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cys-fic-library · 3 days

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Nighttime Affairs (The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x Reader)

You and the Ghoul, Cooper Howard, have a complicated relationship with each other. One which involves him paying you some nightly visits when he passes on by that little home of yours out in the lonesome wasteland.

Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal sex, fingering, bit of orgasm denial, bit of dirty talking, creampie, biting (its cooper i dunno what you expect, he's going to bite you), oral - reader receiving, complicated relationship, bit of yearning/pinning, fluff, cuddling, kissing, splash of angst, not beta read

Pairing: The Ghoul/Cooper Howard x gn!afab!Reader (reader's gender is never mentioned but they do have a vagina)

Wordcount: 4256

a/n: made the smut a bit angsty at the end there by mistake. whoopsie daisies. Anyway, like it says above readers gender is never mentioned. But they do have a vagina (because I have a vagina, and I want to fuck the ghoul). Nothing about reader's chest is ever mentioned either. Also I usually write fluff/non smut fics, and only tend to post that. I have written smut before, but this is just my first time actually sharing some of it. So like ;-; Okie dokie? okie dokie.

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics (much love j ❤️)

Nights in the wasteland were always a deadly affair. All sort of creatures made themselves known—both human and non-human alike—never having the friendliest of tendencies. It was why you always made sure that your windows remained boarded up. Double checking the door of your home to be firmly locked, before finally making your way to bed.

You always kept a gun hidden beneath your pillow as you slept. Easy to grab in case of a break in. Acting like a sort of safety blanket. Hoping that such a comfort would help you sleep soundly, though most nights you still found it difficult. Restlessness haunted you. Plagued your mind. Never truly able to rest easily—not with danger lurking around ever dark corner.

Sometimes that unease proved helpful. Such as tonight, while on the brink of sweet slumber, there had been a shift in the room. The sound of worn floorboards creaking jolting you awake. It wouldn’t be the first time some wanderer had tried to get the jump on you in the middle of the night.

Hand quick to grab your gun, you point it at the new body in the room. Adrenaline pumping in your veins. Heart on edge. Ready to fire at a moment's notice.

“Easy there sweetheart.”

Your tired eyes blinked. Once. Twice. Trying to clear away your sleep clouded vision enough to properly comprehend the familiar figure currently standing in the center of your tiny room.

“Cooper?”

The Ghoul grinned at you in the darkness. Hazel eyes almost seeming to shine from the moonlight that managed to filter in. His head had tilted to motion to the gun in your hand. An amused hum leaving him. “Bit of a rude way to greet your guests.”

“Wouldn’t call you much of a guest.” You lowered the gun and rubbed at your face with a sigh. “More of a nuisance if anything.”

“Aw, your words wound me darlin’.” His words drawn out and mocking, as he feigned being hurt, before he had turned from you to continue removing his gear. Setting it all wherever he liked in your room. Acting almost as if he owned the place. Not a care in the world that he was currently invading your home uninvited. Again.

You could only seem to roll your eyes as you watched him. “What are you doing here so late?”

“Oh just passin’ through.” The Ghoul said with a casual hum. Pulling out his own gun, its barrel glinting just as his gaze had earlier, before he set it on your nightstand. The tossing of his hat onto your bedpost quickly following. “Needed a place to stay.”

It hadn’t been a question. He wasn’t asking. Never really did when he chose to invite himself into your home. It used to scare you way back when you first met the Ghoul. You never knew if the next time he came would be the one where you met with a bullet.

But you learned quickly that Cooper only ever did what he felt he needed to. Wouldn’t take the life of someone he found to be useful. He didn’t kill pointlessly like that. Everything had a reason with him. Even if you couldn’t quite see it at first.

“Well why don’t just make yourself at home then.” You grumbled. Annoyed. A bit more bite to your words then usual. Though it hadn’t seemed to phase him in the slightest.

“Already on it sweetheart.”

You glared at him, but he continued to barely pay any mind to it. As you went to put your own gun back beneath the pillow, you had laid down again. Rolling to face the wall, and letting out a tired breath, as you tried to settle. Let the exhaustion claw at your mind and allow your eyes to flutter close. Trying to ignore him just as he did to you. “Just don’t make a mess.”

The Ghoul hadn’t replied. Which had been a surprise. He always seemed to have something to say. But there was none of that. Instead there was only the sound of more shuffling in the room before the bed finally shifted with his added weight. Pulling you back from the brink of sleep just enough, as he joined you among the tattered sheets.

Your bed was cramped. Meant for only a single soul, and yet that never seemed to bother him as he fit himself in how he liked. It didn’t take very long for you to feel the press of his cool body against yours. An arm finding itself around your waist, as lips sought out your neck and trailed over your skin.

“Sleeping.” You said. Quiet. But still you shifted. Legs parting ever so slightly. An invitation you knew he wouldn’t refuse.

You allowed him to take what he wanted—his true reason for being here—and he did so greedily. Without any ounce of hesitation, bare fingers smoothing down and slipping past the waistband of your pants into their front. Immediately finding the prize he wanted. Your breath hitching as they ghosted over your clit. Teasing.

“Then sleep.” Lips caressed your ear. His breath hot on your skin. Rough hands had molded you into his liking. Feeling yourself growing wet beneath his fingers all too quickly, as two of them slipped into your heat at first chance. “Don’t bother me, none.”

Desire bloomed inside you. Arousal coiling tight. He left marks where he could. Harsh kisses that had teeth grazing your skin. Fingers moving inside of you to pull any sound from your lips that he could. Touching you in ways that had you burning, as if you would be engulfed in flames at any second. Toying with your body and purposely bringing you so close to the edge without ever actually bothering to send you over.

“Stop teasing.” You had shifted again. Trying to provide more space for his devilish hands. Moving yourself against him to seek the feeling you so desired—that last bit of pleasure that he denied you so easily, and would continue to do so.

“I thought you were sleeping.” His words had a teasing tone to their depths, as he nipped at your skin. Pressing himself closer. Grinding. His own arousal hard against your hip. Just as worked up as you were it seemed. But somehow still not nearly as desperate.

“Was trying to.” You sighed out a moan. Leaning impossibly close into him. Hand gripping at his wrist tight as he worked you. Letting his touch consume your very being. “Hard to sleep with someone messing around in my pants.”

The Ghoul chuckled. “Well let’s fix that then.”

And suddenly his hands were slipping away.

You felt your eyes open at the loss of him. Hadn’t even realized they were still closed until that moment. You had gone to protest. Reaching out in the darkness to try and stop him from leaving. But he hadn’t gone far. He had moved you to lay fully onto your back before you could really react. Your pants and underwear removed by him in an instant. Lost to the dark depth of your room's floor. Not to be seen again until morning light.

The Ghoul loomed over you. Eyes amused, and hands gripping your thighs. He spreads your legs out for himself wide. Exposing your arosural bare before his gaze into the open room. Fitting himself comfortably in between. Almost like there was nowhere else he belonged in the world. Ready to devour you whole.

And what was worse is that you’d gladly let him do so too.

“Fucking filthy thing you are.” He had whistled as he looked down at the debauched display he had made of you already. Fingers moving below to run along your dripping lips. Sending another shiver of pleasure up your spine. “You’re soaking and yet I’ve barely done a thing.”

You couldn’t help but squirm a bit beneath him. He hadn’t bothered to remove any of his own clothes, save for the jacket and gloves he must have tossed somewhere in your room. He never really did remove his clothes when fucked you. Couldn’t remember anytime you had even seen him without a shirt.

At first you thought he had been shy over his predicament. He wouldn’t have been the first ghoul you met to have struggled with the change after all. But that had been a foolish thought, because Cooper Howard wasn’t ever shy. It was just another thing he couldn’t be bothered with.

It wasn’t worth it to him to remove, simply put. Probably even still had his boots on at the moment. Trucking sand and only god knows what into your bed. You’d usually lecture him for it. But like with many things tonight, he wouldn’t give you the chance.

Before you knew it he had leaned down to put his mouth on you. Sucking at your clit. Lips and tongue working you in all the right places. Fingers gripping your thighs to keep you open for him. Devouring you whole, almost like he had been starved for days.

It didn’t take much of this for you to be brought to that edge. It had been so long since you last saw him—last had him—and his skillful tongue had your orgasm approaching rapidly. Your one hand fisting the sheets below while the other reached for his scarred head. Pulling him in impossibly close. Trying to keep him there. But true to his nature just as you felt those sparks begin to fly he stopped. Lips leaving you and letting your pleasure fall. Hot breath only fanning over your soaked folds.

He did this often. Riled you up to the point of breaking. Allowing your pleasure to grow high before sending it crashing down again suddenly. Denying that bliss you always found yourself so desperate for when with him.

Most nights you were brought to tears by it. Begging him to let you have that sweet release. Frustration with his teasing at its peak. Tonight you did not beg or plead though, not yet at least, instead you sat up to lean onto your elbows. Insult for him at the tip of your tongue, ready to lecture him for all he was worth, but any complaint you had quickly died in your throat.

The Ghoul had bit your thigh. Hard. Whether to silence you, or just because he wanted to, you didn’t know. You just gasped. Trying to pull away, though his hands remained firm. Fingers digging into your skin almost too harshly and holding you in place. Only finally pulling back just enough to swipe his tongue over the mark he left.

You had winced from the pain, the mark aching, but despite it your arousal only seemed to course through you still. Stronger even. “That was just mean.”

“You like when I’m mean.” He smirked as he sat up again to overlook you. Your blood still staining his lips. “Besides, you’re supposed to be sleeping. Remember?”

“Yeah and who’s fault is it that I’m not?”

“No idea what you mean sweetheart.” The Ghoul had let go of your legs then. Leaning back onto his knees to free himself. Belt unbuckling to pull out his aching cock. Squeezing himself briefly before guiding it to your drenched hole. Teasing at your folds. “Just here enjoying what was given to me after all.”

It was quick the way he entered. No ceremony or grace. No time to say another single word between you two. Barely gave time for you to gasp again. Sending a shock through your system. He didn’t wait. Thrusts downright filthy as he took you all for himself. Both of your moans and heated breaths filling the room. The air suddenly feeling suffocating and hot.

Your hands had gripped at his forearms, hoping to ground yourself and failing miserably, all while his own fingers dug into your hips. You tried to meet his own cruel thrusts, but the rhythm he had set was unrelenting. Pleasure all too consuming. He was right. You liked when he was mean. Liked how rough he was—enjoying how he just took and took from you. He filled you in ways that you knew ruined you for anyone else. And yet still you loved it all so very much.

You were getting close again. Could feel your peak just at the horizon. Waiting to burst. You moved your hand. Fingers desperate to finally bring yourself that last bit of pleasure to send you over the edge that you’ve desired all night. The one he’s been denying you all evening. But of course he notices immediately. Knocking your hand away before you get any chance.

“Not yet.”

You all but whine at his words. Almost pathetically so. Tears finally prickling at the corner of your eyes from being denied by him once again. “Cooper.”

“You know the rules.” He thrusts a little more roughly as if to punish you. A warning. “You take what I give you.”

“Please.”

“Look at you, the mess you are.” He groans out at your begging. Eyes burning hot with desire. Thrusts still unwavering. “You’d let me do whatever I want to you if it meant I fucked you, wouldn’t you?”

He had chuckled as you could only seem to nod. Clinging to him. Any kind of words from your lips caught between gasps and moans. You were so overwhelmed. The air was too hot. Everything felt too much but too little at the same time. And it was all because of him. The Ghoul who seemed all too good at taking you apart piece by piece. The mess you were was his fault, and he knew it—reveled in it.

You could never seem to get enough of him, and he knew it too. He could give you everything or nothing, and you’d still thank him for each little bit of it. He was the same. Even if he would never admit it. He always needed more of you. Both of you were addicted to the other. Needed to feel him just like he needed to feel you. Like a chem neither of you could shake. Didn’t want to shake.

Cooper’s thrusts had begun to grow sloppy now. His breathing more ragged. Hands squeezing your hips so tightly you were sure to bruise by morning. Your head was swimming. Drowning in the pleasure and losing it in the feeling of him. Mind too far gone to think of anything else. A mere mess of moans and gasps, as tears streamed down your cheeks. So close to unraveling at the seams for him. All just for him.

When he reached his end he didn’t give you any kind of warning save for a low moaned fuck. Making sure to thrust into you deeply. As far as he could go. His cum filling you to the brim as he did. It was only then when his fingers found your clit again. Rubbing the nub in harsh brutal circles that finally sent you crashing over as well. Ripping your orgasm from your body like he was owed nothing less.

“There you are, take all of me.” He groaned out as you squeezed and clenched around him. Breathless. Eyes watching how you came undone. Making sure to take in every bit of you that he could as you lost it beneath him. “Come for me darlin’.”

Your nerves felt on edge as the pleasure wrecked through your system. Body shaking while you could only seem to cling to him tighter. Hands fisted into his shirt and your legs squeezing around his hips, trapping his form to yours all while riding out your orgasm.

It wouldn’t be until the high began to dwindle where your mind would begin to clear again. A gentle throb at your core. Your body relaxed in his arms, limbs growing heavy, and breath beginning to return. The night's air starting to feel cool against your heated skin.

He hadn’t pulled out yet. Just stayed inside with the mess he made, as you both came down from your pleasure. Your oversensitive walls still clinging to his softening cock despite how completely wrecked you felt. Eventually you had almost felt sticky laying there—covered in your own sweat and grim. You tried to move away. Trying to free yourself from his grasp, but the hand he still had on your hip stopped you. Squeezing gently.

“Cooper-” You had begun to question him, eyes fluttering open and looking to Ghoul who still hovered above, but found yourself unable to finish when you finally met his gaze. Breath and words caught in your throat all over again.

Intense. Soft. There was a strange feeling that swarmed there in his eyes. Something you weren’t quite used to seeing from him. Something you just couldn’t place. It surprised you when he leaned in. Made your heart flutter—stomach flip—as his lips found yours.

The Ghoul rarely kissed you, and when he did it was rough. All teeth and bite, just like everything else about him, but this kiss wasn’t anything like that. There was an odd softness to it. So gentle, and unlike anything you had ever shared with him before, but it was good all the same. Left your heart feeling like it was going to fall out of your chest right then and there.

It had all been fleeting though. That fluttering feeling. That sweet kiss. Lips pressed to yours only for a moment before they were gone again. Like it had never happened in the first place. Just another piece of memories from him to add to your imagination. Never to be addressed.

There wasn’t a word spoken between you as he finally pulled out from your sensitive walls. The touch of his body—his hands—leaving you, as he moved to settle at your side again. He didn’t look your way, but you couldn’t help lull your head over to gaze at him. Still stuck in that dreamlike feeling. Watching. Quiet as he leaned over the bedside to rummage around in his bag. Pulling out the vials you had seen him take so many times by now.

You still hadn’t a clue to what they were really. Knew it kept him from going feral, but beyond that you knew nothing. Which is how he liked things typically. He never told you too much. That’s just what it was always like between you two. You hadn’t even known his name till quite recently.

It was during one of the last few times he had visited, if you recalled. Between moans and bated breaths. Pleasure so close to reaching its peak when he first told it. Cooper. You still remember how desperate he sounded. Caught off guard by the unfamiliar tone from the Ghoul you were beginning to know so well. Name’s Cooper darlin’. And you’d never forget the way he practically crumbled to pieces as you said the name back. Soul exposed to you in ways you never thought possible with him.

Honestly, you didn’t even think he had a soul until that moment.

The Ghoul hadn’t been back for months after that night. For reasons you could only guess at. There was a point where you didn’t think he’d ever be back to seek you out again. But of course he was always full of surprises. Almost half a year passed until you saw him again at your doorstep. Acting as if nothing had happened since last, like he hadn’t been gone far longer then he ever had before. Familiar bite and taunting words greeting you fondly. All back to his normal self—or what was normal of him to you at least.

“Cooper?”

He inhales the chem. Doesn’t pay you any mind in the slightest. Which is fine. Doesn’t stop yourself from shifting closer to him. Allowing for one of your hands to trail up his chest. You feel him pausing briefly at your touch, and your eyes meet his as he glances your way. He’s unreadable as he gazes at you, hazel eyes holding yours for a mere second, before they’re focusing back to his life saving vials.

He doesn’t go to stop you though, so you take the chance to tuck yourself into his side. Head resting on his chest. Your eyes feeling heavy once more as you do. But still you don’t sleep yet. Not when you know how little time you have left with the Ghoul. So instead your fingers draw shapes over him, and play with the button of his shirt he still never bothered to remove.

“Thought I told you to fuckin’ sleep.” His voice brings you away from your thoughts, as he finishes up with his chem. Sounding almost annoyed, probably was, he’s not one for showing much bouts of affection after all. Doesn’t even really like when you’re clingy either. But somehow that still doesn’t stop his free arm winding itself around your waist. Holding you close.

“Cooper…”

“Sleep.” The Ghoul’s voice had been quiet but firm. He had pulled his hat from the bedpost to wear again, tugging it to rest over his closing eyes. “Some of us got shit to do in the morning.”

You didn’t bother to point out how he had been the one disturbing you up till this moment. There was no point in arguing with him though. He wouldn’t listen—a stubborn bastard through and through.

Not that you could find a good reason to do so anyway. Especially not with how your eyes kept trying to flutter shut, or how comforting it felt laying there in his arms. Listening to his breathing. His very subtle heartbeat somehow loud to your ears.

When sleep finally took you it would be peaceful for once. Something about knowing the Ghoul was there made you feel calm. Even though you knew that it should have been the opposite. He was deadly. Could kill you in a second. But somehow that hadn’t bothered you in the slightest. Not anymore, at least. Instead it made you feel at ease.

Safe.

The sun would be barely rising as you woke to the early light. Gentle rays illuminating your small room in a warm orange glow. You had stretched, yawning, before naturally going to feel for the Ghoul that had invaded your home last night. His spot had been empty, of course, long grown cold now that he didn’t occupy its space.

He never stayed for long. Any night he spent with you he was always gone before you ever had the chance of waking. It’s just how he was. How things were meant to be between you two. You had understood since the very beginning, all those years ago when first taking him into your bed.

And yet still your fingers ran over the spot. An ache settling in your heart. You knew there was no reason to be sentimental. There was no reason to miss something that wasn’t truly yours. But there was a part of you that did. A piece of you that wanted more than this—wanted what you couldn’t truly have for yourself.

The Ghoul, Cooper Howrad. You wanted him. More than just for sex. His heart, his soul. You wanted it all. Every piece of him. Craved it even. More than you ever desired something in your entire life. That thought of being his, and him being yours rattling around in that silly little heart of yours.

He’d never allow it.

Sighing, you pulled your hand away from his spot and sat up. Wincing. You had almost forgotten about it. The bite mark he left on your thigh still painful. Carefully you looked it over. He hadn’t taken a chunk out of you. Thankfully. Just left you looking like some sort of chew toy like he usually did.

It wasn’t worth a stimpak. Not like you’d ever consider using one anyway for such a minor injury. It would be a waste otherwise, and being wasteful out here meant death even on a good day.

Sometimes you wondered if that was why he marked you up so much. As if he knew you wouldn’t bother to heal them so quickly. You wondered if he enjoyed knowing that your body carried signs of him for days. Bites and bruises like some sort of possessive claim. Every mark from him a reminder of just who exactly had left them there in the first place.

You doubted it all the same though, he probably just thought it was fun to bite and mark you up. Probably did it to everyone he spent the night with. You were sure there were others. Even if he’s never said so, you weren’t dumb enough to think otherwise, as sad as it made you to think about sometimes.

Leaving bed, your morning would end up being the same as any other. You’d get yourself ready, tidy up the room, and eat what little food you had. After you’d work the day away. Maybe even head into town for a little bit before heading back home. The simple mundane routine so natural to you now that it went about like clockwork. Doing what you needed to survive before the sun would fall again. The moon taking its place easily in a sky painted by shining stars.

And as you’d lay in bed once more. You’d look out to the wasteland through those cracks in the boarded window. Wondering if he’d show, eyes searching for any kind of sign of him. Waiting—hoping—for the Ghoul to arrive again.

But of course, he wouldn’t.

#the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard smut #fallout smut #fallout #reader insert #the ghoul #cooper howard #my fics #fallout show #fallout tv series #fallout fanfic

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toomanyideasandfandoms · 2 days

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I knew you'd like the idea >:3

Just imagine the characters having an intervention meeting without the creator and they bring THAT up and the notebook along with it and the entire room just goes to silence and no one know how to bring the fact that close to half of the deaths later on were of their own creator's hands.

You're right though, I def think that Sumeru would actually make the problem worse and potentially cause a relapse in which case another nation takes over and Sumeru is seen as worse or inferior for causing more pain to the creator (like the little hypocrites they are smh)

Imagine there's some pages on the old notebook of just describing how they felt and the reader can see the slow descent to madness as each death happens and it's like forbidden knowledge for them to the point that it actually like becomes risk of being lethal, so they kinda stop looking into it and just try their best to heal their creator and just leave the skeleton in the closet, per say.

I forgot to put my little thing on the last post but here it is again! I have way more ideas for sagau that i will probably never get to write so i'm happy to share them!

🍌anon

🍌 anon I want you to know that I am eating everything up cause MY GOD THE WAVELENGTHS WE'RE HAVING AAAAA

And ohhhhh ohhhhhh forbidden knowledge, your brain rn omg. CHRIST ALMIGHTLY

Some of the notes would actually be forbidden knowledge, especially if we're talking the early ones and if the creator was isekaied before Sumeru's archon quests. Omg- NO ONE CAN READ THE FIRST COUPLE OF EDITIONS, besides for Traveler-

Wait....this just made me realize something. I FORGOT TO EVER THINK ABOUT THE TRAVELER, WHAT ROLE WOULD THEY EVEN HAVE??? OH GOD HOW COULD I OVERLOOK THIS WAIT

Putting a pin in that for later (slamming my head against the wall over this)

But yeah Traveler is probably the one that creator would be closest too, because they have to be the first ones (besides Nahida or Neuvillette) to know the truth. So when the notebooks are found they're the only ones allowed to read it. So they would be at the meeting and conveying what is necessary but also keep the important parts our for the sake of the creator's privacy and to keep the forbidden knowledge from infesting again.

What probably keeps them at an advantage is the language creator uses can only be read by Traveler since Teyvat's language is usually translated for us in game in our own languages.

And also yes Sumeru would be worst, glad we agree. BUT THAT'S ONLY BECAUSE OF THE AKADEMIYA, Azar fucking sucks and would never understand. BUT- if we're talking with Alhaitham being the acting leader then there's a higher chance for them. Especially with the other Sumeru characters being there, and Nahida!! Nahida would be a godsend since she obviously would have the most knowledge, both known and unknown, and also would be able to peer review others ideas based on when she's read the memories of the creator (poor baby got traumatized tho-)

PLUS! Kuni (Wanderer name I use, making sure that's known) being our body guard, ain't no way creator is dying even if it is their wish. Combine that with Cyno also on guard duty and you got a chance of healing way better then whenever Azar (fuck that guy seriously) was in charge.

#sagau #genshin sagau #death seeking creator #others ideas #also i am very happy youre sharing this with me #i love hearing peoples ideas #this is why this blog is a dumping sight for ideas #let us all scream at each other over every potential a story could have #🍌anon

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crocodilenjoyer · 3 days

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op fic recs

dont tell my professors.

A head pops up on the other side of Straw Hat; the last of the fading sunlight refracts off Roronoa’s earrings, winking at her. “Oh,” he says, sounding only mildly surprised to see her. “You’re here too.”

“What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

Roronoa grins. “Yeah. He does this.”

Nami props herself up a little higher on her already bruising elbow. Straw Hat’s got an arm wrapped around Roronoa, same as her, pinning him to his other side.

“Okay,” Nami says, feeling her third headache in as many hours beginning to creep up. “What is this?”

“How he sleeps, I guess. Been doing it since we started sailing together.”

“You’re joking.”

Roronoa shrugs.

“Well, how do we get him to let go?”

“Dunno. Haven’t figured that part out yet,” Roronoa says and then, because he’s no help at all, lays back down.

Sanji is carefully placing a cherry on top of the ice cream, his hands nimble, soft, almost—gentle. But all Zoro sees is the way the hems of his pants are still soaked in blood from an earlier skirmish with a marine ship, red seeping into the cracks on the floorboard, spattering across the kitchen floor in a slow drip, drip, drip.

Zoro stares, fascinated. He can’t bring himself to look away.

(Or, Zoro and Sanji—terrible monsters, in love)

“I don’t buy it,” Pete retorts. “Someone like you? Some cook from East Blue? You’re probably worth a couple hundred thousand bellies at best, maybe a million, if your captain’s somebody.”

Sanji tilts his head back so that it rests against the dirty wall behind him. He’s still upright, somehow, through sheer stubbornness or spite. He doesn’t look like someone who only has tonight left to live. In fact, he looks sharp. There’s no better word for it. His expression is still as peaceable as it has been since he arrived, but watching him is like watching a knife slide out of its sheath. He is, abruptly, dangerous. A tool made for cutting.

“If you knew where I’ve been, you would be terrified of me,” he says.

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

“If you’re looking for Arlong, he’s inside,” she says, pointing at the monstrous building. Jinbe doesn’t look away from her, from the bruise over her eye. She can’t be older than thirteen or fourteen. Her fingers are worn red and raw. As he watches, a drop of blood drips to the ground.

A girl, with reddish hair and exhausted eyes and a ragged, forced smile, and it’s Koala but it’s not.

(Jinbe goes to check in on his brother, and finds some things that need to be set right.)

“Do you think you can bench press me?” Luffy asks, interrupting him in the middle of a crunch, and Zoro pauses and says, “yeah, sure.”

There’s a tightening feeling low in Shanks’ stomach as his gaze follows those long fingers wrap around the neck of the bottle, the candlelight lancing over a sharp cheekbone. Mihawk is terrifying before he is beautiful, but Shanks isn’t afraid of him, and Mihawk is so fucking pretty. The dim glow filtering in through the windows is beginning to tinge warm, reminding Shanks that they’re on borrowed time; he glances at the clock and decides. He reaches over before Mihawk can straighten and curls his fingers around the shell of his ear.

“Hey.”

Mihawk stills and looks at him from the corner of his eye, barely turning his head. The bottle is in his hand, and Shanks trails his fingers down Mihawk’s jaw to take the liquor from him and set it down on the table.

“Wanna bang?”

Sanji and Zoro have very different love languages.

Standards by taizi | nr, probably g | post-timeskip | gen, straw hats | 2.4k

"You aren't planning on bringing that boy in with you tomorrow night, are you? Our restaurant has certain standards."

(In which the Straw Hats set out to prove their captain meets certain standards; whether he likes it or not.)

Usopp gets his hands on a tattoo machine.

Soon after, he gets his hands all over his crew.

When they’re on the forecastle, with the helm just behind them and the figurehead casting them further in shadow, Usopp calls, “Raise the sails!”

Luffy’s gasp next to his ear is the best part of his entire day.

The sails unfold in a great rolling crash of canvas. Even the striped gaff swings out, catching the wind. The whole sloop gives a powerful lurch as if she’s eager to sprint out of port on the back of whatever gale blows along next.

And painted on the foresail, bold and bright and proud, is a grinning Jolly Roger in a yellow straw hat.

“That’s mine,” Luffy whispers, hushed and awed.

“Told you so,” Usopp says smugly.

Ever since he'd left home, people had not stopped asking Zoro about his accent.

Or, the reason Zoro was allowed to wander around alone in Wano.

He keeps moving forward at a steady pace, resisting the urge to run because how fucking embarrassing would that be, running because he missed them, and as he breaks through the treeline he shouts, “Oi, oi—what took you guys so long? It's been—”

And then he freezes, because yes, actually—something is very, very wrong.

The Sunny is anchored just off shore, close enough to see the deck but far enough away that the crew has had to take the Mini Merry to make land. Scattered across the beach in various stages of chaos—rolling around, yelling, fighting—are his crew but not his crew, so similar and yet so, so different. They look younger, fresher, and whatthefuck there, on the deck of the Sunny just peering over the railing, he catches a flash of green—his own green hair—

“Ah, fuck,” he grunts, and then immediately turns back around because no, actually, he does not want to deal with this.

It’s been a while since Sanji has gotten some action, which is the only reason why Zoro’s deplorable, barely-there attempt somehow works. Obviously.

Luffy looks again at the bitemarks that he left on Zoro’s wrist. Zoro’s usually hurt, one way or another. Sometimes it’s definitely been Luffy’s fault too, but the bitemarks feel different. They ain’t like normal bruises or cuts. There’s something about seeing the shape of his teeth in Zoro’s skin. Something about the colors, the slightly paler insides of Zoro’s wrists, and the blueness of his veins, and the dark pink color of where Luffy bit him.

Luffy unhinges his jaw and crams an entire breakfast ham down his throat. He chews reflectively a moment and then demands,

“Zoro, you wanna have a date tonight?”

Zoro answers by inhaling the rest of his orange juice through his nose and promptly spewing it everywhere.

“That a yes?”

Luffy and Zoro destroy a restaurant, end up lost, get in a bar fight with a bunch of pirates and go on their first date. Not necessarily in that order.

“Sanji! It’s lunchtime, right? Now? Soon? Now, right?”

His legs are tight around Sanji’s waist and his arms have come around Sanji’s chest and crossed, grabbing the opposite shoulders, the whole length of his chest pressed tight and close. Sanji can feel the vibration when he talks, the snap of the rubber resonating in his bones.

Luffy’s hair is tickling the back of his neck.

The whole thing is – it’s –

For a long second Sanji is frozen.

“Sanji?”

It feels –

(The Straw Hat Pirates set sail in the East Blue.)

If he gets caught stealing again, if he loses his other hand, he’ll never be a pirate. Never be anything besides a crippled beggar, pleading for scraps.

If he doesn’t steal, he’ll starve.

Despite the fluid nature of his ambition, Zoro himself rarely changes: principles, directions, appearance. And when he does, he makes sure it's under the heavy influence of both long-term irritation and a healthy dose of the nearest hard liquor.

Or, Zoro is trans, surgeries cost money, and there's little to no verified adult supervision in his life.

“God, again?!” Usopp looks down at Sanji who's sitting against a column and tilting his head back while pressing a tissue against his bleeding nose.

“Shu' ub,” Sanji growls. Or, he tries to. It sounds rather unimpressive.

“You're terrible,” Usopp says but he can't hold back the fond smile that's been blooming all over his face again and again ever since he's stepped foot on the Sunny after returning to Sabaody.

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

#riko.txt #zolu #zosan #usosan #straw hat pirates #fic recs #mishanks #nami #crocodile #sanji #namivivi #jinbe #zoro

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thedickgraysons · 2 days

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i made a post that briefly dipped into the "amarantha was tamlin's mate" theory not long ago, and now that i've seen a handful of posts about it, i like repeating myself, and yelling into the sky while shaking my fist is my favorite hobby, i feel legally obligated to touch on it again (even though no one wants me to).

in my original post i said something about how the theory reeks of victim blaming, and honestly? i stand by it.

people often bring up this theory when talking about tamlin's behavior post-utm. they use it to explain why he was so volatile and why his mental health declined once he killed her and left the mountain or to talk about why amarantha would pursue tamlin at all. its a theory that, at its core, pins amarantha's actions entirely on tamlin.

amarantha was his mate, and the rejection of the bond caused her to snap; amarantha was his mate, so of course he went mad once she was dead; amarantha was his mate, which was why she tore apart prythian for him.

what amarantha was, is full grown. she was a power hungry general who was established in her field. she was mad, obsessive, and the object of her desire was a child who she met through his father.

it is a theory that takes away from tamlin's story, from the impact of the decades of mental abuse and psychological warfare that he underwent by amarantha's hand, and writes it all off as a consequence for him not accepting his abuser's harassment and advances. it makes him responsible for amarantha's wrongdoings, blaming him for her actions because, in the end, tamlin just wasn't a good victim. tamlin didn't square his shoulders and accept the bond to quell her.

#sjm critical #acotar critical #amarantha #pro tamlin #inner circle critical #you may say it is never this deep #i will say that it is because i can make it this deep #obligatory yes what tamlin did to feyre was wrong and gross and not good #but also it is very clearly a trauma response #so the way people talk about tamlin's victimhood while uplifting rhysands #is so gross #rhysand critical

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opalisprocrastinating · 1 day

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PMD Special Episode 0 Romhack: Secret Cutscene!

NOTE: This post will contain minor spoilers for the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Time, Darkness, and Sky games as well as a romhack based off of it: Special Episode 0: In a Dark Past Well. This wasn't exactly what I expected for my first post, but I sure as hell ain't complaining! I'm making this post since I discovered something that I haven't seen posted anywhere, so I thought I might as well share it. Sorry if it's a little long! First off, a bit of context: Thanks to numerous fanart, I've begun playing a PMD romhack called Special Episode 0: In a Dark Past. It's a romhack of the Explorers of Time, Darkness, and Sky games specifically, delving deeper into the backstories of two of its characters: Grovyle and Dusknoir. As a massive PMD EoS fan, I've been enjoying it so far! Highly recommend it to anyone who's a fan of these games or characters and the writing is great! You can check out the creator's Twitter here, the hack download should be in a pinned post: https://twitter.com/PKMM_ESPEP0 It was when I got to a fight with a Vespiquen and her Combee that I got a little curious. Before I picked up this hack, I'd already watched a short playthrough of it and knew that you were supposed to lose this fight to continue the story (Vespiquen is ridiculously strong and uses Silver Wind, which basically kills you from anywhere). But I wondered if it was possible to beat it. After all, I had a lot of stun seeds by this point, and Duskull knew both Disable and Hypnosis which could stall the Vespiquen.

So I did. Though I must first confess, I didn't do it 100% legitimately. I don't own a DS, so I play all my games using emulators, including both PMD EoS and this romhack. Thus, I was able to save right before the battle so I wouldn't have to reset and go through the entire dungeon every time I lost. So while I did manage to beat the Vespiquen fair and square from start to finish, I did do a couple resets to save time. But that's not what I made this post for. After beating the Vespiquen, I unlocked a secret cutscene! I haven't seen anyone share this before, so I thought I might as well put this out there for anyone who is curious. For anyone who's read this far, thank you so much, and here it is! (It's quite long at about 7 minutes, but it's totally worth the watch!)

Thanks for reading through this one hell of a first post! Like I said, I really love PMD and from the little I've experienced, this romhack is just as beautifully written. Highly recommend checking it out if you haven't! I wonder if I should start posting PMD fanart of my own...

#grovyle #dusknoir #pmd #pmd2 #pmd eos #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd romhack #pmd se0

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katerina-marie · 22 hours

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The Hot Mic Incident (Feel Like Falling in Love)

Sukuna x Reader

A sequel to this and part 2 of a larger (unnamed) series. I do recommend reading part 1 first to be able to understand certain references in this one.

If someone asked you who was most likely to accidentally spill the beans about your new (and still secret) relationship with Sukuna, your answer would have to be your white-haired co-star. But when an unintentional hot mic reveals to the world what wasn't ready to be shared, let's just say it wasn't Gojo Satoru at fault for once.

Notes: A continuation of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au inspired by music (though only loosely, so don't look too closely at lyrical meaning). In this case, it's Feel Like Falling in Love by MeloMance. I'm writing this series as inspiration strikes, so these fics may not always be posted according to the series' linear timeline. I will make sure to note when each chapter takes place in relation to the others (this one takes place a couple months after part 2). I will also get around to making a master list of them in chronological reading order as more comes. I hope you enjoy:)

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, other favorites who have small supporting rolls, all fluff, crack, and humor, innuendos, illusions to sexting, but no actual sexting occurs (sorry), so please read accordingly, out of character and fluffy Sukuna. Please let me know if I miss something!

WC: 4.3k

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Isn’t it a little early in the morning to be sending naughty pictures to your boyfriend? It’s like 7:00 am.”

You jumped half a foot in the air and clambered to juggle your phone in your hands before it tumbled out and slid four feet across the backstage floor of the talk show studio.

“You need to be wearing a bell, Satoru,” you hissed over your shoulder at the menace that had appeared behind you so suddenly, “and it was not an inappropriate photo. I was completely dressed.”

You teetered over in your heels to grab your phone off the floor and prayed that it wasn’t cracked down the middle, lest you make Satoru cough up punitive damages to make up for it.

“In my experience, being fully clothed is not a prohibiting factor.”

Satoru snickered at the look of disgust on your face and gave you a small shrug, “Who knows, maybe Sukuna’s into th—,”

You threw yourself forward to try and cover his mouth with your hands, but even in heels you still lacked the necessary height to make contact. You settled for pinning him in place with a glare.

“Will you keep quiet please? I swear, if you and your fat mouth reveal this to anyone, I’m going to have Toji leak that photo of you from one of our nights working on that period piece last year!”

You watched with glee as Satoru’s eyes widened in abject horror, and he reached out to grip the tops of your arms and drag you close to his face. A quick peek from your peripheral confirmed that the staff lingering around the studio probably hadn’t been close enough to hear, but they were certainly watching with poorly disguised interest.

Were you and Satoru contracted into a false relationship in order to help promote the upcoming movie the two of you were co-starring in? No, that only happened in fiction. Was it firmly implied by the producer that some offscreen tension and chemistry during the course of the film would promise to be advantageous to you both? Yes, and you presumed that in the pursuit of a paycheck some simple flirting couldn’t hurt anyone…though that was a year or so ago, and you were now closer to sending Satoru to an early grave than jumping in bed with him like fans and media were hoping for.

“Suguru swore he made you delete any evidence of that!”

You stuck your tongue out at him and pulled back against the hold he had on your arms, but he didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest.

“He did, but didn’t bother to check with Toji. Looks like that weird phobia you two have of him is coming to bite you in the ass now.”

Satoru released you with a shiver and took a large step back, his eyes roaming the expanse of the studio as if he expected your bodyguard to be summoned out of thin air at the sheer mention of his name. You didn’t blame him, however, because Toji had a habit of doing just that.

“It’s not a weird phobia,” Satoru muttered, rubbing his throat absentmindedly and pouting down at you, “it’s PTSD.”

You snorted. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was too!” Satoru cried, “He punched me in the throat and nearly sent Suguru through a wall!”

“You and your idiot manager were trying to break into my house at 2:00am, drunk as skunks I might add! What did you think was going to happen? We barely knew each other then.”

Satoru looked down at you aghast, stunned that you didn’t sympathize with his emotions. You considered it even more bewildering that he seriously thought that you would pick his side. You were about to let him know such when your phone dinged twice in quick succession, effectively capturing your attention.

“Look,” you huffed at him, waving your phone in front of his face so he could catch a glimpse of the time (and hopefully ignore who’s name had popped up under it), “we only have like thirty more minutes before we have to get out there and I need some time to decompress, so I’m going back to the dressing room.” You started to turn away before throwing over your shoulder, “Don’t get into any trouble in the meantime.”

Satoru rolled his eyes at you, and—in that intolerable way of his—couldn’t let you possibly have the last dig at him and jerked his head to the phone in your hand.

“It’s not me I’m worried about. Have fun sext—,”

“Goodbye, Satoru!” You made yourself scarce before he could say anything else, eager to find the privacy of your dressing room so you could fawn over your boyfriend in peace.

By the time you made it into the safety of your dressing room a few minutes later, your heart was pounding—and not just from getting lost in all the maze-like hallways—and you tried to decide if hiding in the attached closet to talk with Sukuna on the phone or sitting on the couch in the open with a lovesick grin on your face would look less suspicious should someone walk in. Neither option promised much.

Before you could make up your mind, your phone was ringing, so in order to be able to answer the call as quickly as you could, you dove for the couch and tried not to sound completely breathless when you answered with a quiet, “hi, good morning.”

“Hey,” Sukuna replied back to you, voice equally soft but tinged with a dry hoarseness that usually followed him out of sleep. It made your toes wiggle uncontrollably against the floor.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I wake you with the picture? That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to keep you up to date with my day,” you murmured to him.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t. And besides, even if it did, it’s not a bad way to start my day.” His words made you melt back into the cushions and you kicked your feet in silent giddiness before tucking them underneath you. “You look stunning, by the way.”

“Thank you,” you giggled, “though getting here to get ready while it was still dark outside was borderline torture. I’d say that it’s an unfair slight against women, but I’m pretty sure Satoru’s hair and skincare routine took just as long.”

Your boyfriend let out a disgusted scoff at the mention of your costar’s name, “Please tell me that q-tip is behaving himself.”

“Sukuna!” You chastised, though you couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in your throat at the comparison, “You can’t call him that…even if it is somewhat accurate.”

“It’s one hundred percent accurate,” he argued, “but I won’t call him that to his face…probably.”

You shook your head in exasperated amusement, nibbling on the bottom skin of your lip before continuing on, “He’s behaving for the most part, aside from his two insinuations that our conversations this morning were of a sexual nature.”

Sukuna was silent on the other end for a moment before replying back in a low voice with something that had you choking on your spit, “Would you like them to be?”

He could be heard laughing as you nearly coughed your way into a premature death.

“I’m about to go in front of a live audience and on live tv!” You exclaimed.

“That’s not a ‘no’,” Sukuna pointed out hopefully.

“No.”

He let out a dramatic sigh and you reached over to a nearby coffee table to unscrew a bottle of water and chug half of it down in the hopes it would help cool you off.

“Speaking of,” he said, sounding just a tad hesitant, “I’ll uh, tune in to the show to watch if that’s okay with you.”

You heart skipped a silly little beat at the idea that he wanted to watch some cheesy talk show just to get a glimpse of you.

“I don’t mind,” you told him, “but it’s going to make me a little nervous knowing you’ll be watching as I stumble through this interview.”

“Don’t be,” he chuckled, though something in his voice sounded just slightly wicked, “now you’ll get an idea of how I feel when I have to perform.”

The innuendo had whatever sweet reassurance you had poised at the tip of your tongue fly out of your head, and you scrambled to come with a response that could be said back without implying anything further. The swinging open of your door, however, saved you from the task.

“Hey, Princess,” Toji called as he leaned his torso around the door, “you need to be out there in five.”

You startled from your spot on the couch, surprised to realize that your leg was bouncing from where it was propped up on your knee and your finger was twirling a piece of your hair.

Love made you stupid.

“Toji,” you snapped, “have you ever heard of knocking?”

Your bodyguard rolled his eyes, “I did. Twice.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, especially because you could hear Sukuna cackling through the phone, confirming he heard what Toji just said.

“Oh…I’ll be right there, okay?” You shooed him off with a flick of your fingers and Toji smirked at you as he began closing the door.

“Don’t be late or I’m sending Gojo in to fetch you.”

The door closed shut before you could get a word in and you leaned back with a heavy sigh before returning your attention to your phone call, “I’ve to go. I’ll call you when the whole thing is over and I’m back home, yeah?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be waiting for you. Good luck, okay?”

You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but you swore you heard a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“Thank you. Bye, Sukuna,”

“Bye, Princess,” he sing-songed, and you couldn’t help but smile as you clicked off the call.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Twenty minutes later found you and Satoru sitting next to each other on a platform stage surrounded by bright lights, a large live audience sprawled in front of you, and an all too perceptive interviewer who had started the interrogation just a couple minutes prior. You wiggled in your seat, uncomfortable from the various wires and clips that secured your mic to your back under your dress.

“So,” she began, nailing you with a look that promised nothing good, “you and Satoru were supposed to film an advert on the beach early this last summer, but it ended up being you and the so-called ‘King of Curses.’ Tell me, how did that come about?”

You hesitated a moment, thankful the question wasn’t anything too invasive, but you were still hoping to avoid talking about Sukuna altogether. Usually Nanami would heavily emphasize what could and couldn’t be spoken of before these appearances, but since he wasn’t here, you assumed it had been left to Geto. In that case, you knew he couldn’t be bothered since predicting whatever was going to come out of Satoru’s mouth during these things was an art not yet mastered.

“Well,” you started, clasping your hands together so they didn’t shake, “it really just came about out of well-timed convenience and a favor to the director. We didn’t want to waste any of the crew’s time or have to worry about re-aligning schedules, so Sukuna saved the day by offering to help. Plus, ‘The Curses’ new song at the time got to debut in it, so it was a win-win for everyone! Except for maybe Satoru, of course.”

In an effort to divert attention from your answer, you threw Satoru a faux-friendly smile and urged him with a widening of your eyes to explain his part.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, adjusting himself in the seat and setting a convincing pout on his face. “I just happened to get pulled into something personal last minute and was going to be late to the shoot. I’m appreciative that the “King of Curses” was able to step in and save the day.”

You didn’t miss the obvious sarcasm dripping from Sukuna’s nickname when it came out of Satoru’s mouth, and you had to hide a giggle behind your hand at the thought of your boyfriend cursing at his TV at home.

“But,” Satoru continued, jolting you into awareness when he turned to you and ran a long finger down the bare skin of your arm, “I’m super bummed I missed our chance to get wet together.” The smirk on his face was downright evil, and you just knew your face was a picture of stunned disbelief. The audience was tittering with amusement.

“You wear me out, Satoru,” you hissed at him, batting his hand away from where it still traced slowly over your skin.

Satoru laughed and threw his head back against his chair before taking a quick look at the camera and then leaning in towards you until your noses nearly touched, “I’m flattered you’d admit that on live television.”

Your jaw, and everyone else’s for that matter, fell to the floor and you could only gawk at him. Over the interviewer’s shoulder, you could see Toji backstage laughing his ass off as Geto stood at a respectable distance next to him shaking his head.

We better get those damned bonuses from the producer.

“Well!” The interviewer laughed a bit nervously, breaking the tension in the room and turning to the main camera in front of you all, “That was surely something. We have to go to a commercial, but we’ll be back with these two in just a couple minutes!”

The outro music sounded over the speakers and you and Satoru were released from your chairs to scurry backstage. In between sending friendly waves to the audience and starting the walk backstage, you flipped the switch on your mic off.

“I’m going to kill you, Satoru,” you spat under your breath as the two of you left stage.

The idiot had the gall to laugh, and in your frustration you took a couple large steps to get a head of him. And because the universe didn’t hate you enough, you felt the toe of your heel catch on a stray cable on the floor, pitching you off balance. In your flailing, you reached out to grasp at whatever object could possibly break your fall, and in doing so latched on to Satoru’s sleeve, jerking the poor bastard off his feet and onto you as you both tumbled to floor in a heap of tangled limbs.

Your back hit the ground first, your mic digging painfully into your back with a suspicious crack of plastic followed by Satoru landing on your front, pushing all the air from your lungs with a painful “oomph.”

You stared at the ceiling of the studio, wondering how quickly things would go if one of the giant studio lights fell from above and crushed you under it. You were never going to live this down, especially since it happened still in view of the cameras and the audience if the raucous laughter was anything to go by.

“You know, I never imagined I would actually get you under me,” Satoru mused, staring down at you for a second before lifting his giant self off and then pulling you up to follow. He held a hand against your lower back as the two of you made it to the cover of backstage.

“Honestly,” you admitted, still a little dazed, “I never would have thought so either.”

Staff fluttered around you a minute later, offering water, smoothing your hair out, and ensuring neither of you were hurt…at least not physically. Your pride was a whole other matter.

“Oh no,” you groaned, catching Satoru’s attention once everyone had cleared out around you, “he was watching. He just saw me eat it on live television.”

Your co-star cocked a confused eyebrow at you, “You mean Sukuna was watching?”

“Oh please,” you muttered, “like you didn’t guess. And yes, Sukuna was watching, and now I’m not going to be able to look him in the eye this evening.”

There was a general increased noise coming from the front of the studio, but you were too preoccupied with your own embarrassment to think much of it.

“And why is that?” Satoru asked.

You threw your hands up purely because you didn’t know what else to do with them, “I don’t really know exactly, but there is still something supremely humiliating about doing something embarrassing like that in front of my new boyfriend. He makes me nervous enough as is.”

There was a sudden outbreak of hollers and clapping from out front, and you swung your head around to look and see if anyone had a clue as to what was going on. It took you a minute before you could see Toji running at you with a wild look on his face.

“Toji, what the hell—?” You didn’t get to finish your question before he was spinning you around by the shoulders, yanking down the zipper of your dress, and ripping the mic from your back. You shrieked in disbelief as you whirled back around to figure out what in the world he had been thinking.

“Toji!”

“Your mic has been on this whole time,” he growled, showing you the blinking green light on the cracked plastic box. You swore you had turned it off, but seeing as how it took the brunt of the impact when you fell on it earlier, you supposed it wasn’t unlikely that it had turned back on.

With sudden cold rushing through your body and a sick ball of dread settling into your gut, you looked between Satoru’s dumbfounded expression and Toji’s face of pure exhaustion and immediately decided that if the ground wasn’t going to swallow you up whole, you were going home.

“Get me out of here!”

——————————————————————————————————————————

After finally making it to some undisclosed back alley across from the talk show studio, you were assisted out from your crouch in a trash bin by studio security and ushered to a small nearby out-cove to wait for your bodyguard.

And you just wanted to be famous soooo bad. Glamorous life, my ass.

As luck would have it, you were made aware today of just how famous you, and especially Sukuna, were. For all the grief you gave Satoru about not accidentally spilling the beans about your newly minted—and still secret—relationship with Sukuna, you were the one that had the unintended pleasure of doing the grand reveal. So now the world was free to stir whatever frenzy they saw fit, from the intensely devoted fangirls of Sukuna’s band, to the entire acting community, and the worst of all…your mother. You suspected you were a couple minutes away from an angry phone call demanding an explanation as to why she had to find out from the internet that you were dating a boy with pink hair and face tattoos and how much longer it would be until she had grandchildren.

All of this chaos and Nanami just happened to be in a whole other country.

You suddenly regretted sending him on that vacation.

A sharp squeal of tires caught your attention and you looked up to see a shiny sports car peal around the corner and come to a rumbling stop a couple feet in front of you. Before you could even begin to guess who it could be, the head of your bodyguard appeared as the tinted black window of the passenger side door rolled down.

“Get in the car,” Toji hissed, eyes darting to and fro.

You wasted no time and nearly dove through the open window in your haste to escape broad daylight. You had just finished buckling your seatbelt in the back when Toji mashed the gas pedal and the car leapt forward.

“Christ, Toji!” You gasped, clasping the headrest of the seat you were just flung into, “Whose car is this? It’s certainly not yours.”

He snorted. “Yeah, cause you don’t pay me enough.”

“Rude,” you muttered back to him, “and not true.”

You tried to squint out the front windshield to determine where you might be, but brick buildings towered on either side of you still, and you assumed Toji was taking some alternative route home. “Seriously though, whose car is this? It’s not one of mine.”

“Does it matter?”

You rolled your eyes at his bored tone, “Yes, it does. Toji, I’m not your wife, but—”

“Thank God.” He sounded entirely too relieved about that.

“Still rude!” You yelped, but brushed aside the sting of offense to figure out whose leather seats your dress was currently dropping glitter all over. “I’m not your wife, so I don’t particularly care to know what unscrupulous activities you get up to when I’m not keeping you busy—,”

“None,” he deadpanned, shooting you a glare through the rear view mirror.

“—which I’m pretty sure I had you sign a non-compete, but that’s besides the point. I really need you to tell me where you got this car. In case you aren’t aware, my name is going to be plastered on every social media post, blog page, and headline in the next 24 hours and I’d rather that not include my mugshot with “accomplice to grand theft auto” under it. So tell me who this car belongs to right now or I’m jumping out.”

Toji had the audacity to chuckle at you before reaching back to pat your knee.

“Relax a bit. You know I wouldn’t ever put you in harm’s way on purpose. This is Gojo’s car. Ours was being swarmed by the media out front after your little slip up, so I threatened Geto for the idiot’s keys cause I knew it was out back and the quickest way I could get to our little rendezvous point.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to get out. Letting your racing mind settle down a bit, you snuggled deeper into the plush leather seats and kicked your feet up onto the center console. You got two seconds of peace before Toji opened his mouth again.

“I’m going to have to call Nanami.”

“No!” You gasped, springing upright again and feeling a warm sting creep to your eyes as your throat began to tense up. “He’s on vacation! I promised we wouldn’t bother him unless one of us was dying. I’d never forgive myself if he had to come home to clean up my sloppy love life!”

Toji shook his head and shot you a sad smile over his shoulder as he reached for his phone sitting in the front cup holder.

“We may not really have an option, Sweetheart. Not only is Uraume going to be a huge pain to deal with since this could affect Sukuna’s band, but you’ve also got contracts and appearances promised that may get shaken by the fact it’s been revealed to the world that you've been secretly dating the music industry’s favorite ‘hate to love’ rockstar. We can’t fix this without Nanami.”

The panic that had been brewing in your stomach this whole time was starting to make your head spin up, so you blamed it on that when you lurched out of your seat and nearly over Toji’s shoulder to snatch the phone out of his hand before he could hit ‘dial�� on Nanami’s contact.

Your bodyguard swore when you knocked him in the face with your elbow in your clamber and his hand gave a vicious jerk of the wheel that had horns blaring from either side of your car as Toji swerved to correct it. You were thrown back into the seat you had just previously been in and you waited with heaving breaths as the car jolted sideways once more before continuing on straight. The fact you barely missed crashing was a testament to Toji’s reflexes.

“Don’t you ever do stupid shit like that again, you hear me?!” You’d never heard Toji raise his voice at you and it did nothing to help quell the tears about to start pouring from your eyes, “I know you’re stressed and something big has just happened to you, I get it, but that’s no excuse to do something dumb! You just about gave me a heart attack,” he finished, his voice still at a higher volume than normal, but it was softened by the edge of panicked concern and the worried glances he was giving you.

That was enough to push you over the edge.

“I-I’m sorry, Toji,” you sobbed, upset at yourself for messing up again, “I wasn’t thinking, and I don’t want Nanami to feel like he has to babysit me for the rest of his life, or you to think I’m an airhead or something. I also really like Sukuna and I don’t want him to hate me because of what I did!”

You let your head fall into your hands and hiccuped through another shuddering cry as you struggled to get ahold of the overwhelming-ness of it all. You felt Toji’s hand on your knee again.

“Hey, hey, take deep breaths for me. No one’s thinking that, I promise you. And I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. It was wrong. It’s no excuse, but that scared the crap out of me and I thought we for sure were getting into an accident,” he admitted. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You nodded through your tears, unable to respond to him in any way that was legible.

“Look, we’re almost home. Try and deep breathe for me. Once we get there I’ll help you get comfortable and we’ll figure this out together, okay?”

As was frequent with Toji, you valued his ability to keep you calm when you got into the worst of yourself and you were grateful for his steady confidence. You reached out and clasped the hand he still had stretched back on your knee to give it a squeeze, hoping it could convey all the thanks you had for him. The two of you kept driving in comfortable silence until you felt the car slow and saw a flash of a familiar gate out the front windshield.

“Hey,” Toji started, his voice suspiciously light, “you think Gojo would realize if we never returned his car?”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! I've got ideas for parts 3 and 4 already, so I'm hoping to work on those in the next coming days.

I'll also be posting this series on AO3 under Katerina_Mar if you would prefer to read there:)

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #toji fushiguro #gojo satoru

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homemadeaxolotl · 23 hours

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Obey Me x TWST Chapter 2

[Back In The Devildom]

"What do you mean they're gone?! What did you do, Solomon?!"

Lucifer had lost his shit and his brothers were just as pissed, all of them in agreement for once, which was concerning. Diavolo was standing behind everyone, simply listening as Barbatos stood by his side, remaining calm despite the icy glare leveled at the sorcerer.

Before it could get too loud, Diavolo stepped forward, looking serious as everyone stepped back. Diavolo then walked over to Solomon and stood in front of him as the prince spoke in a scarily quiet voice. "Where's (Y/N), Solomon?"

Solomon sighed and shrugged as he looked at Diavolo. "If I knew where my apprentice was, I would have said so already." "What happened?" Diavolo's voice was sharp as he kept staring at Solomon, showing that he was just as irritated as the rest of the demons were.

"Well, I wanted to test a spell that should have just made them extremely small, but I must have read something wrong. I doubt it, though." Solomon tried sounding confident, but it was obvious that even he was getting nervous.

"Where did you find this spell?" Satan sounded eerily calm as he stared coldly at Solomon. Solomon cleared his throat and smiled at Satan as he handed the avatr of wrath an ancient spellbook with a neon pink sticky note sticking out of the top. Satan then carefully flipped to the page with everyone's eyes on him. Once Satan read what was on the page, he growled and shoved the book into Asmodeus' hands before slamming Solomon against the wall. "You moron! That spell doesn't make someone smaller!"

Lucifer forced Satan back, much to his irritation, as Asmodeus gasped dramatically and stared at Solomon in horror. "You sent our precious (Y/N) to another world?!"

The room fell into total silence as all the demons in the room stared at Solomon. It was so quiet that a pin could be heard, but before anyone could freak out (more than Satan and Asmo did, anyway), Diavolo spoke calmly and coldly, keeping a level head. "Solomon, you will be staying out of this. we can find a way to bring (Y/N) back."

Solomon actually looked alarmed when he heard Diavolo's words as he tried defending himself, but Diavolo wasn't having any of it. Diavolo held a hand up to silence Solomon as he spoke coldly. "You are not allowed to help us. We cannot risk messing up and you cannot be trusted currently."

With that, Lucifer and his brothers headed back to the House of Lamentation and Diavolo and Barbatos went deeper into the castle, leaving Solomon all alone in the main hall, with his only option being to go back to Purgatory Hall, regretting sending his apprentice away on accident as he tried to figure out how he was going to break the news to Simeon, Luke, and Raphael.

No one was going to be happy with Solomon and he, oddly enough, wasn't happy to be on everyone's shit list.

-----------

Alright, this is gonna be the last chapter before finals week. It was a shorter chapter, but I'll try to make the chapters after this a little longer. I'll post the 3rd chapter either the week after finals or the week after that.

It might be a bit early to say this, but thank you for all the support I've gotten for this fic so far. It's only in its early stages, but everyone has been so kind to me and so eager for more, which makes me excited to write more, so thank you!

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Taglist: @axvfr @energy-addict

#obey me #twisted wonderland #twst #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #twst x mc #twst x reader #so much serotonin #i love your guys enthusiasm #thank you #i hope this will keep you all fed for the next few weeks #^-^

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pinkmiku · 19 hours

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hello all !! I have decided that , for 30+ followers , ill be hosting a raffle !

Thank you so much for the support , its really been motivating in such a low motivation time ^_^

Anybody can join , unless you fit the DNI ( check pinned post )

PRIZES + HOW 2 JOIN UNDER CUT !!

How 2 join :

MUST be following pinkmiku ( me ) in order 2 join , like + repost saying your participating , and done !

you have until april 28th to join! and the winners will be announced april 29th

Prizes :

3RD PLACE : set of graphics , 1 set of edits of choice

2ND PLACE : 1 Custom PSD , 1 layout ( Tumblr Ou Disc ) , Set of graphics , 2 sets of edits of choice

1ST PLACE : 3 Custom PSDS , 2 layouts ( Tumblr Ou Disc ) , 2 Sets of graphics , 3 sets of edits of choice

Remember 2 check the blacklist 2 see what you cannot request .

IMPORTANT EXPLANATION :

The “sets of graphics of choice” prize means you get a set of whatever edit youd like , like layout , graphics , stimboard , icons etc !!

I wasn’t sure if it made sense , so i wanted 2 clarify

also the winners prizes will be done either by early may or late may, so pls be patient im just a little guy

tag list ( copied my friends dm 2 be removed )

@kiochisato @necroangelz @angeldolliess @chereternal @iv-ry @demeurel @dulcxtte @astromiis @killersinlove @buriedloves @cirrusism @circuswhisprs @adoringpuppet @aquariium-ediits @minorinrinz @sunnyblr @frillu @gunlolita @halloweddoll @intersweet @liardolls @pawsedits @p1nk-sugar @rosendoru oru @ringchime me @yyoimiya iya @angeldolliess geldolliess @starry-ichisaki @pegasus-exploration-team @plecakism @cyrv-s @cherryshh + any1 who wants 2 repost

#♡ event #raffle #30 FOLLOWERS!!#YALL ARE AWESOME !!#edit blog #rentry graphics #tumblr layouts #discord layouts #hatsune miku #tags are for reach #edit rafffle

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turtletaubwrites · 1 day

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✨1,000 Followers Celebration!!✨

I can't describe how much being part of this community has meant to me. The first fic I posted here was in November in the middle of some major health and life crises (which I talk about in my about me post if you'd like to know), and I honestly don't know how I would have gotten through it without all of your support and encouragement, as well as all the laughs and good times that y'all have shared with me.

It blows my mind that there are 1,000 of you here 🤯🤯🤯 I'm so grateful for all the love, it means the world to me! 🖤🙏🏼

Here's what I've got going on:

I wanted to plan something extra special for this milestone, but y'all have been following me faster than I can write! For the 900 milestone I decided to circle back around to Numbers Game since it was the most requested fic, and I'm so happy that the bad men of the Cross Guild seem to be hitting the spot 😅

WIP Updates

I keep my current and upcoming wips + announcements listed on my pinned Masterlist post, and here's what I've got at the moment:

Numbers Game ~ Part 13 will be out later today!

Current WIPS: Numbers Game 14, and We've All Got Needs 28 Upcoming WIPS: Misty Eyes 6, 1 request, Wrong Side of the Bars 2, a few WAGN extra scenes, and 4 requests that came in while they were closed) Announcements: Requests will remain closed until I complete the next batch of Numbers Game, as well as the requests on my list. I'm sorry for the delay, I keep turning them into multi-chaptered fics! If you've submitted a request, know that it is on my list, and I've already started outlining!

New Fic Rec Masterlist

I have been reading some amazing fics lately, please check out my new Fic Rec Masterlist, and show the authors some love!!

Fic & Personal Playlists

I never made playlists for writing until I was tagged in an ask game, and it was so fun! Typically my brain will only let me listen to the same 1-10 songs over and over for a month or more, lol. So in addition to the fic playlists I'm starting, I've made a playlist of my current hyperfixation songs if you'd like to check in on the sounds looping through my head that week 😅 Plus a dump playlist where I'm slowly adding all the past hyperfixation songs I can remember because sometimes I need to pull one back in when there's a void, lol. I love getting song recs too! This reminds me of hooking up my dingy little ipod nano (that I still have, his name is Desmond 🥰) to all of my friend's computers to steal their music since I couldn't afford to buy my own 😅

TurtleTaub Current Hyperfixation Playlist TurtleTaub All the Fixation's Playlist Misty Eyes ~ Law x Reader Playlist Bend Until You Break ~ Playlist More to come, and feel free to send me song recs, they make me so happy 🥰🎶

Next Fic Poll

To celebrate this milestone I'm going to write one of the requests/wips of your choice that I've got on the books next.

#thank you so much!!! 🙏🏼😭#i'll keep on tapping on this keyboard #i'm sending you all love & hugs & cookies & beverages of your choice #y'all have made my year 🖤🖤🖤#turtletaub talks #follower appreciation #followers celebration #fic poll #one piece x reader

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higgity-diggity-dummy · 2 days

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These Strings That Bind Us

first chapter; previous chapter

So this is the first chapter of this fic that I’ve posted since a few of my irl friends have started following me and now they get to see the crazed fanfiction maniac I am and I don’t know if they’re ready.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

chapter 3:

Nico scanned the room he was left in. He knew logically that he was safe. That he was allowed to be… gay. And that the people that just overheard his conversation with Percy likely didn’t hate him for it.

They probably do hate you though. Even you can’t like yourself.

He just… didn’t like that knowledge to be floating around.

It was then, after observing all the sleeping and uninterested patients that he saw the face of a particular blonde peering through a corner.

“Hey. Sunshine. I see you.” Nico said trying to mask his worry.

How long had he been there?

Will exhaled a laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… stalk…? I was going to check up on you but you were talking with Percy and I did to want to interrupt.”

“How much did you overhear?” Nico asked, deciding to cut to the point.

Will turned pinker. “Nothing! I swear I wasn’t trying to listen into your conversation. I was just watching,” he said getting redder. “I mean-! I wasn’t like ‘watching’ watching. But I was also not listening. I was just waiting for an opening is all. So I could check up on you. Because that’s what I’m here to do right now. Check up on you that is.”

Will snapped his mouth shut, trying to stop the word-vomit from getting worse. He had a flight-or-flight look in his eyes, as if how Nico responded would be the deciding factor in how this interaction went. He wished Will hadn’t stopped. He couldn’t pin down the exact reason why he liked hearing that incoherent mess of speech, but he did. It took a bit longer for him to realize that while he was brain was occupied by the rambling of the boy across from him, it was too full to waste energy on worrying.

Nico tried -really tried- to think of something comforting or cringe-reducing to say but he could help it when a laugh slipped out.

And another. And one more. And five seconds later he was miserably failing to stifle his giggles with his left hand.

“Wha-“ Will started. “What is it? Are you ok?Did one of my siblings but you on laughing gas or something? It was Kayla wasn’t it?!”

This made Nico laugh even harder. “Oh gods no. You’re just really weird. In a good way. You kept on saying more and it made it get worse and worse.” He laughed again. “Thank you for that. Holy hades I needed a good laugh.”

Will didn’t even flinch when Nico described his little speech as pathetic. If anything, it seemed to make him more confident. Composed. “Well I’m glad you feel joy at my expense,” he said rolling his eyes. “And you have a pretty laugh too. I like hearing it.” He smiled at Nico, his gaze moving to the glow between them.

Oh right.

Stop getting comfortable. Especially with him.

Nico shifted in his seat, moving so his arms are crossed with his left ring-finger covered by his arm. He failed to avert his gaze from Will’s disappointed eyes.

See? Even if it weren’t wrong, you could never be with him. You fail everybody, and Will is no different.

A few beats of silence.

“So uh… checkup?” Nico suggested.

“Yes! Right. Let me just…” he trailed off. Something about clipboards and procedures that Nico did not have to energy nor interest to pay attention to.

Will got the information he needed. Apparently a lot of Nico’s story was already in the documents.

“Like I said: I know your history,” Will stated with faux-intimidation. Nico rolled his eyes.

When they got to the physical checkup Nico started getting jittery. He felt awkward saying something to Will about it, but he really didn’t like being touched so much. Especially because Will’s hands were so… methodical. It was bringing him back.

To the times of your torment? Good. Revel in it. In the feeling of pain. Relive it all. Maybe if you look tortured enough somebody will even pity you. Why do you think you want that so badly? You know how hard it is to be yourself. Trying to share that burden with somebody else is plain selfish.

Will noticed. Probably. He didn’t point it out, but he tried to lighten the mood, albeit with terrible references to things Nico did not have the current cultural knowledge to understand.

Something about Nico being “Mr. Perfectly Fine” when asked about he was feeling. Or responding to Nico’s remarks about his werewolf scratches with saying, “oh! ‘Tis but a flesh wound I see!” (He seemed really proud of himself with that one). And he kept calling Nico a “padawan”? What even was that?

Yet, despite the utter confusion that had overtaken Nico, it was a good distraction. Will had or hadn’t brought a laugh out of him a couple of times. Nico was or was not starting to feel a lot more comfortable, especially with Will around.

And the string they shared absolutely was not glowing more warmly with each passing moment they spent together. Of course not. Never.

~~~

After that checkup, Nico offered to help around the infirmary. He did this, of course, hoping that his complete lack of any medical knowledge and “aura of death” would be enough for Will to refuse the offer.

He did not.

Figures.

What Will did do however, was introduce anyone and everyone imaginable to Nico. Whether that be random patients, his siblings, his Roman siblings that he (being the social-magnet-golden-retriever that he was) had gotten close with after the war, or some poor soul that happened to be within the vicinity of the two of them. It was weird. Nico didn’t know how to feel. Nobody had treated him like a person they could show others to. He was usually hidden away. Chose to keep himself hidden away.

Nico was starting to like being seen though. It helped that Will was there too. Unlocking the prison of isolation Nico had made for himself and dragging him into interactions when they were in the middle of filing paperwork. When he introduced Nico to a new person, he almost sounded proud. Like knowing Nico was something they could envy about Will.

“Oh hey [person] have you met my friend Nico?” Will would say. “Yeah he’s the coolest kid in camp! Go on Nico say hi,” pride radiating from his voice. “We met a few days ago when he almost stabbed me haha. He really saved my skin out there. Even if he was seconds away from passing out while doing it.”

Nico would never admit it, but he kind of liked the attention Will was giving him. It was as if Will’s words of affirmation were able to fight off the self-doubt demons would otherwise occupy much of Nico’s thoughts.

Not only that, but he also liked meeting people.

Yes. Him. Nico di Angelo. The son of Hades. Well known social recluse. Enjoying the communion of others.

Was that new? He thought he was an introvert to the core. The idea of people was supposed to make him want to hide under a rock a perish. Was it just that he was so much of a social outcast that he fooled himself into thinking that?

Dear gods, he was not going to spend the time going down that rabbit hole any further.

Nico felt a tug on his string finger. Will had started doing that in order to touch Nico without touching him. Nico hadn’t decided yet how he felt about it. Well, his heart obviously had, but he’s choosing to ignore that stubborn organ in all matters pertaining to Will. He looked up, slowly bringing himself back to reality.

Back to the storage/office room they were (as Will had put it) “chillin’” in. Back to the smell of antiseptic spray and old files. Back to the blonde idiot staring into his soul, seemingly trying to solve a puzzle.

“…what?” Nico broke the silence.

Will stared for a beat longer. “You were staring off into space for a while. Are you ok?”

He thought for a moment too long.

“Yes,” was the response Nico decided on.

Will stared even deeper with a curious look. “…ok… sure. What were you thinking about then?”

Nico was just about to bark out a basic response of “oh nothing”, or something like that, but he stopped himself. He didn’t need to hold himself back. Not when Will was looking at him in that eager and open way that he does.

“I was thinking about how much in my life has changed,” since you entered into it, “in the past few days.”

Maybe he didn’t say the whole truth, but Will was enough to make him no outright lie.

“Really?” Will backed off some, face turning from questioning frown to genuine smile. “How so?”

Oh. So this was gonna be some cheesy heart-to-heart, was it? Nico was not opposed to that idea. He looked back up at Will’s bright expectant eyes.

He actually rather liked the idea.

He talked to Will. He was trying to keep it short (Will was always busy) but the more he talked, the more they kept talking. And talking. And talking. Somehow they moved from life the last few days to life in the past few years. Family, in all possible definitions of the word. Friends, in all their shades, hues, and complexities. Enemies, in all their surprising humanity.

Will’s voice changed depending on what he was saying. He slurred together his words when they were talking about old interests. He would pause or stutter when they transitioned to deep topics, and slowed down when they got comfortable there. His voice got all jittery and slightly more high pitched when he was excited about something.

And the way he listened… the way it felt like he hung onto every word Nico said like it was written in scripture…

Nico kept wondering when Will would leave. He would find some excuse about having to check up on a patient, or outright say he didn’t want to stay there.

Wouldn’t want to stay with you. Why would anyone want to spend time with you. You’re boring him and he will leave you—

But Will hasn’t left. How long has they been there? They sat down on a nearby desk a while ago. Will was still with him.

Will, talking about his mom and how much he misses her. Will, listening to Nico’s stories of his childhood in Italy. Will, leaning into the beats of silence that would occasionally fall between them with a rare comfort. Will, inching closer to Nico with each passing second. Will, making their string glow impossibly brighter with the effect he had on Nico. Will, coiling the string around his fingers until there was no space between his and Nico’s hands. Will, cutting himself off mid-sentence just to graze Nico’s hand.

Will. Will. Will.

How long had it been? It was dark outside. Not that Nico cared. In the moment all that Nico cared about was right by his side, chatting animatedly, listening with care, leaning against Nico as he got more tired. Nico couldn’t imagine falling asleep now. His heart was beating so fast one would think he was about to be killed by some monster.

For some reason this moment felt more important than any of those past life-or-death experiences. He was safe. Nobody was in danger. But all those times he was fighting to live. Now he’s living to be alive.

With Will.

He looked over at the boy now resting on his shoulder and smiles. His mouth slightly open and he’s just barely snoring. It’s adorable. Nico’s heart warms with affection.

Affection. He liked using that word in this moment. He smiled.

He liked using that word for Will.

~~~

The Apollo Cabin did not cut him any slack when he brought a sleeping Will back in a bridal carry late into the night.

~~~

“Hey! It’s Mr. Perfectly Fine!” Will exclaimed to his siblings when Nico had entered the infirmary office.

Nico had caught a glimpse of Will hunched over his desk, with an exhausted expression written on his face just as Nico had walked in. It seemed like he was talking to his siblings, Kayla and Austin, about how he can “totally handle all this work” and that he’s “not burnt out”. They however, were willing to drop that conversation to snicker at Nico regarding whatever it was Will had just said.

“Seriously? You have no other jokes,” Nico retorted. “What is that referencing? I’m convinced you’re making it up at this point.”

“Oh please, at this point it’s your fault for not being a part of the Taylor Nation,” Kayla chimed in.

“I’ve been here for two days!”

Kayla crossed her arms. “That’s two whole days of Taylor Swift that you could have been listening to.”

Nico rolled his eyes and looked to Austin, the one person left who hadn’t taken a side against him.

“What?” He responded. “They’re right. All the effort you’ve made to avoid Taylor Swift is really some Kanye behavior.”

Nico hated his past self. Why did he decide to start hanging out with the Apollo Cabin? They were one mess of snarky comebacks joined together by their obsession over various musicians.

“I’ve been helping out! Would you really rather have me be wasting oxygen while listening to Swift?” Nico asked the cohesive mass.

“Yes!” They all shouted in (a partially harmonized) unison.

Nico groaned and sat on the chair he had placed next to Will’s desk the last time he was in this office. He’s only been here for three days and yet he has a spot for him. Next to Will.

The siblings talked about some infirmary stuff. Work schedules, post-war stuff, some new Roman ailments they learned about. Nico tuned it out, picking at his hangnails.

Some time later, the door Nico had just come through slammed open with an uninterested Drew Tanaka on the other end.

“Hey shitheads! I need drugs!” She said.

Nico raised an eyebrow at her and turned to look at Will, hoping he would translate.

Without looking up from his desk, Will rolled his eyes and said, “Sweet baby Zeus, can’t you just say ibuprofen like a normal person?”

He pushed back on his chair to get up, but Kayla pushed him right back.

“Nuh-uh. I’ve got this. You stay here and take a break with your,” she looked at Nico, “dude-best-friend.” She winked at him.

She headed out the door, with Drew on her heels.

The three left in the room looked at each other. A silent conversation played out between Will and Austin that lasted for much longer than a silent conversation has any right to last. Nico was glad to not be involved in it, whatever it was.

Austin sighed. “I guess I’ll go with them to make sure they don’t blow anything up.”

“Again,” Will added.

With a quick finger-gun-snap to his brother, Austin left.

The door creaked it as it closed.

“Wait,” Nico put his elbows on the desk. “How many explosions have they caused?” He thought for a second. “How do they even cause explosions to happen?”

He waits for a second more. Will is writing something down. Nico probably shouldn’t have interrupted by talking. He needed to be more conscious about his actions. Especially now that he is friends with Will. What was it Kayla said? “Dude-best-friend”? Yeah. He needed to be a better dude-best-friend. Not that they were “best friends”. It was probably just some slang or something. If they were even considered to be best-

Thunk.

Will face-planted onto his desk.

“Shit.” How long had he been working? “Are you ok?”

Will held up a hand to give a thumbs-up before dropping it back down to his desk. Will started snoring.

Nico knew there was a right way to react to this. Will probably had the answer for him. But Nico couldn’t find it in himself to do anything but stare. Stare and think. Like he was moving in slow motion but the rest of the world wasn’t kind enough to take note.

Was this normal for Will? Did he just collapse at his desk from time to time? No. He was always preaching his gospel of “taking care of yourself” and whatnot. This had to be a one-off thing.

He’s probably fine, right? Sure, he’s probably a little bit burnt out, but it’s not life and death or anything.

Yeah good idea. Bury your problems. Maybe one day you’ll share a grave with them.

How could he even think like that? “Not life and death,” so many things are not life and death but they are still worth worrying about.

Nico is a terrible friend. He needs to be worrying more about Will. Will needs help.

And how the hell do you expect to help him? Name one time you weren’t a burden to somebody. Every time you try to do something it fails. Just stop.

Gods. He was pathetic. His friend was passed out in front of him, and he was standing there, frozen. He should do something. He needed to do something. He just. He- he had to-

You always let people down. You’re too pitiful to help anyone.

No! He could help!

Will laid there fully unaware of the warfare happening in Nico’s mind. Someone looking in would likely find his state of rest to look peaceful. He was just a tired kid doctor in a tiny room filled with papers and files.

Outside that room was a couple of teenagers bickering about ibuprofen and explosives. It was a conversation severely lacking in context for the onlookers not in said conversation.

Even further beyond there were children doing dangerous and mundane activities. Somewhere a kid first encountered a monster. A man proposed to his girlfriend to the joy of an entire restaurant. A man proposed to his boyfriend to the shock, disgust, and joy of a small park. A child wrote a letter that never got read to her father fighting in a war. A species that was never discovered went extinct. A group of teenagers got high on the roof of a parking lot. A tired mother decided to quit smoking for the third time that year. A grandparent met their first grandson.

And back in that small room with too much paper and a sleeping boy, a damaged kid sees nothing but the worst of it.

Nico’s mind is a tunnel with no light at the end; flashing horrors crowding it out and letting no logic or hope in.

This was life-or-death. If Nico didn’t do something, he would be responsible for whatever happened to Will.

Will would know what to do. If Nico just knew Will better. If he just payed a bit more attention while Will worked. He must have been a terrible friend, having not cared enough to know how to handle this.

Finally, something you’re right about.

Gods! How could he even be drowning in this self pity now? Will needed help. He needed… caffeine? An intervention? He needed something and Nico needed to help. He could help. He needed to help. He needed-

His hand met a warmth. He looked down to see his and Will’s hands touching. Nico didn’t know when he started reaching for his hand. He let it sit there for a few beats of tense, heavy, warm silence.

His fingers moved without his consent to gently coil their string.

People say that, for soulmates, strings are able to pass emotions. The way one touches their string and the feeling they have while holding it are felt by the person on the other side.

Nico could… send some comfort? The thoughts would have made him laugh in any other circumstance. Him. Being the bringer of comfort. But in this instance, he could. There wasn’t anything else he coulddo.

No you cannot. You will lead yourself to heartbreak.

Will groaned. Nico flinched.

His hand twitched to reach out. To let Will know that “I’m here”. That “you can talk to me”.

You can’t do that.

He couldn’t do that though.

You don’t know how to comfort people.

He didn’t even know how to comfort people.

Just look in front of you, you let this happen under your watch.

He’d let this happen.

And here you are thinking to yourself instead of doing anything.

Gods! He just needed to focus. Think of some solution.

Just think! Just think! Just think! Just-

A door opened and Nico’s throat dropped, feeling like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have done. Which was stupid. He knew that.

He uselessly held his hands up and backed up, turning to the door. His body was frozen as thoughts of the thousands of ways the next few seconds could go all competed for his attention. He was a deer in the headlights, weakly looking past the person who was on the other end of the door. They looked at the scene in the room and raised an eyebrow.

“Nico? What happened?” Austin asked.

Austin! Thank the gods! He can-

“Help.” Nico creaked. “I don’t know what happened. Will, he…” Nico cut himself off. His throat was so choked up it was barely letting him say anything. It hurt. He didn’t realize he was this close to tears.

Fucking baby.

Austin rushed to his brother’s side and after a few moments sighed a breath of relief. “He’s fine. Just exhausted.” He took a few moments to give Nico a worried look. “Are you fine?”

Nico couldn’t respond. His body was still in fight-or-flight mode. He could only hear the pounding of his heartbeat, so strong it was like it was coming directly from his ears. There was to much happening. He just needed to calm down. He also had to respond. He had to look normal. He had to help with-

“Everything is fine.” The mantra he repeated in his mind. “He’s just exhausted. He’s ok. I’m ok.”

No you’re not. No he’s not.

Austin just confirmed that there was nothing to worry about.

You just don’t care enough about Will to keep worrying for him.

“I’m ok,” he finally responded, voice even more shaky.

Austin made a doubtful look and walked over to a shelf, pulling out some ball. He handed it to Nico, placing it in a hand he had not realized was shaking until then. He squeezed it and it was cushiony, but firm.

“Breathe with me,” Austin said simply.

And they breathed together. Slowly in. Holding it. Slowly out. Holding it.

After a minute or so he asked “would you mind if I brought Kayla here too?”

Shrugging, Nico lied. “I don’t mind. I’m fine really.” Although he didn’t know why he was still trying.

“No, you’re not.”

Austin steps out of the room and sticks his head out the door, peering down the corridor. “Kayla!”

Nico heard a muffled, “What?! I’m busy!”

Again shouting back, “Just come over here please!”

Some shuffling. Some footsteps. “What’s up?”

Austin stepped aside and let her view the scene. Her eyes softened and she walked over towards where Nico stayed standing.

“Oh Gods Nico, what’s wrong?” She asked him.

He tried for a dry laugh. “Nononono I’m fine. I was just a little-“ he choked. He hopelessly tried to steady his voice. “Just a little worried for Will is all.”

Kayla’s eyes immediately went wide with panic at the mention of his brother’s name. “What happened? Is he ok?” She looked over to his desk.

Austin stepped up to his sister, putting a hand on her arm. “He’s alright Kay. Just a little exhausted,” he said. They looked like they were having a silent conversation for a moment after that ended when they both looked back at Nico.

“Do you want to sit and talk for a bit?” Austin eventually asked.

“It doesn’t have to be about anything important,” Kayla added. “Or anything at all. Like, if you need silence with company we got you. Or silence without company. Or company without silence. Or any other combination. Or some other secret option. Or-“

“Company without silence is just the first choice you said,” Austin interrupted

Kayla thought for a second. “It is, isn’t it? It feels like there should be more combinations of those words though.”

“No company with no silence.”

“Ok but does that actually make any sense? Unless you talk to yourself professionally you wouldn’t be alone and without silence.”

“I would say that I can be alone without silence. I’m an interesting guy, I have fun talking to myself.”

“Yeah well, you’re just lonely so-“

A laugh escaped from Nico. They both looked at him.

“Sorry,” he said, for once with a steady voice. “The way you guys talk to each other is really funny to watch.” It reminded him of how he was with Bianca when they were younger. They used to argue all the time, sometimes escalating into screaming matches. Their mother would always step in and say something wise and meaningful that completely went over Nico and his sister’s heads. If Bianca were both alive now, would it be like this? Would their arguments not be out of malice but sibling love? What would that have looked like with them?

Kayla rested an arm on her brother’s shoulder as he looked at her with fake disgust. “We are, aren’t we?” She asked him.

“I really don’t think you’re ‘funny’. If anything funny looking.”

Kayla walked over to a circular table and sat down. “Oh please. I’m the hottest sibling. No contest.”

Austin followed her, taking a seat for himself. “If that’s what you want to believe, I will let you continue living with that lie.”

Kayla scoffed and looked back at Nico. “Wanna join the order of the round table?”

Yes.

“I uh… Are you sure it won’t get in the way of,” he waved his hand around at the general vicinity, “infirmary duties?”

“Not really,” Austin answers. “We did rounds this morning and everybody just needs more time to heal with the meds and magic,” which he embellished with spirit fingers, “and we already gave them their afternoon doses. Unless there’s some random emergency-“

“Or Drew comes back demanding drugs again,” Kayla added.

“Or that, then we’re just chilling.”

Nico wanted to say yes.

Don’t fool yourself kid. They don’t want you there. You’re just being a burden. They seem to be having a great time without-

Nico squeezed the ball. He moved to the table. He smiled and they smiled back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Author’s Note:

thank you so much for reading!! To that one person who commented on my last fic saying they needed more: thank you specificially. And I’m sorry specifically for you because the wait for the next one is going to be worse than a cartoon hiatus. Tho I’m actually going to be spending that time writing instead of feeling guilty for not writing to that’s a win. also I have an Ao3 now so that’s cool

#solangelo #pjo #nico di angelo #percy jackson #will solace #solangelo fics

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