do you just stare at him and drool and then continue to sexualise him#sorry if that sounds dramatic but ughhhhhh man#it’s just incredibly annoying#like i don’t know why some people choose to pick up an intense game with really deep characters if they’re not gonna try to understand them#like they weren’t just made for you to treat them like they’re objects#and what gets me is the fact that astarion would HATE how people talk about him#and yes yes i know he’s not real i’m not dumb i am aware!!!!!#but he would absolutely hate it#that flirty sexy vampire image you have of him isn’t even real#it was a mask he wore#he was literally forced into doing those things#even in the game he has a reputation for flirting and sleeping around but that’s not even who he is or what he wants#it’s all an act#and it’s just so sad how everyone reduces him to that when it traumatises him every day#and apparently there’s a scene with raphael where if you haven’t seen astarion’s scars yet ->#raphael basically says he’s surprised astarion has kept his clothes on for this long and then he strips him naked in front of everyone#it’s so horrible and unfair#i just want to hold his hand and hug him tight. he deserves so much better in the game AND in this fandom#tw abuse#tw sa#my posts
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callofdudes · 1 year
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Hello dear, are your requests still open?
If so, how would Konig and Ghost react to their s/o having a secret, hidden tattoo? They would find out either by accident or when they're all alone, in privacy.
Really love and enjoy your writing, keep up the great work!
Requests are open and received warmly! Thank you for indulging, haha ☺️
CW: Slightly mature. (No sex or nothing but it's heavily implied.)
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Ghost
He tried not to stare. Oh he really did. Simon don't stare. You're creepy! When are you not though? Simon, don't let him play devil's advocate. Damn you. You and you're... You're... Everything!
It had started roughly two hours ago. You and Ghost had gotten back from a very long mission out in the plains and were rushed to medical for attention to your wounds. However, upon being patched up the nurse had told you not to rub anything on your severely cut up shoulder, so you wore a tank top when you were released for your briefing. Maybe it was delusion. He'd hadn't been sleeping and he needed food. But clear as day he noticed it when he looked over at you.
His eyes wandered over your bruises and scuff marks while you gave a rundown of the events to Price. He caught his eyes on the deep ink lines that bonded with your flesh. How each stroke felt so deliberate and beautiful. He didn't know you had any kind of tattoo. And upon closer inspection he felt his heart rate quicken.
"Ghost? Can you confirm?"
Ghost snapped his head back on Price and nodded. "Affirmative. While there was no information we found the base and swept it clean."
Price clicked his pen. "Well, two men in hostage, seven dead and no evidence as to the man behind these happenings..." After a minute of pondering he looked up and clicked his tongue. "Thank you. The two of you are dismissed."
Simon looked back over at you, only to see you smiling at him. He followed you toward the door of the small office and exited into the main hallway.
"So, some food might do us both good eh?"
Simon looked at you. His gaze shifted downward to your arm. "Ghost?"
He reached out and took your wrist in his hand. You hissed with the movement of your arm, forced to turn into his pull. His other hand landed on your bicep and flattened the skin on your muscle. "Ghost?" He looked down at the tattoo in utter silence. After a full minute his eyes shifted up to you questioningly.
"Oh, yeah, I guess I never showed you did I?"
Ghost shook his head and ran his fingers over the tattoo. Deep ink traced prestine lines over an imaginary skull to create a pattern strikingly like the mask he wore. Deep, dark eye sockets started back at him and a rigid tight jaw were placed on the opposite end of a noseless shape. Imprinted were the words "Ghost Team" in soft ink.
That went straight to his dick.
"You like it?"
Ghost nodded. He didn't know you had a tattoo. Let alone of his silly little team you were all a part of. "You hid this from me?" His voice deepened. You gulped. "No. I showed Soap and the others. You were out, I must have forgotten." He smiled under the mask, his eyes crinkling and gleamed. He released your arm and nodded. "It looks good on you sergeant. You should show it off more often."
You smirked. "Is that some sort of message, lieutenant?" You teased.
"Depends. Think you have that sort of effect?" You wiggled your eyebrows. "I have all the effect I need." He leaned in closer and for a split second you felt your heart rate increase. His warm breath was barely repressed under the mask. You both stood there in silence and then Ghost turned around. "Keep it bare Sergeant!"
"Only for you lieutenant~"
He rolled his eyes and chuckled. You had downright marked yourself with him. His mask was engraved on your arm. His name was on your skin. He breathed out heavily and shook the weight off his shoulders. You had branded him into your body.
Damn it. That was downright hot...
He would make sure to show your tattoo lots of extra attention when you were alone. AKA like three minutes from now because he has a problem you need to fix.
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König
König ran a cloth under his mask to wipe the sweat from his face. He's thrown his shirt over a fence post long ago. He walked around in his thick cargo pants and did his tasks in the blazing heat. When he found you training on one of the mats outside of the training warehouse he felt a sense of joy run down his spine. You waved over at him. You yourself had stripped down to loose knee length shorts and a sweatshirt.
"Want to go?" You asked.
"prepare yourself." He jumped up onto the mat and dipped under the ropes. "Sure big guy." You shot back.
He scoffed and moved into a fighting stance under the hot sun.
You made the first move. You raised your leg and kicked him hard on the forearm. He grunted and blocked. He slammed your foot down and pulled you in by the wrist.
"you're sloppy."
"it's hot out." You slammed your boot down on his and broke out of his hold. You retreated back over to your corner of the ring and waited for König to make a move.
He barreled toward you and attempted a tight hook. You dodged underneath him but he was ready. Before you could roll away he grabbed your ankle and tugged you back toward him. He slammed down against you and held you against the ground. You kicked out your pinned left leg and tangled it around the one König pressed up against your hip. Your right leg was caught in his large hand, rendering you stuck.
You panted. The heat was getting to your head. König relaxed in his victory.
Your shorts slipped up and rode your hips in your scuffle, giving König a new and fresh gaze to your thighs. He had briefly looked when he examined your position, and then he noticed the thick black lines in your skin.
His breath hitched and before he realized what he was doing he was moving your shorts up. "König?" He felt his tongue dry when he saw the beautiful design on your thigh that disappeares up your hip. The black ink composed with blotches of color here and there made his heart clench. It looked beautiful. He never knew you had a tattoo.
And trust me, he'd notice if you did. He'd mapped these lands many times before.
He ran his hand over the skin and shuddered. "König? Are you ok?" You felt a smirk tug at your lips when he finally looked back at you. "Huh?"
"you seem lost." You patted his large hand with your own. He looked back and felt dread freeze him in place when he noticed how his hand caressed the part of your thigh the tattoo covered and his nails dug into the flesh hungrily.
He almost squeaked. He attempted to get away quickly and tangled his legs tighter with yours. He fell onto his back and pulled you with him. You chuckled and leaned over him.
His pants tightened, making him groan uncomfortably.
"Like it eh?" You stood and pulled up the clothe. You turned your leg toward him and gave him a good view of it from below you. He whimpered in embarrassment.
Your smirk widened when he briefly looked back to see the beautiful tattoo again. All the details and intricate lines that were so delicately laid down. the detailed scales along the body of a king cobra. The way its eyes seemed to pierce him with their color. Each scale seemed to flow off your body and the ink seemed to drop with little crystals off the end of it's long body.
It must have hurt when you got it. To think someone placed such a beautiful design on your body. There of all places. He got to his knees and caressed your knee. "When did you get it?"
"Before you came back from your mission."
His heart sank into his hips. "Es sieht absolut umwerfend an dir aus, Lamm." It looks absolutely stunning on you, lamb.
Admittedly he made you pay for waiting three days after he returned to show him. That tattoo will forever make him go feral.
Nom nom if you know what I mean. 😏
Simple little edit... I lost imagination for the tattoo design when I wrote König and just never came back to it. @thychuvaluswife pointed this out and there is now more description. A photo too because why not. Don't mind the fact it's blank of color lol. (Do you know how hard it is to find a man with a hip tattoo? There are like none 😅)
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yuurionviktor · 5 months
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bone nun harrow
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ghouljams · 9 months
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reading the fae au has my daddy issues REELING-
i dunno do i want to be held and comforted by one of them or fucked dumb😭🙏
could you maybe do some like paternal/father figurey stuff with any fae boy you want… cant prove the stereotype daddy issues right guys please im more than wanting old me to make me worse…
As previously stated I asked my friend for help writing the original fae!Price post. Gave me the main pointers on how it all worked.
Do you want more actual dad stuff with Ghost and baby? Or is this just wanting older men to be nice to you?
I'm just gonna have Price run some aftercare on his Witch.
You're still a little floaty, still fuzzy at the edges from having your own magic turned against you. You hear Price opening a window to let the smoke out, and you feel sort of cold without him holding onto you. Your whole body aches like you just finished working an overly complicated spell. You turn your head to rub your cheek against the couch, the worn fabric just rough enough against your skin to start to ground you back in your body.
You've done this enough times. Grounding. You stretch your fingers out and- oh, hm. Your hands are still tied behind your back. That explains the ache in your shoulders. Right. Right, you remember. You were bad at following orders, so Price had to- Why does that thought make your heart hurt a little. A small noise escapes you, somewhere between upset and need.
Price is by you in an instant, crouching to be sure he can look in your eyes as he slips his hand under your cheek to hold your face. "You're alright sweetheart," He tells you softly, "we're done, you did good."
You roll your shoulders wordlessly, your throat hurts, he nods and pushes up to reach over you and untie your wrists. You sag with a sigh feeling the pressure around your wrists disappear. Price reappears, looking over your face, checking for signs of distress. The gentle touches are so far flung from the bruising grip he'd had on you not long ago.
"You ok to sit up?" He asks, and you nod, "Good girl, up we go." Price helps you ease into sitting, his hand pressing between your shoulders to take some of the weight from the movement. Your head spins a little, and you make another upset noise at the pain of it. "I know, sugar, I know." His arm slides under your knees, the other wrapping around your shoulders.
You haven't been lifted in years, but your brain is a little sluggish in processing the soft grunt from Price before you're no longer on the couch. You rest your head against his shoulder, ground yourself a little in his scent. Or you try to, but the lingering tobacco and morning glory give you another shot of the brain fuzzies.
You drift for a while, settled at some point on the edge of your tub. The rush of water and smell of sachet herbs doing little to pull you back to earth until you are actually submerged. Magic sloughs off of you as you sink under the warm water. You hold your breath and stare up at Price through the refraction.
When you pull yourself back up to oxygen you feel like you're in your body again. At least magically. Price's hands catch your shoulders before you can tip forward back into the water. "Easy sweetheart," He tells you, his hands are rough and calloused, another feeling to ground with. You take a deep breath, trying to pull yourself from the non-magical portion of this. The soft dreamy space you'd settled in, the need to please him with little care to your own needs. "Not in a rush," Price presses your shoulders back against the end of the tub, "Just breathe, I'm not going anywhere," You close your eyes, rest your cotton stuffed head against the edge of the tub, "You did so good, I'm so proud of you."
You don't really know why he's telling you that, but it helps. Makes your ribs unwind a little. He pulls one of your hands from the water and digs his fingers into your palm, dragging and rubbing the ache from your hand before moving up to your wrist. Price pulls the pain out of your limbs as easily as he pulled the thoughts from your head, whispering soft sweet things to you until you're starting to doze.
"All mine," He murmurs, pressing his lips against the pulse in your wrist. You hum assent. All his.
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cuubism · 8 months
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it's been a while since i've written something that could be described as "literally just hurt/comfort" but well. here it is. i guess XD
--
It amused Hob endlessly that Dream never seemed to sit on his throne. Perhaps he did when welcoming official delegations of visitors, or conducting official business, but Hob had never witnessed it. Every time he had been to Dream’s throne room, Dream had been sprawled on the stairs instead, long limbs all askew, coat flared out dramatically below him, like some kind of panther reclining on its tree branch. Moody, petulant, dramatic thing. Hob loved him so.
He pet up and down Dream’s side as he sat beside him, and Dream, panther-like indeed, purred, pressing his nose into Hob’s throat. He had been about to show Hob something, take him to some new corner of the Dreaming he had created, but as usual they had gotten distracted, necking on the steps like insatiable teenagers. And now they were just talking quietly, one of Hob’s legs slung over Dream’s, Dream’s arm around his waist as Hob kept stroking up and down his rib cage under his cloak.
“I did intend to show you the new gardens,” Dream murmured, but made no move to leave Hob’s side. “You will enjoy them.”
“I’m sure I will,” Hob said, pressing another kiss to his hair. “Enjoying this too, though.”
“Would you like to enjoy more?” Dream asked, suggestion in it now, and Hob laughed.
“If you’re feeling committed enough to get up and lead us to your quarters. I don’t think Lucienne deserves to get an eyeful.”
“I could close off the throne room and have you upon these here steps,” rumbled Dream, grip tightening on Hob’s hip.
“And I could have you over your throne, if we’re doing that,” Hob countered, and a shudder ran up Dream’s spine.
He managed to disentangle himself from Hob and stood, offering a hand. “Come. We will retreat— this time.”
Hob chuckled, letting Dream pull him up. “Not in an exhibitionist mood today?”
“I’d like you to myself.” So saying, he strode down the steps, already summoning a swirl of sand to take them away— back to the waking world, maybe—
when something struck him.
Only there was nothing there. But Dream lurched backward the way the soldiers of Hob’s youth would fall back when lanced through with an arrow on the battlefield—he stumbled on suddenly weak legs, clutching at his chest, and with a cry of pain just—
—dropped
just fell in the middle of his throne room, the very seat of his power. Landed on shaking arms that were already giving out, shoulders curved and head hanging.
It was fucking terrifying.
Hob rushed over to him, fell to his knees by his side. Hands hovering for a moment as he tried to decide if it was safe to touch him. Safe for Dream, that was. Hob hardly cared about what might happen to him. “Dream,” he said, but Dream didn’t respond. He seemed barely able to hold himself up. As Hob watched, blood trickled from his nose and dripped onto the marble floor.
Hob abandoned caution and took him into his arms. Dream wiped at the blood streaming faster from his nose with a limp hand, but only succeeded in smearing it everywhere. “Dream,” Hob said. “What’s happening, love?”
Dream just closed his eyes. “Something…” he murmured, the word slurred and nearly unintelligible, “terrible. Silence. And. Death.”
A tremor rushing through him like an electric shock, and the Dreaming… separated.
Hob felt the schism go through it, felt his own body separating from itself like an earthquake right through the center of existence, the very air trembling. He looked at his hands and saw them in double, looked at the throne room and saw its colors refracting outward in layered planes, and then Dream, in the center of it all, dense as a neutron star.
Then it all slammed back together.
The force of the impact flung Hob across the room, away from Dream. He hit the floor hard, struggling to catch his breath as he scrambled upright, dizzy. Everything seemed to have congealed back into one layer again, but the hall was shaking, and on the other side of the room Dream was trying to push himself up, and failing as his limbs kept giving out on him, blood puddling on the floor from his nose and mouth.
What could possibly make Dream bleed? In his own realm?
Hob raced back over to him, skidding to a stop and crouching by his side so fast he almost fell over. Dream was on his knees, eyes screwed shut, hands pressed to his temples. Hob laid his hands over Dream’s. “Hey. Can you hear me? Can you look at me?”
Dream just let out a pained whine. And then Hob was very glad he was holding onto him because the whole room spun.
Suddenly they were upside down, gravity reversed so down was up, up was down, and Hob was on the ceiling looking down at the endless void of space. They didn’t fall, though, and he wrenched his gaze back to Dream before the vertigo made him puke. And then the room swung upright again, but this time it took gravity with it— Hob grabbed a hold of Dream’s hand and just barely stayed in place but heard things crashing against the palace windows, trees and houses and god knew what else that had been uprooted in the spinning equilibrium.
“Dream,” he said, holding Dream’s face between his hands. “Can you focus? Come back to me, love.”
Dream finally looked at him. His eyes had lost their human veneer and gone starry, but one was utterly black edge-to-edge, like it was dilating wrong in its view of the universe. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but what came out instead was another gush of blood.
“Shit.” Hob hauled him upright, kept him in his arms as he choked and spasmed, blood coming up with each cough, streaming from his nose. The sky had shifted to a glaring red, the stars angry eyes against it, and screaming rose higher and higher from the distant woods outside the palace, a thousand animal voices rising in chorus. “Shit. Alright, it’s okay.” He pet Dream’s hair, kept his voice pitched low and soothing, though his heart was hammering under Dream’s ear pressed against his chest. It most definitely was not alright, but Hob didn’t know what else he could do, other than try to bring Dream back from wherever he was. There was no injury, there was nothing he could fix. “It’s alright, my darling. Come on.”
Dream whimpered in pain and jerked as a lightning bolt of energy raced through him, zapping each of his limbs. Blood had started streaming out of his ears now, too, and past the sleeves of his robe Hob could see bruising around his wrists and trailing up his arms. He yanked up the hem of Dream’s shirt, and found more on his torso, patternless marks of bleeding, and his stomach lurched.
“Alright, alright, let’s get you down,” he said, keeping his voice gentle despite the panic racing through his nervous system. He laid Dream down on the floor, taking off his own jacket and folding it as a makeshift pillow to put under his head. Dream immediately turned and curled up on his side, hands over his ears.
Hob leaned down to try to meet his gaze. “Dream. Hey.” He caressed Dream’s cheek. “Dream. Please. Anything you can tell me that will help. Come on, darling. Talk to me.”
After several long, painful seconds, Dream managed, each word a dragging, pained whisper, “It will pass. I prom—” this was cut off by a horrible scream, animalistic but all wrong, off-pitch, like he was being eviscerated by an electroshock probe.
Matthew careened into the throne room and landed at Hob’s side. “Holy shit, there you are. I thought he was dying in a ditch somewhere, the Dreaming’s going fucking haywire.” He prodded at Dream’s hair with his beak, hopping in distress. “Boss. Boss!”
Dream seemed totally lost to them now, clutching at his head and making an awful whining sound. Hob finally gave up on trying to get him to talk and just pulled him close, laying Dream’s head in his lap.
Matthew perched delicately on Dream’s hip. “Do you know what happened?”
Hob brushed Dream’s hair from his sweaty, feverish forehead. “Not a clue. He said it would pass?”
Matthew tittered nervously. “A whole wing of the library is burning.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Loosh can’t get the fire under control. And a whole mountain range fell into the sea. Is this the apocalypse?”
Hob let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. But it this doesn’t get better soon I’m calling his sister for help myself.”
Dream sucked in a huge breath as if summoned back to life by Hob’s words and said, each word a heavy scrape, “She will be far too busy for that.”
Around them, the Dreaming seemed to stabilize, shivering back into place. Everything went quiet again. Hob’s exhale of relief shook his whole body. “Hey. Hey.” He took Dream’s face between his hands and tilted his head up to look at him. “Hey, love. Are you back with us?”
Dream nodded. He looked utterly exhausted, glassy-eyed and with tremors running up and down his frame, but no longer like he was being actively tortured. “That was. The worst of it.”
“The worst of what? Did somebody hurt you?”
“No.” He looked to Hob for help, and Hob didn’t like it but he hauled him upright and helped him sit, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting Dream lean against him. “I am,” his voice was hoarse, each word a struggle, “the sum. Of all living minds in this universe. And when so many of those lives are ended at once. I. Feel it. That part of myself. Dying.”
Hob looked around before remembering that he couldn’t exactly see anything from here. “Something happened back home?”
“Your planet is not the only one with life,” Dream said. Hob shook himself before his brain could latch onto that—it was too much to be confronted with in the middle of a crisis. “I do not know exactly what transpired. I will have to ask Death. Only, it was significant.”
“What, like thousands of people? Er, beings?” Matthew said.
Dream’s gaze slanted over to him. He looked horribly sad, underneath the exhaustion. “Trillions. Not only intelligent species dream. Smaller creatures. Insects. Some plants. All eradicated.”
“That’s why that happened to the library,” Hob realized. All the books of all those lives.
Dream’s eyes snapped to him. “What happened to the library?”
“Apparently it was on fire—”
Dream tore himself from Hob’s grasp and staggered to his feet, rushed through a door that hadn’t been there a moment before. He was listing violently to one side, stumbling off balance, but didn’t stop, and Hob and Matthew chased after him.
They tumbled through the door into an inferno, the towering library stacks crackling and popping in the incredible heat. A surprisingly modern sounding alarm was blaring overhead, lights flashing. Lucienne had found a fire extinguisher and was valiantly attempting to put out the blaze, but she could do nothing against the sheer scale of it.
Dream careened into a table, caught himself just before falling, then thrust out his hands. The room plummeted to freezing in an instant, and Hob’s breath caught as all of the oxygen—to whatever extent that even existed in the Dreaming—whooshed out of the room. His chest went tight, and he was pretty sure it was only the nature of the Dreaming that kept them all from suffocating.
Dream held them in stasis like that until all of the fires had sputtered out, starved of air. Then his arms fell heavily to his sides and he dropped sideways into a chair, panting. Air swung back into the room, and Hob sucked in a deep breath.
“Lucienne,” said Dream, breathing heavily, “what— what is— the damage?”
Lucienne sat down beside him. She looked rather more concerned about the state of Dream himself than the books—his skin was still absolutely covered in blood, his face gaunt and hollow, limbs shaking—but she said, “We’ve lost most of this wing, my lord. What happened?”
Dream squeezed his eyes shut in dismay. “Too many lives felled at once.”
Lucienne laid her hand over his, gave it a squeeze. Hob knelt beside him, laying a hand on his knee.
“My fault,” Dream murmured. “I should have conceived of some protection against this. Or recovered myself. Quicker.”
“No,” said Lucienne, even before Hob could. “I don’t think you could have stopped this, my lord.”
"You can't prevent people from dying," said Hob.
"I can certainly prevent their books from being wiped from the library," insisted Dream, and then slumped, leaning his face on his hand, brow pinched in pain. "Too much strain on the Dreaming at once," he murmured, mostly to himself. "This should not have happened."
Hob squeezed Dream’s knee. “I’m sorry, love. I’m really sorry.”
Dream’s frown didn’t soften, if anything, his shoulders slumped further.
“I’ll see what I can salvage,” Lucienne said, standing upright again. “You should rest.”
Dream didn’t seem to have the strength to oppose this. “Matthew, will you find out if any residents were injured in the destruction?”
“Yup, on it, boss.” He landed on Dream’s shoulder for a moment, preened his hair, then winged away again, out of the library.
Then it was just Dream and Hob.
“Hey,” Hob said quietly. Now that they were alone, Dream had gone nearly as limp as a doll. Hob took both of his hands. “Let’s go rest, yeah? You must be knackered.”
That barely scratched the surface, but bringing up Dream’s moments of weakness—as he would see it—was rarely helpful.
“I am not tired so much as…” he plucked each specific word individually from the ether— “Stripped. To the bone. Like carrion.”
Hob’s heart hurt, doubly so for Dream having actually admitted it. “Let’s go rest then, yeah?”
Dream shook his head. “I do not wish to simply return to my quarters. I do not wish to simply return to my quarters. That is not what the Dreaming deserves after this failure.”
“Somewhere else? You can’t just go and try to fix it all now, Dream. Please.”
“Somewhere else,” Dream agreed, at length. "For a time." He interlocked his fingers with Hob’s. Then the library was swirling out of view, and they reemerged in a familiar grassy dell, sitting in the long, soft grass. Fiddler’s Green, Hob thought. Of course.
Gilbert—for since learning that Fiddler’s Green was a he, Hob couldn’t help but call him the more human name he’d chosen—seemed unharmed by the damage that had plowed through the Dreaming. Dream sat cross-legged on the soft ground and brushed his fingertips through the grass, a self-soothing motion. A warm breeze tumbled through his hair, as if Gilbert was trying to comfort him.
Hob gathered Dream into his arms, and as he did a tree sprung up from the ground behind him, growing from a sapling to a massive oak in moments. Hob leaned back against it, holding Dream close. “You’re a gem, Gilbert.”
The leaves rustled in response.
“Has something like this happened before?” Hob asked quietly, lips brushing Dream’s hair, and Dream nodded.
“Yes. Hence why I should have been more prepared.”
“Not what I meant. I wanted to know how to help.”
“There is… little to be done,” Dream said. “In time, the Dreaming will integrate the loss. Any acute damage, I will fix. It simply requires some… patience.”
“And what about you?” Hob said.
This time, Dream didn’t say something about how the Dreaming was him. He just didn’t respond at all.
Hob held out a hand. “Do you want to help me out here, then, Dreaming?”
A soft, wet towel appeared in his hand. “Cheers.”
“Hob,” said Dream uncertainly, as Hob budged him up.
“Let me see your face.” He took Dream’s chin in one hand, and began scrubbing away the blood with the other, wiping clean his lips, and the corners of his eyes, his chin, his throat.
Dream watched him silently. Hob was still wiping clean the sharp hinge of his jaw when the first tear slipped from his eye. “So many dreamers,” he murmured.
Hob pulled him close and pressed Dream’s head to his shoulder. He still didn’t know exactly what had happened, in some far off corner of the universe. But Dream’s pain was plain enough. “I know, love. I’m sorry.”
“I am used,” Dream said, “to the normal cycle of life and death. I have never considered it a tragedy; it is the way of Time. Death herself is kind, but not all ends are, it is the way of things. But such sudden, and widespread destruction. This feels. Like a tragedy. Not only lives were lost. But whole species. Cultures. A history, too. And its remembrance.”
“And normally you’re the one that remembers it,” said Hob, and Dream nodded.
“Now… I can only remember fragments about those civilizations. Whatever survived in the library, or on the fringes of my realm. I can feel the loss in the fabric of dreaming—but I cannot see what was once there.”
Hob kissed the top of his head. “You care so much,” he said, as Dream’s tears wet his shoulder. “Oh, darling. I’m sorry.”
There was really nothing more to say; he couldn’t make it any better. He could only hold Dream while he processed and regained his strength. And so he did just that, leaning back against the tree in the warm, calming breeze of Fiddler’s Green, and kept Dream close to him. And when it came time for Dream to fix the damage done to the Dreaming, Hob would stick by him then, too.
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soultek · 6 months
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Late To The Party - Roronoa Zoro x Female!Reader (One Piece Live Action)
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💚As it's a certain someone's birthday today!💚
A/N: I feel literally late to the party myself with this - but there we are!
Also not the Zoro I ever expected to be writing for but I was just too inspired NOT to go for it!
100% inspired by 'Dance With Me?' by @alotofrandomfangirling. I read that fic, listened to this song and was like "Oh it's all fits nicely!" and then kinda ran with it! [BTW - you should OBVIOUSLY go and read her fic!]
Ahh... and also, for getting me through all this OPLA fangirling @alotofrandomfangirling this one is also 100% for you! 😁❤
Disclaimer: As usual, nothing except the reader character is mine (loosely based on my OG anime counterpart character Zoro!SO) I tried to keep him as close to his OPLA self as possible but I can't promise I didn't let a bit of his anime personality slip in but I have read this back so many times now I'm like 99.9% he's LA accurate!
Warnings etc: Drinking, mention of injury/scars, super mild cursing, established (secret?) relationship.
Premise: With a party happening in the port you happen to be calling in, you and the crew take the opportunity to be social. Zoro takes it as an opportunity to drink, but maybe that isn't the only reason he's going...
Words: 6325
Song Inspo: Late To The Party - Kasey Musgraves
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By the time we get there Everybody will be drunk The chairs will be on tables And the band will be unplugged We're gonna look real good But we're gonna look real rude I'm sorry I'm not sorry that I'm Late to the party with you Let's promise when we get in That we'll try to get right out Fake a couple conversations Make the necessary rounds These kinda things just turn into Who's leaving here with who? But I just want 'em all to see me come in...
Late to the party with you Oh, who needs confetti? We're already falling into the groove And who needs a crowd When you're happy at a party for two? The world can wait 'Cause I'm never late to the party If I'm late to the party with you
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Nothing was right. Every outfit you tried just ended up with a sighed 'No.', before being thrown in the corner. Everything else was done – hair and makeup went perfect; you were maybe even quick with those. But this... This was taking the time. Sure, you probably could throw on any old thing and get away with it - this wasn't some fancy dinner, or anything you had to look good for. Just a port with a party. But that was the point - it was a party. It was a chance to be sociable, dress up for a change. It was your thing. And you were late.
Snapping you from your thoughts with a jump, was a loud pounding on the door behind you. It was almost accompanied by a shriek, but luckily you saved yourself the embarrassment of that. Whipping around, you could feel your heart beating a million miles an hour - you didn't realise any of the crew were still here.
"Y/N! What the hell is taking you so long!?" Your eyes widened to the voice; now you were doubly glad you hadn't screamed. Opening the door ajar, you poked your head out and were faced with the unimpressed look of the crew’s resident green-haired swordsman. On second thought that was just his natural expression. You opened the door a little wider, halfway between asking a question and looking around to answer it yourself - was everyone else still here? Evidently, he wasn't done ridiculing you; "What the hell!? You're not even changed!? Even I got changed!" Your eyes focused back on him... Well, he wasn't wrong. He had changed his shirt. You indicated to the pile of clothes strewn on the floor, "Well I didn't know what to wear!" Now you were talking to Zoro, you might as well ask; "Wait, is everyone still here!?" His hands went to his pockets as he shuffled a little on his feet, eyes moving from yours, "No, but I said I wasn't leaving without you, now hurry up!" "…Hurry up!?" You folded your arms, eyes narrowed. You'd known him long enough to be able to read him pretty well, "Zoro, I bet you don’t even want to go!" He copied your crossed arm stance, "Maybe it's not my scene but if it’s a party, there’s alcohol." You couldn't help but roll your eyes, 'good lord.' Resisting shaking your head you turned your full attention back to him, glancing head to toe; "You’re going with your swords? Really?" Zoro was as defensive as you expected, "You never know what’ll happen." That seemed typically him. "Well…" You turned back to your clothes with a smile, finally deciding on something that would complement what he was wearing, "you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t take mine." "Annnnnd that’s why I’m the better swordsman." You glanced back over your shoulder to shoot him a look. Despite how nonchalantly he'd declared it, the tiny smirk on his face said everything. “I am but a humble student, you’re supposed to be better than me.” He laughed, short, more like a bark; “Humble is the word you’d use, huh!? Interesting…” You turned your body fully back to him, hands on your hips. "Why would you even think I would debate-" You cut yourself short, realising that somehow Zoro was managing to stall time even more. So much for hurrying you up. "HEY! Will you get out of here and let me change!"
Sensing he was clearly enthusiastic; you gave him 15 more minutes before you headed back out on deck. He was standing with his hands in his pockets again, ankles crossed over each other as he leaned back on the railing. Glancing you up and down he gave a single simple nod. This was Zoro, so that was a complement and you would take it. There was silence between you for a moment, but the sound of a party was in the air. It was loud, it sounded busy. Exactly the kind of thing you liked. Exactly the reason it had taken you so long to get ready in the first place. And he knew that. The man in front of you however…
Zoro walked forward a couple of steps, slowly, looking around as if on high alert. He stopped not even a foot from you, brown eyes focusing back on yours. His voice was flat, but it was a distinct tease. "You know, a lookout not on deck is no good." You could have seen it coming from a mile off, but there was something about him that made you rise to it anyway. "Looking out for what?! We’re docked! You seem to believe you’re doing a better job, and you were still here.” He indicated to himself, "First mate. Lookout is not in my official job title." He was going to drive you insane. Your breath was deep but you held back the ‘my god, how did I end up with you!?' - for both ways he could take it and neither ending up in your favour. Instead, you cleared your throat and threw your hand in the direction of the port, “Can we just go please - if you’re so eager?! You did just rush me.” Zoro shuffled on his feet a bit more before he decided to respond with, “Fine.” That did not mean that he moved very fast at all, and you shook your head slowly, following him. Apparently, the draw of alcohol wasn't even doing it tonight. You did wonder sometimes, you really did…
Once you got down the gangplank, Zoro turned immediately left. You glanced to your right; exactly where all the light and sound was coming from. God help you now... You raised your eyes to the sky; 'idiot.' Instead of saying anything, you simply reached out and took his hand. Seemed like a natural enough thing to do... He was fine with it within the confines of a room training. Touch was okay there. But in public, you couldn't be sure. Not even on a currently deserted dock. But Zoro didn't jerk away, and even when he walked far enough for his arm to pull back when you weren’t moving, he didn't drop it. Turning back to you, standing rooted in place, staring at him. Your arm stretched as far as it would go with his doing the same, hands still together. You tipped your head in the opposite direction. Once again, not a word passed your lips. His eyes moved around you to the port, but he barely acknowledged it before walking back to you, and then in step. You let him dictate the pace - still super slow.
Zoro cleared his throat, deciding that he would comment on the situation. "I knew that, I was just taking the scenic route." You declined to comment that the scenic route was about to lead Zoro off the end of the pier. There was humour in your voice, “Every route with you is the scenic route…” You wouldn't say you struck a nerve, but there was something sharp in his voice. “What are you trying to insinuate?!” You opted to just shake your head again, amusement obvious on your features; even if it was clear, you were saying something. Zoro narrowed his eyes at you, keeping them on your face to wait for you to break. Unfortunately for you, it didn't take long to start giggling. Composing yourself a little, you came up with a decent excuse. “Hey, look, I just don’t want to lose you. It’s pretty busy.”
To your earlier point, the dock around you was dead, but the direction you were heading in seemed overly crowded. Zoro, still focused on the surrounding area, was halfway through raising an eyebrow to correct you - when he realised the joke. “HA. Lose.” Again, you said nothing, maintaining innocence. If that was the conclusion he wanted to jump to - correct or otherwise. For a minute or so you thought you'd get away with it, until you found your left hip bumped by not just one, but all three of his swords - which caught across your ankle for good measure, so his timing must have been impeccable. You paused your walk for a moment, looking across to him, clearly unimpressed. Rubbing your side with your free hand. Zoro merely shrugged, voice once again level. "Sorry." His first thought had really been to muss your hair or something, but that would have meant dropping your hand, and he really didn't want to let that go. It was also the perfect excuse when his swords were between you. In honesty you thought you probably did deserve some retaliation. "Maybe you should walk on the other side of me." "Not exactly my first thought, swordsman." Maybe you would have held his hand otherwise, but this had started practically... Now it was turning more romantic. Even if the words weren't. "If you had yours that wouldn't happen." "If I had mine things would be worse - probably for me." Considering you wore yours on your left hip you probably would have had to walk on his other side... "Yeah, that’s you up against me.” (It didn’t cross your mind he would be talking about anything except sword fighting until later.) “What!? I can’t believe you’d-” What did that have to do with anything!? “Name one time you’ve ever beaten me….” You remained silent. “Exactly.” Something within you felt determined to get him back for that comment - such had your friendship always been before it had become a relationship. “You know when I said that I bet what happened with Mihawk was awful for you and I was sorry you had to go through it?” Zoro almost smirked following your train of thought, “What? Not exactly feeling that right now?” The smile you gave him in response was crooked, “Yeaaah…”
So, his only option was to one up you, “Okay, well, next time how about I just put my sword through you instead of just barely grazing you. The AUDACITY!? This time he raised a gasp from you. You turned to retaliate, but funnily enough at the exact same time you gripped his hand a little tighter - this was play fighting. “Just barely—!? You call this just barely grazing!? I damn well needed stitches! It’s going to leave a mark!” Zoro listened, body half turned into yours, but he wasn't looking at you, continuing to stare in the direction you were walking. He simply indicated to his chest; 'really!?'. You knew you had no option but to drop it then - because fair enough. But there was still a deep cut across your left shoulder blade that he had left there. Instead, you sighed gently, turning back to the lights glittering off the water, everything was getting steadily louder as you got ever closer. You smiled again, “It’s okay. I know I’m the 5th wheel here…” Zoro frowned momentarily at your math; mentally counting the crew, before he realised you were talking about his swords. He shook his head in response, lacing his fingers with yours.
You weren’t quite sure how this had happened in the first place. It also wasn't meant to be like you were sneaking around behind the crew’s backs, you just weren't ready to be out in the open yet. You'd both been bounty hunters; Zoro mostly worked alone but very occasionally you had worked together. Had a couple of other good bounty hunting buddies too – and the four of you were a decent team. It hadn't taken long for you to develop a crush on him - and as a swordswoman yourself you were in awe of his skills. It was something you only ever strived to get better at. You'd pushed that crush back a long time ago in favour of friendship - after all, unless you were going to team up permanently (not his thing.) there was not much point in getting serious about it. Added to that, Zoro never at all seemed interested in romance. You had been content to just keep seeing him around. That was until rumours started flying around the community that the great Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro was now a pirate himself. Had joined a crew and everything. At first you had simply laughed it off as ridiculous. That must have been some other guy calling himself 'Roronoa Zoro' because there was no way in hell the man you knew was going to do that. How wrong you were, sufficiently curious to follow the rumours along until you both ended up on the same island. And sure enough there he was - with a crew calling themselves the Straw Hats. A crew you now found yourself a part of, having practically begged him to teach you after he'd kicked your ass yet again. (Like you weren't about to miss a bounty hunting opportunity - even if it was him.) Now you were, as you had pointed out to him earlier, a humble student.
The relationship element was new. You knew you weren't sure who or what started it, but it happened and it just felt like a good natural progression. Neither of you were really pushing that relationship aspect currently. You were close for sure, and you always kept close. ALL the time. (And if anyone on the crew was suspicious, they didn't call it out.) You held hands after training... When you were alone. It never progressed much further than that. Passed a confession and the agreement that you were, indeed, a couple.
Yet here you were, Zoro was not protesting holding your hand on the way to the party. And hadn't he just been the one to link your fingers in this way? That hadn't been you.
Stepping up from the dock onto the port side you were both bathed in light. It went from just the two of you to apparently everyone else in the world who had descended on the little town. You weren’t sure where to look – there was so much to take in. The bustle of the people – of all ages – was secondary to the bright colours all around. Shops, restaurants, bars, and their patrons spilled out onto the streets – covered in bright neon decorations and constantly glittering lights. In the central square ahead of you, music played from an elevated platform; even from here neither of you could tell if it was a live band playing or simply amplified through a sound system, only that the gathering of people around it were dancing. All down either street was a collection of booths selling various foods, drinks, wears and even offering games to play, each one looking as busy as the next and all dressed in the same bright colours as the permanent stores. Happy voices called out to each other: both friends and merchant alike. It was more like a festival than a party and you wondered quietly if that was actually what you had stumbled upon. There was so much to see and do, standing up on the street you almost weren’t sure what to give your attention to first: but you knew it was going to be a fun evening. Zoro could feel the energy from the party hit you instantly; if he didn’t know any better, he would say you were vibrating – you had an entirely different buzz about you than you had 2 seconds ago walking with him down here. He could feel it all through your connected hands, see it in the way your eyes were almost sparkling (though, that could have been the reflection of the lights). This was your domain; you were as in your element here as he was with three swords.
Zoro instinctively pulled you closer - if you didn't want to lose him in the crowd this was the only way. "You know where they are?" "In case you didn't notice - which you did - I wasn't the one looking out for them!" "Right... Stay close. Don't let go." He pulled you forward, and tonight you decided you would just trust him with directions. The 'don't let go' hit different though; if he was going to drop your hand at any point it would be now - not only in a very public place, but the chance of any of the crew happening upon you at any second. You almost wondered aloud if it might have been due to him spending his time waiting for you drinking; loosening up a bit. It would have made sense, but it didn't seem like it. Zoro was going to the party for alcohol. If he had it on him back at the ship, why would he bother? Unless...
You were snapped from that thought by suddenly being pulled in another direction. Finding yourself steered towards a building labelled 'Bar.' Figures he'd be able to find that with no issue. You continued scanning the crowds; the crew must have been around, but also at this point were long gone to you. And Zoro was clearly interested in drinking, pushing the door open with the most enthusiasm you'd seen out of him all night. But he wasn't just holding your hand for the sake of holding it. He knew men. You had dressed up for this because you had a social side. If he didn't clearly indicate who you were with, you were as likely to end up in trouble as anything. Another reason to keep those swords on hand; if anyone dared try anything he was sending clear signals. In the bar the crowds were even more dense, and you moved closer to him, free hand coming across your body to touch his arm; if you were going to hold his hand any tighter it might actually hurt. Still, Zoro couldn't help his little smile. You scanned the gathering more, swallowing hard at the realisation of how many eyes were suddenly on you. Drawn not just to yourselves, but also more closely to the points of connection between you and your entwined fingers. Your gaze flicked back to him, still solely focused on leading you to the bar - if Zoro had noticed this attention, he paid it no mind. You almost envied that. You were very aware of how gorgeous he was - you weren’t blind! You were unlikely to be the first or only girl to ever have fallen for this man. You were just the lucky one that had him…. Somehow! If you were any other girl in this room, you'd be jealous, too.
After what felt like an age, you finally made it to the edge of the bar. He brought your twined fingers up to it, unlinking your hands but keeping them close, leaning forward to try to find the barkeep. At this point the aged wood was littered with empty glasses and bottles. You hoped for the sake of your partner the whole bar wasn't already dry. Without even asking you were both presented with a beer, "Ahh! What can I get the lovely young couple then, eh? First one is on the house!" Zoro was clearly irked by the descriptor - but got straight to the point, "What have you got? Bottle of your best...?" He waited for the suggestion. "Well, uh, I'll have to see, sir! I would expect most things are out by now, but I'm sure I can find something." "Okay. Then," Zoro's sigh was deep, like he was trying not to think about it being the only reason he came down here. "I'll have a bottle of whatever you have left!" He turned to you, look pointed, "Clearly, we are late to the party."
You were about to commend him on just the one - realising suddenly you were going to quickly become the 6th wheel in this relationship to alcohol - when you were interrupted by the overly loud calls of your captain. "HEEEYYY!! ZORO! Y/N!!!" You barely had time to turn before Luffy was throwing his arms around you and pulling you together in a three-way hug, "Where did you go!? We were worried about you guys!" "Ah, blame her. She takes too long!" You punched Zoro's arm playfully, but you returned your hand to resting next to his on the bar. Luffy said nothing - likely oblivious as ever; but you could bet if one person in the crew didn't care, it would be him. Luffy grinned, "Well it doesn't matter! You're both here now! Ahh you gotta try the food, it's so good!" You turned back to the busy room, watching everyone else laughing and joking together. Luffy and Zoro followed your eyeline. Zoro's hand brushed against yours for your attention before he nudged you, "Go on." "W-what about you!?" You whipped back, a little too quick to protest. Luffy looked between you. "I'll be fine here. Besides, I can keep an eye on you from the bar. That's what you want to be here for, go have fun." Fun definitely didn't seem like the word Zoro would use, but this wasn't about him. It was about you. You looked to the bottle of beer you'd been given and pushed it towards him, "Here, just in case they can't find you anything else. I think you need it more than me!" Turning to Luffy you smiled sweetly, rubbing his shoulder, "Look after him for me!" "I will do!" Luffy grinned, Zoro just shook his head. But you knew he had everything he needed right there. You let your eyes linger on his and focused on that touch for just a moment longer, before you slipped from under the arm of your captain and went to make yourself sociable with the other crew and townsfolk. Surely Usopp, Nami and Sanji were in here somewhere... Glancing back over your shoulder you watched Luffy take your place, chatting excitedly to his first mate. He had Zoro's full attention; it made your laugh to yourself. You were going to end up so many wheels back you might as well have not been in this relationship...!
You were social, it was one of your greatest strengths. It was easy to make friends. It made it easy to get information. That was how you used to do your bounty hunting. You could talk to anyone and everyone easily. You liked listening to people's life stories - hearing about all the places they were visiting. The islands you’d landed on; about what there was to do in the area, even if you never went yourself. You liked talking about the tiny East Blue island you'd grown up on. You had enough stories from sailing across the East Blue yourself. And you could twist the crews’ stories into something a little less... Pirate-y. You always enjoyed it, you always had fun. If someone asked you to dance, you would. If someone wanted to drink with you, you were down. Tonight... Tonight you realised that even in your element, you were not having fun. Not as much fun as you wanted. Not alone.
You hadn't thought about it before. Hadn't considered when you were getting ready that it would ever be the case. You expected to have a good time with the crew - your relationship and anything that might happen with it tonight was an added bonus to something you loved doing. But in the middle of the conversation, you couldn't help realising how much you didn't want to be there. At least... Not in the company of these people.
You looked back over your shoulder to the bar, and were almost surprised to see not only was Zoro alone once more (you would have put money on either Luffy dragging him along, or Luffy dragging everyone else over to him), but he was staring at you. Clearly, he wasn't going to take his eyes off you tonight. When Zoro said he was keeping an eye on you he meant it. And maybe he’d never say it out loud, but with you looking like this, that wasn’t the only reason. The two bottles besides him were finished. But whatever the bar man had managed to find him was unopened. He turned slowly to it, before wrapping his fingers around the neck and dragging it off the bar. Gesturing with it towards you, before tipping his head back towards the ship. You smiled, and suddenly it was the happiest you had felt all evening. In that moment you knew exactly where you wanted to be. And tonight, where you would rather find yourself.
He met you by the door as you politely excused yourself from the conversation, this time taking his other hand and making sure to walk on his left. The knowing smile on Zoro's face indicated he knew you were learning. A tiny piece of your felt bad, as he opened the door back into the night air - the crowd was a little thinner, but the party was still in full swing. It felt like you were bailing, you'd been late and you were leaving almost immediately. But it wasn't as if people could say you hadn't turned up. Luffy at the very least had seen both of you there. But there was something inside you that stirred in excitement at the thought of sneaking back to the Merry with a bottle...
If you had gone at a snail’s pace to get here, you practically ran back. Or you would have thought you had, considering how giggly and breathless you were, despite not having drunk at all tonight. Yet. With the bottle in his hand that was clearly going to change. Zoro removed his sword belt, propping them up against the wooden railing of the ship, before blowing out a breath and settling beside them; back up against a pillar, he stretched his legs out in front of him, placing the bottle between them. You shook your head, sitting yourself down in front of him with a grin. At least out here it was quiet, the air was cooler. Zoro closed his eyes for a moment, tipping his head back; allowing you to trace the lines of his face. His jaw and down his neck, up over his broad shoulders and down his toned arms, to his fingers. You thought for a moment about the skilful way he could un- and re-sheath his swords. How any just-so movement with his fingers would move those blades to make perfect strikes. You hadn't been present for the fight with Mihawk that had made the scar across his chest. That was a little too much to think about, but the shirt you were coordinating with tonight exposed enough of his chest for a part of it to be visible... But you still couldn't imagine Zoro losing. Even when you could imagine just how incredible the 'World’s Greatest Swordsman' was.
You bit your lip, thinking about your earlier jab, and suddenly felt terrible. "Hey, Zoro..." "Mhm..." He initially kept his eyes closed and head tipped back, but when you didn't continue, he changed his position to look at you. With your eyes and expression a little guilt ridden; he couldn't help tipping his head in confusion. You took a breath, and although it seemed like you wanted to look away from him, you didn't: "What I said earlier about the Mihawk fight... You know I didn’t mean it, right?” Zoro almost chuckled - that was debatable. But he had known you was joking with him. "Y/N, you worry too much." "But I still-" "Of course, I do." It's what you wanted to hear - so he would satisfy that. You sat back on your hands with a smile, this time voice a little sweeter; "And what I said about being with you being scenic… you know I did mean it, right?” You had realised the hilarity of saying every route with him was the scenic one, and that depending on how you'd said it, how it could have been either a sarcastic tease on his sense of direction or a very smooth romantic flirt. Internally you'd kicked yourself for not realising sooner and now - despite it being obvious at the time which you were going for - you wondered which way he’d actually taken it… Zoro cracked a grin, clearly he'd noticed it too. “Oh. You mean I am the view.” Even though, by the look on his face, you knew Zoro understood you hadn’t meant it that way. Yet, you couldn't help but blush a little, “Glad we could agree.” “That would be a first…” You were compelled; you leaned forward and smacked his leg. It was likely always going to be a knee-jerk reaction to his teasing. That just made him chuckle, and he picked up the bottle again, cracking it open. "Should I get some glasses?" "Glasses?" Zoro scoffed, "Hell no. Now c'mere." He beckoned you forwards.
You couldn't help being intrigued, but as you moved to the side of him, Zoro grabbed your waist, pulling you to sit between his legs. For a minute you struggled, both shrieking and laughing, pushing against him enough that he had to physically hold you in place. You relented, giggles still rising in your chest as his arms wound around your waist. Head propped back against his chest you looked up at him. "Okay fine, you win!" "I'll just chalk yet another one up." "Ah, keep them, I'm never beating you." "Wow." He smirked again, "Did we just agree on two things? Careful, Y/N, we might be on a roll!" You nudged his face with your palm, "Hush!" Causing Zoro to grab your hand and interlink your fingers again. The movement caused his piercings to run together, making them chime softly. You focused on them dancing for a moment, unable to help yourself from reaching out and making the gold ring together again. Zoro simply shook his head at you, picking up the bottle he'd just opened (and somehow in all that hadn't spilled everywhere.) and taking a sip. "Whatever helps you amuse yourself." "One per sword?" "I'm not even answering that." "Hey, it's a valid question!" After all, you had a multitude of piercings in both your ears and didn't carry nearly that many weapons. He ignored you, holding the bottle out. You accepted it gratefully and read the label; "Any good?" "It's alcohol, even the bad stuff is good." "Yeah, no," you sighed, "that sounds like you." You took a drink and concluded that this one was indeed, pretty good. Taking another sip, he smacked the top of your thigh, "Hey! No drinking the whole bottle, I waited too long to get that one!" You almost choked, "And you won't get any if you make me spill the damn thing!" "You do that, I'll be throwing you overboard and telling the crew you elected to stay in town." "Thing is I wouldn't put it past you..." You handed the bottle back to Zoro, making yourself comfortable against his body, "I'm just saying a good boyfriend wouldn't do that." You heard Zoro huff a laugh as he lifted the bottle to his lips again, "Ah, I never promised to be one of those." "What? A good boyfriend?" "That's the one." "Well. A girl can dream." "That's all you'll be doing." You let out a laugh then, a full-blown belly laugh. "I know you're determined to ruin this, but you can't. It's not happening. This is exactly what I wanted." "Me?" But he left it there, fingers of the hand not holding the bottle finding yours again.
You sat in silence for a moment, the only sound your breathing and the back and forth of the liquid in the bottle every time he took a drink. Further back, the dull hum of the party, and the waves lapping at the side of the Merry. Inspecting the bottle once more Zoro realised it was nearly empty. Looking down at you in his arms he realised your eyes were closed. "Hey..." He tried softly, so not to wake you if you were asleep. "Mmm?" Your response let him know that even if you weren’t, you weren’t far off. "You want any more of this?" "Oh, no." You shuffled a little more, head moving to his shoulder, opening more of your body to the warmth of his, Zoro found himself pulling his legs in closer to aid you with this. "It's yours. You said it yourself; it was hard to come by. And I know it was the only reason you were going anywhere near the party." He stared at you for a moment, and then between you and the bottle. Your eyes were closed, so you didn't see his next soft smile. "Well, maybe it wasn't the only reason." You didn't respond, but he saw the smile on your face grow.
By the time he'd finished the drink you were asleep, and even when he moved himself to get a little more comfortable - careful with you still in his arms - you didn't wake. He'd have to be vigilant, glancing to his swords... Just in case anyone did think they were about to come on here and try to mess with you, or the ship. Come to think of it, where were yours...? ‘Ah forget it, I could handle it myself.’ He looked back down to you, peaceful. Pressed up against him, Zoro suddenly noticed how warm you were. How the air had a distinct chill to it the later into the night it became. (Heck, maybe it was early morning now. But there was no way of knowing - especially with none of your crewmates around.) Delicately he brushed some of your hair out of your face, before pressing his lips fleetingly to your forehead. Closing his eyes, he propped his head on top of yours, position of his body protective to your smaller form. He almost laughed to himself - when the hell did something like this happen? "Goodnight, Y/N..." * * *
It was not the scene the crew expected to return to, that was for sure. Looking between each other and trying to determine who might have had any indication that you were in any way a “thing.” Clearly, you and Zoro had been just that good at keeping it under wraps. Not that it mattered much now; nothing could have been more obvious! “What. The. Hell!?” Sanji was the first one to gain anything near composure enough to talk - although not composure in general. Nami and Usopp had to move quickly to hold him back; “I’m going to KILL that moss-head!” “Sanji! No! Wait!!”
Nami internally cursed herself for not being the first one on the ship. If she had been, she could have kept the rest of them away and would have had pretty good ammo for blackmailing you both for Berri. Ah well, no good thinking too much on that now. “I, for one, think it’s sweet.” Sanji scoffed. “Maybe she’ll lighten him up a little! God knows he needs that. Always so damn serious! And unsociable! I would welcome that change.” “Not with her though!” Sanji made another noise of discontent, making Nami sigh. As if Sanji would be fine with Zoro being with any other woman – on this crew or otherwise? She looked back to the scene; cuddled up together and sleeping soundly. It was late - maybe even early - and the air was much cooler than it had been before, rolling in from the sea. “Can one of you get a blanket? Last thing we need is either of them catching a cold!” Luffy - who had just been staring at you up until now, trying to add it all up in his head; it would explain how close you were at the bar but also… - suddenly sprang into life: “I’LL DO IT!” Nami grabbed him, clamping her hand over his mouth, “Stop yelling you idiot! You’ll wake them up!” Sanji actually thought that was a great idea - but he wasn’t exactly the person who was going to go against Nami’s wishes.
Luffy’s version of quiet was more of a shouted whisper, and he sounded out his words in their syllables for emphasis. “Sorry. I’ll get it!” Nami placed her hand against her forehead watching him walk off in big slow steps - she truly was surrounded by idiots. It was a good thing she loved them.
By the time he came back, she’d managed to successfully move Usopp and Sanji on. And once he handed her what she’d asked for, she began ushering Luffy away (which, considering him, ended up only being a few feet further back.) Rolling her eyes, Nami sighed again, unfurling the blanket, and throwing it carefully over you both. She tucked it as much as she thought she’d get away with before it woke you up and stood back admiring her handy work.
Luffy looked between you and her, “Soooo… will they be alright now?!” “I think so…” Nami turned to him, and pushed, “Now will you get out of here and give them some quiet!” “Well, what about you!?” “I’m leaving too! Honestly—!” “Okaaaaay….!!” He protested as if he wasn’t protesting and walked away.
But when Nami turned back, she almost jumped. Zoro’s eyes were open, and he was staring at her. From the expression on his face, she couldn’t tell if he was impressed or not. She decided she’d probably rather not enquire. After a little while of unnerving her on purpose, Zoro closed his eyes again. But he spoke, voice quiet. “Thanks, Nami.” She smirked, because this was her chance. He’d just left that door wide open and she wasn’t missing the opportunity. “You’re welcome. But you guys owe me!” He sighed - knew it! - this much more of discontent, “Of course.”
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One swordsman down, two to go! 😁 💚🖤💛
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eruptedinlight · 15 days
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this moment. . . i treasure it
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weirwood!jon my beloved
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adhd-merlin · 1 year
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they really thought they'd just give Colin a larger shirt and people wouldn’t notice he got bigger?? he uncovered his forearms for 9.5 seconds one time and people went ballistic over it. seriously, I've read some of the things y'all have written in the tags under gifsets of that scene and let me just say I understand why Colin Morgan keeps away from the internet
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ace-trainer-risu · 2 years
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I truly believe that nona is alecto/the body for the very simple and vitally important reason that harrow and nona/alecto/the body will meet at some point and harrow will be like O immortal Body, I have kept troth with you these many long and darkling years, I have sworn my heart, worthless thing though it may be, to you, I cast my fragile and aching body at your feet (and etc etc)
and the Body will look at her with those ineffable golden eyes and open her imperfectly beautiful mouth and say, her own true voice ringing out in harrow's ears for the very first time, "Hi! I like dogs, do you like dogs? I kissed you in the mirror once. Do you want to be best friends?"
And harrow will instantly be like Ohhh :/// I'm cured. I'm not in love with her anymore. where's gideon. ianthe? anyone.
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tswwwit · 12 days
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i have a counter argument to the 'only one person can boop bill' thing, mabel. she's the type of person to slap stickers on people, she would definitely be the type to also boop others occasionally and bill would be no exception. she probably doesn't do it to annoy bill like dipper would, but maybe as a form of a friendly gesture, kind of like those people who will lightly punch friends in the arm when they hang out.
You know what? Good point. Mabel would get away with more than most, as a fun-loving lady! Bill understands those impulses, and being a touchy person! He indulges in similar ones himself.
Though when Bill's not in the mood to be playful and gets booped anyway? The 'sister-in-law' status grants her considerable grace.
#answers#Though in addition to that - Mabel's general chaos and level of Fun Times is something Bill genuinely likes#Catch these two having one too many margaritas and slinging arms over each other's shoulders while singing too loud and off key#She'd have some leeway even without the brother situation#But Mabel gets a pass on things she normally wouldn't purely on the merit of 'this would piss off the spouse'#The thing about Bill is he's genuinely fun to party with - right up until he decides you're the pinata#Even now there are times when she thinks she's doing something 'cute' and Bill was NOT in the mood but just has to grin and bear it#Instead of breaking fingers one by one#Dipper is singular in his ability to get away with Pretty Much Everything#It's love yest but it's also communication and personality I'm afraid#If Bill DID call Dipper out on doing something Too Far he'd get an embarrassed and apologetic husband. With kisses of sorry.#Though in minor circumstances: he starts arguing with him#Turns out that bickering is a better way to deescalate with Bill than most other tactics and Dipper's a pro#Now Bill's gotta think semi-rationally to Win The Argument instead of acting on impulse.#And in the process of debate he not only: learns where his husband's coming from but has time to cool off#Congratulations Dipper! Your Nerdy Logic brain and ability to Rise to a Challenge prevent Bill from going immediately nuclear#Plus showing off that big sexy intellect of yours doesn't hurt#Whereas I see Mabel pushing one of Bill's few boundaries and then deflecting. She ain't great at conflict#Brushing it off and laughing; Jeez it was just for fun!! Lighten up already!#Exactly what Bill says when HE'S being a dick to someone!#Which is why he'd react Very Badly to that excuse#Ha ha! Fun! Of course Bill loves fun! You know what HE thinks is FUN#Barbecue. Flash-fried pork ribs. Where's that stupid pig#Dipper has to disarm that particular bomb and I highly doubt it's a pleasant process
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duringthewinters · 2 years
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jonathan: do you know what it’s like to doubt everything, even yourself??? no of course you don’t you’ve got the best eyebrows I’ve ever seen
van helsing, famously humble: yes this is true
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