vespirus
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"In my utopia, en-Daniil, even death will hold no fear for us." A vial was pressed to his lips. "For your life. For our utopia. Daniil. Drink. I can save you still."
Despite it all, he trusted her. Trusted her even knowing she was lying. Some dark thing, whispering evils in his ear. How did she know he was sick? He didn't think he was sick.
He knew this was her magnetism, her sick powers bending him before her like the town under a tyrant just as everyone had warned.
He drank.
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The Institute did have a dress code after all, and Martin had made sure to read it back to front. He was used to ignoring the discomfort of a ‘male’ dress code; violations had already cost him a couple promising desk jobs. He wasn’t going to waste the luck he had in getting this job by trying to do something as trivial as feel comfortable or (god forbid) happy.
Martin grapples with dysphoria in the office, and finds that the Lonely gives him more room to be himself away from prying eyes.
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She was more Mistress than woman – a concept, an authority, an abstract. Nina Kaina was not a woman, she was an entity. A god, even. Reigning over creation and destruction. Eradicating that which didn’t fit her vision to make way for the glory of her own conception.
He watched her conquests with relish. -
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The only true difference between the sacred and the profane lies in their distinction from each other. To save his people, and to turn a false bride to a true one, all Burakh needs is вера.
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“The town is blocked off, Eva. There is no hope.”
His words still echoed in her brain, they had initially sent her into throes of woeful anguish, she had thrown herself to his chest and sobbed there for a long while. That night he had stayed up a while with her, shown her ways of breathing to overcome her anxieties as he held her hands in his leather clad grasp.
“If nothing else works, try to get some sleep or get drunk at least.”
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mith·ri·da·tism
(noun)
1. tolerance to poison acquired by ingesting gradually increased doses, often to one’s long-term detriment- Words:
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Bookmarked by vespirus
24 Jul 2026
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It would be a moment’s work to teleport Zoro back to the Polar Tang. When he was younger, Law always craved being alone, would cultivate his personal space like the many specimens he now keeps in the fridge of the bio lab. It’s getting harder and harder to do these days, with his crew returned to him; with so many alliances to uphold, between samurai and Minks and Straw Hats; with Zoro, in his bed, in his thoughts. Just a word, a gesture, and Zoro would be banished from his side, and Law left alone yet again to wander through snow and silence. “I’m going to church,” Law says at last.
Zoro’s expression is patient — waiting for a protracted punchline to a joke. Law lets him wait.
“Oh,” Zoro says. “You’re serious.”
Bookmarked by vespirus
23 Jul 2026
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It’s said that soulmate marks are gifts from the gods. Certainly, more than this has been said but, well. Luffy’s never really been one for gods or any of that stuff. Those stories are always so boring and long-winded.
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Bookmarked by vespirus
23 Jul 2026
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If there was ever a reason to eat a Devil Fruit, Zoro supposes it would be in the process of saving his idiotic buffoon of a captain from a certain and most horrible death.
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- 10,626
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by vespirus
23 Jul 2026
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When Zoro was 23, one of his friends got married. Just a few days prior, he and others from their crew (as the five of them called themselves) had argued over a group phone call during which Zoro had hung up on them. No one could have predicted what this would lead to.
Now, seven years later, his partner got an invitation from a close acquaintance to a two-day party celebrating her husband's newly opened third business location. Zoro's only problem was that it took place in the same city where he lived all those years ago. He just hoped he wouldn't run into anyone he knew.
But as always, fate had a strange sense of humour.
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- English
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Bookmarked by vespirus
21 Jul 2026