#15 men on a dead man’s chest

[apieters]

Swashbucklers of the Magic Kingdom-“Marlin Spike”

I drew a comic!

This is my first comic strip I’ve ever drawn. I was inspired by @temiree’s and @kingdomblade’s great comics, Little Runt and Lesser than Three (respectively—you should seriously check them out, they’re great) to try drawing my own characters in comic format. I’m quite pleased with the result, for a first attempt.

This scene is actually canon for my characters, as it will definitely make its way into the written version of Swashbucklers of the Magic Kingdom, my Disney fanfic about how Simba’s son, Kopa, needs to be bodyguarded by the two fight choreographers behind all the Disney film fight scenes. This segment of the story will feature Chris and André—the fight choreographers and eponymous swashbucklers—taking Kopa on a treasure-hunting expedition alongside their old friends Captain Hook, Captain Jack Sparrow, Jim Hawkins, and Silver—an endeavor that is sure to go smoothly and won’t involve any entanglements with the corrupt East India Company, Captain Jack promises.

[azsazz]

Dead by Dawn (Part 15)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death, mentions of cannibalism, SMUTTT

Word Count: 2,421

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14)

Notes: okay, I’ve missed this one. It hits. (3/6 of 6 updates for 6k 💙)

_________________________________________

Day 195

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You’re beginning to really hate the decision to leave.

Not only because of the three walkers you’ve seen, all with missing jaws, but there’s a niggling in the back of your mind, screaming at you about Feyre and Rhys. You shouldn’t have left the house, no matter how harrowing the sight you, Cassian, and Azriel had stumbled upon was. 

Cassian and Azriel, the two men who have been taking care of you since. The former had stayed up all night smoking the deer meat over the fire until it was nothing but smolders and a carcass left. You had intended to stay up with him until he was finished but Azriel had pulled you between his legs and all but forced you to lean against him with your head on his chest.

“Sleep,” he’d demanded gruffly, but his fingers brushing the hem of your t-shirt to find your skin were soft, soothing as he traced patterns. His lips were warm against your forehead, his breaths even and strong against your back that had lulled you into sleep in a matter of moments.

You’d been woken up by gentle strokes, the moon high in the sky. Both men had decided that you’d need to move campsites in case any zombies or wild animals were attracted to the carcass. The three of you stumbled through the woods, sticking close to each other. You’d quieted at the soft sound of a creek trickling through the brush and you’d been able to fill your canteens before Cassian washed the blood from his hands and forearms.

By the time the sun had washed its yellow rays upon the sky, you had found your way back to the main strip of highway and have been following it since. The little sleep that Azriel forced you to get had helped a little, but the anxiety rushing through your body at the thought of Feyre and Rhysand out here alone keeps you wired and focused only on made up scenarios of what could have gone wrong.

Had they made it back to the van? Had they tried to come back to the house only to find the letter Azriel had left them? Had they taken the warning and found gas, drove up the road until they’d seen the Eryef signs her sisters had left her? 

“Stop overthinking, sweetheart,” Cassian breaks the silence. He wraps an arm around your shoulder swiping his thumb across the crease in your brows. “We’ll find them.”

“You don’t know that,” you huff, wringing your fingers together. Azriel peers over his shoulder from where he’s scouting ahead, stopping in his tracks until the both of you catch up. You can’t look at either man right now. If it weren’t for you, you’d probably all be back together as a group, or at least waiting safely back at the house of horrors. “We shouldn’t have left them.” 

Azriel pulls you straight into his arms and Cassian closes the pack by pressing his firm body against your back. You’re enveloped by arms and warmth, soaking in both of their confidence that both Feyre and Rhysand are safe and to keep moving is the correct decision for your group of three.

You’re still not quite used to this side of Azriel. How he’s more open to you than before, like it’s been just as much of a struggle to keep away from you as it has been for you. He’s no longer afraid to pull you into his side or chest or arms should he sense your overworking mind. You’re much like him in that way, always playing out every scenario before anything happens. It’s a hard habit to break, one that has gotten him this far, saved his ass more than once, and by the Mother he’ll do whatever he needs to to make sure you find them. 

“Feyre is safe with Rhys, and he is safe with her,” Azriel starts, planting his palms on either side of your cheeks. The marred skin is soft against your cheeks and he tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look in his eyes. The gold in them is stern, as are his following words. “We’re going to see what this Eryef is all about because that’s where they’ll go when they see the signs. We’re going to meet them there and all will be alright.”

“Well, as alright as things can be with the apocalypse and all,” Cassian adds, nuzzling his nose into the juncture of your jaw. The brush of his lips makes you want to laugh, but you’re frozen beneath Azriel’s stare.

“Okay?” he asks you, and he tries to ignore the way that Cassian’s kissing down your neck, running his hands from your hips up your sides. He tries to ignore the way your fingers clutch to the hem of his shirt in response, and the way that your lids flutter. He steps into you and you can feel their stiff cocks pressing into you from front and back. The air is shoved from your lungs the closer they lean. “We’re worrying about us first. We can’t help them if we can’t help ourselves, first. We need to stay level headed, right?”

His lips slanting against yours are all too convincing of that.

“Right?” he asks against your mouth, and you nod, gasping when Cassian’s fingers dip into the waistband of your pants. You grind your hips, drawing delicious moans from both men.

“Right,” you whine, fingers raking down Azriel’s chest. You need them, both of them right now, even in the middle of the fucking forest in the middle of nowhere. You don’t fucking care. “Need you both.”

“If we’re giving her what she needs,” Cassian says, leaning over you to caress Azriel’s jaw. He tucks his thumb and is tipping his chin back, gold eyes clashing with hazel. It makes Azriel’s throat bob and from your vantage point you want to crane your neck and lick over it. “Then we can’t deny her this, Azzy.”

He hums languidly but it chokes off when you press onto your toes to lap across the skin of his throat. It’s salty, musky, and his fingers on your hips tighten. It makes your legs clench together and your cunt drip with want.

“We shouldn’t,” Azriel groans because Gods does he want to. But he’s feeling too exposed out here like this, all tangled up with his lovers. It muddies his mind and if you’re all too preoccupied with the taste of each other, he worries you’ll attract walkers. “Not enough protection.”

“Don’t have any condoms,” Cassian mumbles against Azriel’s mouth.

“From walkers,” Azriel growls, biting at Cassian’s lips. It’s meant as a warning but all it does is make Azriel’s cock jump at the thought of your tight heat milking him dry. He wants to fill you up, watch Cassian fuck his way into you until you’re a moaning mess, leaking their seed. 

He’s right, though. You shouldn’t be doing what you’re doing even now. Anyone could be near hearing the three of you fooling around, dead or alive. It’s a dangerous situation that lust is trying to paint its way over, and no matter how badly you need to feel the press of their bodies against yours again, you need to be careful about it.

“I’m going to find you both a house,” Cassian says gruffly, disappointment lacing his heady tone. He brushes Azriel’s hair back with one hand, and with the other he’s holding you tightly. “One with a fence and room big enough for a garden. We’re going to find a place for Feyre and Rhys nearby, but not so close that they hear me fucking the both of you all day and all night.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head at his words. He says them like he means them, like this is going to happen, and you can admit that it sounds like heaven. Spending the rest of your days with the two of them, always together, never lonely.

“‘M gonna take care of you both,” he continues, tone going soft with promise. Both you and Azriel lean into him, cradling him close. Your stomach twists a little at the thought that passes through your mind like a shooting star. “We’re going to be okay.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Only a few more miles,” Azriel says sometime later, when you’re taking a break. You’re munching on some of the meat Cassian had stowed away last night. You’d all been very lucky with that kill. Animals lurking the woods are a lot less common as they were at the beginning of the apocalypse, with all of the roaming zombies hungry for flesh and blood. They’ll take a bite out of anything with a pulse.

The meat is chewy and bland, but it’s better than most things you’ve eaten since the world ended. There was once when you and Feyre had to force down handfuls of flowers to ease the hunger pains contorting your bodies, but they hadn’t tasted as good as they smelled, but they’d kept you alive. 

“We should be there by nightfall, I reckon.”

You nod, forcing yourself to swallow. You’re not complaining, but your throat protests around the chewed meat, dry as it scrapes down your windpipe. Coughing, you try to dislodge it, and Cassian hands you his canteen to wash it down with. You beam gratefully at him.

“Do you think anyone will be there?” You ask, examining the jerky. “What do you think we’ll find?”

Azriel sighs as he thinks, leaning back against the tree behind him. His gold eyes scour the woods surrounding you. When they pass over your body and they rove down, drinking you in, then does he answer. “Hopefully we can at least find shelter.” 

You clench your thighs together. Clearly, he hasn’t forgotten about earlier when the three of you had been pressed so tightly together you were nearly one. Cassian shifts too and you can see the slight tenting of his jeans. Goosebumps awaken on your flesh as his bare arm brushes yours.

You’re about to speak but a twig snapping draws all of your attention, freezing in your spots.

You shove the rest of the meat into your mouth because by the Mother you will not waste it. Your body is tight with anticipation, and you draw your blade silently from your belt, preparing for the worst.

You peek a glance at Cassian, who shrugs a little. His hazel eyes are sharp, but he can’t see anything any more than you can. He sends a questioning glance over to Azriel, who silently shakes his head. He can’t see anything either.

The unmistakable groan of a walker sounds in the distance and your spine goes straight. It’s about time you’ve seen one. It’s been much too quiet as of late, and you pray to any God that will listen that it’s not a horde.

Slowly, you follow Cassian’s lead to stand. He offers you a hand and you move as silently as you can. Azriel’s already on his feet and moved closer to you. You hadn’t noticed how quickly and quietly he can be when he wants to. 

You’re kind of envious.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulders, both men cover you while you work it into place until your knife is back up at the ready. 

“C’mon you filthy vermin,” a voice cuts through the woods, not caring how loud they are. It carries through the trees easily, like an open field, though you still can’t see anything. “Just a  few more steps.”

It’s a low voice, but unmistakably a woman’s. She sounds agitated as well, especially when the male voice that follows is nothing but a sweet, teasing trap. “Ease up, fawn. We have all day.”

“We don’t,” she disagrees. “Elain will wake soon and if something happens,” her voice pitches higher in distress and the male’s one turns soothing.

“Her condition hasn’t changed in months, Nes. She’ll hold on another day.”

You exchange glances with Cassian and Azriel but the confusion painting their faces is the same as that of yours. What the hell are they talking about?

The sound of a zombie groaning breaks them apart. The woman spits curses at it and her male counterpart chuckles. Cassian presses closer when the voices trail your way.

“All in good time, fawn,” the man says again and he’s back to calling her that nickname. 

“It’s not my fault that they’re so damn stupid. I swear, it’s like being at University all over again.”

You hold your breath as he laughs and she huffs.

There’s a loud snap, the sound of something crunching nearby. It’s a little too close for any of your liking, and when the two of them step around a large oak, finally in your line of vision, they halt.

You watch the smiles slip from their faces, their eyes going hard. Their hands are tangled together but they rip apart as they reach for their weapons. 

You, Azriel, and Cassian raise yours in defense, but no one moves.

The man’s auburn eyes blaze over the three of you, calculating. His features are sharper than the blade in your hand, eyes hard like he could light you on fire with a single look. His copper hair is finger rifled, tousled on the top of his head, but the unruly look works on him. You wonder if the smattering of freckles dusting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose are marks of all of his kills.

The woman beside him, however, somehow looks even more menacing. The hard lines around her mouth must be from frowning most of her life, much like she is now. Her dirty golden-brown hair is braided back from her face in two long plaits. There’s a bow strapped across her back, and you’re lucky that the three of you caught her whilst she was distracted.

She looks familiar, though, so familiar that it only takes you a moment to place her until you’re dropping your arm and stepping forward, ignoring how Azriel and Cassian grab for you.

The girl’s gray-blue eyes are sharp, deadly even. Her knife is curved and razor-edged, dark blood from her latest kill dripping off of the tip. She doesn’t look like she’s willing to extend any pleasantries in the slightest, but if the next three words out of your mouth don’t stop her from killing the three of you, then maybe you deserve it.

“You’re Feyre’s sister.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

DBD Taglist: @writingsbychlo @kemillyfreitas @5moremin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @waggel36 @bionic-donut @que-serasera @applepie02 @azrielsbabyg @arcadianmoonlight @pradaxstyles @illyrian-dreamer  @reiincarnatiion @fuckthatfeeling @shadowsingersmate24  @poppyalice2001 @fall-myriad @sstrohma @tcris2020@jeannineee @21stcenturytaegi@ochiolism @secretly-here @harrystylesfan2686 @i-am-infinite

[konigsblog]

sex with könig during a mission

warnings: non graphic detail injuries, smut

you were definitely known as the risk taker in the team. always taking a risk whether it was to save someone else or just for the thrive of it.

a humvee rolled up, you and your teammates jumped in and got ready for this mission. this mission was risky, you had to gather intel whilst your team members took down others.

when you looked for a place to sit, there was only a small space between könig and ghost. you sighed to yourself and rolled your eyes at nothing, since being the smallest member on the team you were always crushed between two burley men. one who made the worst jokes ever and the other being awkwardly quiet.

you squeezed in between them. both mens knees touching against yours as you felt like suffocating. you could smell the gunpowder, sweat, and mens cologne. fuck, you could probably smell ghosts 15 in 1 thats how close you were.

-

they arrived at a stop and everyone jumped off, their guns ready and up ready to shoot anyone who came in their way, and you were running in for information. a hand grabbed against your wrists tightly, "maus. careful."" he warned you, knowing about how risky you liked to be. "i will be." you ran off.

gunshots filled your ears as you ran, searching and looking for anything. a door flung open. a man, head to toe in gear, shot at your arm. you felt the blood slowly gush out your arm, you gritted your teeth. you were going to throw your knife but just as he was about to fire again, he dropped dead to the floor. a bullet in his head. könig came running behind you, "maus!! i said be careful!" he yelled, loud enough so he could hear you through the loud noises. he grabbed your arm and ran with you into a room. this neededd to be fixed fast and they didn't have enough time for a medic so he was your only choice.

"take your shirt off." he demanded, your cheeks flushed red. you knew he wasn't being trying to be sexual yet you continued to feel aroused by your teammate. and it seems he did too, his hand trying to cover the noticeable bulge. you did as you were told, discarding of your shirt and other gear on top. you were now in your cargos and bra.

the bulge increased fast, and you swear you hear a whinper as you touched your soft skin that was covered in blood from the open wound on your bicep. he cleaned your arm, seeing you wince at how it stung, and wrapped gauze around your bicep.

"könig." his eyes shot up at you, full of lust and arousal. you placed your hand on his chest, "maus." he pulled his mask up, only enough so that you could see his lips. both your lips crashed into eachother, teeth hitting eachother slightly. he was so hungry for you, just like you were for him.

he pushed up against you, his legs at either side of your hips his clothed dick grinding up against. both were moaning into the kiss. hips rolling against eachother and your eyes rolled back when you pulled away from the kiss.

your clothes were mostly off, leaving you half naked. he was shirtless and only hand his cargos and mask on as he unbuttoned his cargos, pulling them down slightly. you palmed him through his underwear. as you pulled it out, your eyes widened, mouth agape. you expected big but not that big. it was thick, maybe like 8 inches hard and a vein on the left as it curved upwards. some precum too.

königs hard dick slapped against his stomach, he positioned himself before sliding in roughly, without lube it was difficult to move since you were so tight and he was so big. you moaned in pain and pleasure, you didn't get a change to adjust as you were quickly hushed as he starting thrusting.

both of your moans and groans and whimpers had to be muffled to make sure no-one caught you. könig head buried into your neck. his strong arms grabbing your ass and waist pulling you in further to his sweaty body.

the sound of his balls slapped against your ass. you couldn't believe you were fucking your operator. god, he was hot.

nails scratched his back, digging into under his mask to reach his hair. playing around and tugging at his locks whenever he whimpered. "fuck, fuck, fuck ..." you could probably cum at the sound of voice.

"im gonna cum in you, heilige scheiße!"

his thick cum spurted in your tight cunt. he thrusted one more time making sure it was all in before pulling out. some cum dripping on your stomach.

königs head moved down to your cunt. fingers sticking into your wetness. he fingered you and licked at your dripping pussy. moaning, and his hot breath felt so good against your thighs.

a whimper came from you, "needy little cunt." könig moaned into your pussy.

your orgasm ripped through you. your legs were shaking and your felt so hot. suddenly, without warning, you were flipped on your stomach. he liften your hips up, before rutting into you. a loud moan came from your mouth, "quiet!" he hushed you.

the way his dick hitting all the right spots, you were starting to become cock drunk off him. "k-k-könig!!!" you cried out as he rammed into you. his back against yours, as he pushed his weight further down onto you. slightly crushing you.

it wasn't long until he came in you again, only now he pulled out and flipped you back onto your back, he made his way up to your head. you head between his thick, muscular thighs as he came all over your face and mouth. it tastes bitter but you felt addicted to the taste already.

both if you were panting, and both in shock that you just fucked eachother on a serious mission. "kö, we need to hurry. fuck, ouch." your back ached as you sat up. he grabbed your clothes and gear helping you in before helping you with you part if the mission.

-

"hey, c/s/n? why are you limping?" soap asked you, tilting his head in confusion. "ah... i got shot during the mission." you awkwardly laughed trying to break the awkward aroma in the room, only slightly making it worse with your attempt. i think from the hickeys on your neck and the muffled loud moans coming from a room that everyone knew.

-

c/s/n = call sign name

heilige scheiße = holy shit/fuck (idk the difference sorry LMAO)

[s0lar5ystems]

Imagine how Perimedes was feeling in Mutiny.

He's just lost 6 of his friends, people he's been with for years, after losing 557 other men, and his best friend.

As Eurylochus challenges Odysseus, all he can do is watch. That is the man whose choices killed most of Ithaca's men. Elpenor is dead because of him.

He sees that Eurylochus may win, but he can't be happy about it. He's lost too much for a change in leadership to repair.

He watches as Odysseus pushes him to the ground, sword pointed at Eurylochus's heart. And he has to do something.

He feels the pommel of his sword in his palm and he does what he has to.

To save his ship.

To save Eurylochus.

To honour Elpenor.

He thrusts his sword forward, stabbing Odysseus through the chest.

"My brothers, why?"

As Odysseus speaks, he realises what he's done. He stumbles back, dropping his sword. But after looks of pride and concern from his comrades, he tells Odysseus exactly what he thinks.

Odysseus is shocked. Not shocked because he didn't expect to be turned on, but more because he didn't expect Perimedes to be the one to take a stand.

Tears welled in his eyes as he spoke, thinking of every face, every soul that had been lost. They were all trapped on the wrong side of the Styx, unable to cross because Odysseus decided they couldn't wait to send them off properly. Elpenor was trapped.

He hadn't even noticed when Elpenor disappeared. Perimedes noticed as they prepared to leave Circe's island and asked, begged, for just 15 minutes to find him and get him on the ship. Odysseus said no.

Elpenor who, when he was taken by the lotus, asked Odysseus to leave him, as he looked happy for the first time in months.

Elpenor, who humoured him when he sang about his ambitions and his hopes for his life.

Elpenor, who caught him when he fell and was always there to make sure he was ok.

Elpenor, who helped him through the worst time of his life.

Perimedes doesn't even give the unconscious Odysseus a second glance as they sail to the nearest island.

And when Eurylochus carried him ashore and carefully patched up the wounds they both caused, Perimedes refusesd to go near him, instead leading a scout group to make sure they were alone on the island.

When Odysseus screamed for them to leave the island as quickly as they could, he listened. Not because of his respect for Odysseus, but because he didn't want to die on a desolate island surrounded by cows.

When Zeus appeared and threatened all of their lives or their captain's. He knew what he would choose, and tried to offer some of his comrades a final moment of comfort before they died.

And as he tumbled into the sea, he smiled.

Because he could see Elpenor, and every man who died.

If they were to sit on the shore of the Styx for an eternity, might as well do it with good company.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Interference

(Chapter 14 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Smoker x Reader (referenced), Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader (referenced), Doflamingo x Crocodile (referenced)

Chapter Warnings: language, somnophilia, non con, drugged reader, toxic relationships, violence, physical abuse, references to suicide, substance abuse, breeding kink, addictive personality, reader trauma response, mommy issues, angst

Chapter Synopsis: One step forward with Doflamingo is often also ten steps back. Neither of you have yet to learn the other’s limits, and trust is still being broken and reformed repeatedly. As you endure your latest challenge, former flames from both your past and his make their own plans to intervene.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15

——————————

—————————— 

Smoker hated this clandestine bullshit. But it’s not like he could have slept now either. Those newspapers were still splayed on his desk with your pictures across them. Just candlelight flickering through the room as his ship lurched over waves in the dead of night.

He exhaled from his cigars in frustration, his eyes back on the clock on the wall. How many hours did this really take to rendezvous? He hadn’t even wanted to turn back for Marineford.

He could have been nearly to Dressrosa by now if he hadn’t let the other man convince him to do this. 

All so stupid as they’d had to dance around their real intentions over the phone regardless. The Fleet Admiral had reiterated over and over that everyone was just going to stand by and let this play out for now.

It didn’t make a lick of goddamn sense. What kind of dirt did that freak Doflamingo really have on those that held his leash atop the Red Line? Why could any pirate possibly have this much leeway?

But at last Smoker had heard the door knob moving as he’d straightened up in his chair. The door shifted in that hesitant way which already told him who it was.

Tashigi poked her head in, whispering more than even necessary. “He’s here, sir!”

“Then move and let him in.” Smoker grumbled back to her, already trying to somewhat look past her as he stood from his desk.

The rattle of a rusty bicycle chain was the next sound though as it was wheeled in. Ice crystals were still melting from the tire treads as Aokiji passed Tashigi to fully enter the captain’s office. And she shut the door to remain in the room behind him as well.

“How many sailors saw you?” Smoker asked already, watching the admiral lean that somewhat sea salt corroded bicycle against the wall.

“Not many. But your men are loyal aren’t they?” You told them this wasn’t their business didn’t you?” Aokiji answered, then standing back to his full height once he’d set his bike aside.

“I’d like to think so.” Smoker replied, yet his expression making it clear that he was ready to jump right into this. They’d wasted enough time. “So what do you know about all this, Kuzan?” 

The initial shock to the news about you still had yet to wear off. But plans needed intel, they needed background. And just from tone alone in their short snail conversations, he knew Aokiji had figured some things out.

The two men were close friends. But the trust they shared was one of those innate things. This relationship hadn’t taken years to cultivate. Very similar in fact to what Tashigi was now becoming for Smoker as well, regardless of her greenhorn status and much lower rank. Some marines just clicked.

Comrades he knew he could trust his life to. There was no point in wondering why.

“She made a deal with Doflamingo in Sabaody. That’s why he let those slaves go from the auction house.” The admiral said abruptly then. But still with the air of a man now letting something painful off of his chest that he’d been holding in for too long. “I think Scylla was his way of collecting on that deal.”

Tashigi’s eyes had widened simultaneous to Smoker’s narrowing. But this was just the very beginning of these revelations. Smoker sensed that too in the way Aokiji was scowling. A rare expression on his normally neutral face. 

These were things the admiral didn’t want to talk about. But they couldn’t help you if they didn’t understand. They all needed to know the full extent of this.

“I confronted Doflamingo on Sabaody too. And I confronted her at HQ.” Aokiji confessed in response to Smoker’s continued glare “They were both hiding more. But they…well she told me they’d been together already. Physically. This didn’t start on Scylla. Maybe it didn’t even start on Sabaody.”

The quiet gasp from Tashigi was still so filled with confusion. And Smoker felt that immediately too. Because that just couldn’t be right. 

But he was human as well. And that moment of surprise bled into more complex feelings as his cigars moved with his words back to Kuzan, as disgust and even a hint of betrayal began to take hold. “From when? From when I was dating her?”

He’d called you his girlfriend for a little over two years. All the way until that fight in Mariejois. The morning he’d finally cut you free. You were going to burn yourself out and he couldn’t help you understand why. It felt so much longer ago now though. But it hadn’t been. Not really. 

“She would never cheat on you.” Tashigi surprised them both with those sudden words. “She’s not like that.” 

But her eyes already looked upset. Though she was doing her best now to not let the waterworks out. 

“I hadn’t seen her for three months before Mariejois though.” Smoker admitted. He’d already known by then that it was over, but he’d been waiting for the chance to have that conversation with you in person. He had never wanted to hurt you. 

Obviously you still hadn’t taken it well. But to run into the arms of a pirate? And of all of the crooks out there, it to be that one? Tsuru’s literal enemy? No, Smoker wasn’t accepting this as anything that simple. You’d always been far more complicated. And he was not the only one to have contributed to it.

For two years he had done his best with you. But you’d been looking for something in him that wasn’t there too. He knew he hadn’t been your first choice. Second place was nice for a while of course, but it was still just the first loser in the end. And Smoker could now see that the man who had preceded him to set that unmatchable standard was still out there in the weeds obviously. Not even realizing what was right in front of him.

Kuzan still just didn’t get it.

Out of respect, Smoker had kept his mouth shut for the longest time on this as well. It hadn’t been his business. But now you were in trouble. Your actual life was likely on the line as just a bit of that anger finally escaped to the surface.

“Dammit, Kuzan! You say you made her confess…so you knew something was up when the rest of us didn’t? Then why didn’t you help her then!?”

And the way Kuzan’s eyes immediately widened in surprise didn’t suit his rank at all as Smoker kept on. He had been holding this in for far too long.

“You’d started talking to her again after I broke it off with her, right? I mean immediately, you two were getting friendly again weren’t you? You walked her out of the damned bar that night with her hanging all over you! Wasn’t it obvious to you then!?”

“The hell are you on about!?” And now Kuzan was snapping back at him, though still clearly confused. “She was drunk and trying to get over you! You’re the one that hurt her in Mariejois!”

“Me!?” And Smoker’s chest rose at that. Maybe this fully was that old stereotype of some men not being able to see the forest for the trees. Emotionally blind in these kinds of things. But Smoker could only be angrier at this man because they were friends. He held Kuzan to a higher standard than this.

“Tashigi!” Smoker called her name abruptly to her additional surprise though. “What did she tell you? That very first time me and her had a big fight and she’d only hang out with you in port all that week. Tell this dummy what she said, because I know he won’t believe me now!”

And she looked from one man to the other in a bit of escalating panic. “But she told me that in private!”

“Well you already told me! And it’s relevant now!” Smoker retorted.

“I only told you so that you’d understand what she was upset about! I was trying to help!”

And it hadn’t helped in the long run. Had it? Maybe it’d only made things worse. “Tell him, Tashigi!” Smoker ordered her this time.

Her lip was quivering, but there was a rare indignation to her expression then as well. As if suddenly she was angry at both men herself. 

“She told me that the only real partners she’d ever had were Aokiji-san and Smoker-san! But that…” And she closed her eyes briefly, as if apologizing to you internally before she blurted out this secret that was so personal. “She said that neither of you had ever told her that you loved her! That she kept trying to earn it…and she didn’t think she ever could!”

But Smoker gave her a harsh look still. Because this was almost the whole truth. There was the one other point that’d really been the final nail in the coffin of his own relationship with you. And Kuzan needed to hear it. “And?” Smoker made her keep on. “Tell him the other thing!”

Tashigi’s eyes were open again. She looked to her captain almost pleadingly. “I can’t…”

Smoker scowled. That girl was just too loyal for her own good sometimes. But fine, he’d say it then. Everything needed to be out in the open at last.

“(Y/N) told Tashigi that she kept wanting to find what she’d had before. What she felt with you, you dumbass! You were the only man that she was in love with!”

And it still hurt even as Smoker said it aloud that easily now. It hurt just like it had from the first time he’d known it was true. “I wasn’t you, Kuzan. She was never going to be happy with me. But you’re such an idiot, even when I let her go and put her right back in front of you…you let a pirate pick her up instead!?”

And the main point had still sailed right over Kuzan’s head. Even now, he was hanging on to concepts from several sentences prior as he snapped at Smoker. 

“Why the hell did you date her for two years if you didn’t even love her!?”

Obviously their ranks were off the table currently. These were just two men now at each other like petulant brothers as Smoker fired so immediately back. 

“Well I wasn’t going to say something I wasn’t ready to say! I knew she was still so hung up on you! I was trying to see if she would ever get past it…I knew she was waiting on that word! But if I’d said it, she would have thrown herself away for me and have wanted to get married! She’d probably have wanted kids!” 

Something Smoker could not allow when he knew you’d only been with him as your consolation prize. Your insane drive for accolades, for reaching the top of their ranks had only been ancillary in the end. You were filling that need for validation any way you could. He alone never could have satisfied you, and he wasn’t going to trap you with him. Even if he could have.

But the outburst that came from Kuzan then was something even Smoker didn’t expect. An entire new revelation to hit both he and Tashigi right over the head.

“And what would be so wrong with wanting a family!?” The admiral exclaimed. The hurt in his voice more than anyone could have thought.

Something even Kuzan wasn’t prepared for from himself as Smoker saw that briefly vulnerable look go through his friend’s eyes.

But Smoker was still angry. Beside himself really as all this truth only made everything all the more wasteful.

“You jackass! Why did you ever leave her when you both wanted the same things!?”

And Kuzan looked stunned. But not for long. Never for long as he tried to withdraw into those same old excuses. “Because I can’t protect her! I’d rather be alone always instead of see that nightmare ever play out again!”

“Goddamnit!” Smoker cursed, but just looking fully disgusted now. He wasn’t going to come to blows with his own friend, though he still wasn’t done yelling at him. He had never met someone so innately good, but so thickheaded all at one time. “Marines die every day, Kuzan! She’s a marine! It’s what we goddamn do! She knows that!”

And both of them took a heated breath, Smoker turning away though to go back to his desk as he grabbed one of the newspapers. He shook it in the other’s face. Like a wake up call. You were in danger either way.

You were in danger right now while they were here arguing like children. “We both fucked up, alright!?” Smoker admitted. “I care about her too! She’s a hell of a marine and she’s my friend. Just like you are!” He said to Kuzan. “But now she’s in trouble. So I’m going to Dressrosa! Either help me or get out of my way!”

“You can’t openly defy Sengoku!” The admiral groaned shortly after though, willing to finally leave those mistakes of the past on pause for the moment. To stop screaming at each other and casting blame. The discussion of what to do now was the only reason he’d come here to begin with. “This has to be done the right way.” Kuzan reiterated with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Well then damned talk, Iceman. I’m listening.” Smoker exhaled. Every mission had to start somewhere. Every odyssey had to begin with a first sailing.

——————————— 

Doflamingo needed to get up. He couldn’t reschedule this morning’s meetings, no matter how badly he now wanted to. But the temptation to abandon all responsibility was only growing as his gaze lingered over your unresponsive form.

You were finally in his castle. Finally in his goddamn bed as he wanted nothing more than to put his body back over yours and order someone else to make all those phone calls for him today. 

Money was always coming and going in obscene amounts for him. But you were vulnerable right here, right now as he dug his fingernails back into your hips.

You wouldn’t be bothered by this. No matter how hard he pressed. Because he knew a blackout when he saw one. 

And this result hadn’t even been his full intention. You just hadn’t eaten enough last night after all the arguing had started. And those so called painkillers he’d ordered the doctor to give you were all the stronger on a near empty stomach. Their effects blurring well into the next day for you now.

He knew all about that too. These were actually one of his top selling drugs. Pills he’d purposefully fucked himself up on more than once after a bad day.

Because he couldn’t have nightmares when he barely knew his own name on those nights, could he? 

And you couldn’t feel anything now either as he glanced over his shoulder to that ornate clock in the corner of his bed chambers.

He really did have to go soon. But he’d already showered last night. There was still a little more time to indulge in this if he hurried. To indulge in you, before he did lean back down to close his mouth over one of your breasts.

He sucked that nipple so carefully though, wanting it to gradually harden for him.

Harden like he already was of course. His cock awake even before his brain had been. Morning wood between his legs, and messy blond hair against his scalp as the pillows had forced even those short little spikes in different directions now. 

He’d still have liked your fingers to be smoothing it back down against his head, either that or pulling it roughly as he started to suck your breast harder. His hips already beginning to move while his cock slid across your warm skin.

He was going to summon one of the island’s officials over to the palace by tomorrow at latest. You’d be forced to sign papers that would tie you to him for as long as you both drew breath. Documents to be sealed in the World Government’s records until the time would come to take this fully public.

Because there were strict legalities to be met whenever empires and bloodlines came under scrutiny. He knew the proper timeline must be adhered to. 

You had to be a wife before you could be a mother. All just semantics really. But these games were as old as the world itself. And he would not be outplayed in them.

His anticipation for these results was only worsening each additional day though. Burning in tandem to all of his lust as the words of last night still weighed so heavily in his mind.

He’d thought such emotions would never matter to him. He’d believed he’d just take and take regardless of your own thoughts or feelings.

But it had felt good. So very good as you’d looked him in the eyes and said you were falling for him. 

That these webs of his were working. That his efforts were not in vain.

Doflamingo’s hips were moving harder then, just useless practice in this moment. But feeling so right all the same. Precum was already smearing his tip as it rubbed across you.

He was pressing against your unsuspecting body that he knew his blood would soon be taking full root within. Because Caesar had never failed him yet. 

Whenever that concoction did arrive, Doflamingo would be putting it to immediate use.

And he did raise his head again in this daydreaming, watching your still closed eyes and your slightly parted lips. Your breathing so soft and steady beneath him.

Your life existing for him.

You looked so calm, so peaceful in this state. As if this drugged sleep really were a kindness he had bestowed on you.

But you would be cursing him soon. 

Whenever your clothes no longer fit the same. When you tired more easily, and hungered for strange things. When your feet hurt and your breasts grew swollen and tender.

Whether you begged or even cried for it to stop, he knew those changes would come. Because nature would not be overridden. You would be forming an entire new life inside yourself, and be made to endure every consequence that came along with it.

And how badly he longed to see that progression. How badly he longed to cause it.

Doflamingo groaned, feeling that tension already starting in his own abdomen as his hips pumped harder, beginning to fully dry hump you now.

Why did this particular idea fucking turn him on so badly? Thinking of you full of his seed, and made that much weaker for it, that much more dependent on him as that child grew.

But he’d always wanted to ruin you deep down. Because he’d wanted it all from day one, hadn’t he? He’d told his brother, he’d told Trebol, Diamante, Pica, and Vergo. All of them at one time or another.

I think I just met my first wife, boys.

He remembered joking.

How’d you like to be an uncle, Rosi?

He’d said that too with such incredible lust once, fully disgusting to Corazon when Doflamingo had already been drunk the night Trebol and Diamante had brought him your coat.

He remembered holding that bloodied fabric in one hand, and his brother’s spine in the other. Whispering that taunt in the younger Donquixote’s ear before shoving him away.

Corazon the snitch. Corazon the traitor. He’d probably run off to sit outside that very same night. Just as Doflamingo had retired to his room to pleasure himself against the torment of your scent still on that dirtied garment. 

Doflamingo had been fucking his own hand, wishing it was you while that chainsmoking coward had surely been sitting out in the dark with the other rats in the scrap piles. Probably with a hidden snail in all those black feathers, immediately calling daddy Sengoku to tattle about his older brother’s new urges.

But the old man still hadn’t done a damn thing to save you in the end. The marines hadn’t kept you away from him long enough. They didn’t understand how many years he could hold on to something like this.

Corazon had failed to make them understand. Corazon had failed you. 

And so Doflamingo laughed. Dark and deep as his hands moved back over your thighs to finally spread them.

He’d have what he wanted. Every morning, every evening, every day, week, month and year to come.

Because little Rosinante had failed to save his fellow marine. He’d failed his future sister-in-law with his selfishness and cowardice. And now…he’d even failed his future niece or nephew that he would never get the chance to know.

All by his own choices to turn against his only brother who had loved him. 

He had loved Corazon.

But only death could bring forgiveness.

Doflamingo smiled wide, just before he brought his hand back up, nearly against his mouth as he then spit into his own palm.

You may not feel this affection now, but he knew you would later today as he slicked his shaft, stroking his palm and that fresh saliva across the length of it.

He’d move you back to your own bed, carrying you through the passageway after he was done here. Baby 5 could check on you shortly after and encourage you to eat breakfast.

Food would sober you up. And if not, he knew where the antidote was.

He could have already given it to you as soon as he’d awoken, true. But where would have been the fun in that? This imagery was already so desirable, intoxicating even.

The queen of Dressrosa beneath him, fucked up on pills and currently dead to the world. And the king of Dressrosa fucked up on her, whoring himself like an animal just for another feel of his beloved’s flesh.

And he was grinning wildly now as he pressed himself through your waiting entrance and began to thrust inside. Harder and harder as he let out a moan, reveling in all of it as he got his morning fix between your thighs. He had no shame in his own choices at all. 

Because he was already an addict, your user and your abuser. Your best customer and soon to be husband and father to your child, unable to ever say no to this product that was you.

————————— 

“Hey! Hey wake up! Come on…rise and shine! Hello? Wake up!”

And something was shaking your shoulder.

A female voice was trying to draw you out over and over.

But you didn’t want to go to it. It still sounded far away and you were confused. The pain would be there if you woke up again. You knew at least that much and you weren’t ready.

Then something slapped your cheek.

Hard.

“Wake…up!”

And then again, to the other side of your face.

And again, back to the other side.

Your eyes finally fluttered. But those light stings of being struck were nothing in everything else that had already happened to you. In everything that was still going to happen. 

You ignored it.

You were staring at a foreign ceiling through half lidded eyes then instead. A blanket pulled tightly around you as everything suddenly got brighter. 

Rings were scraping along rods high above. Thick, velvety curtains were being pulled open to unleash the Dressrosan sun upon you.

Baby 5 was leaned over you as well, staring down intently as she stood beside your bed.

And when your eyes eventually met hers, she smiled so genuinely in relief. As if she hadn’t also been the one to just strike you multiple times. 

“Finally! You are alive! I’m so glad! The young master told me I’d probably have to do that! He gave me permission to! I was going to try water next, but that would have been a mess!”

“What…” Of course you had no clue what she was saying at first, just clutching that blanket around your body as a little more sense began to return to you slowly.

“He said you wouldn’t be feeling well, but that you must wake up and eat something if you were still in bed!” She still carried on with her words somewhat excitedly.

And you did somehow force yourself up to sitting at the mention of Doflamingo though. But still regretting it as you immediately felt dizzy.

Baby 5 wasn’t even the only one in the room either as you kept that blanket pulled up to your collar bones while you eventually realized the small crowd milling about.

It was maids. Some opening the curtains still, others setting up a new tray in your reach. Bringing more water, and more fresh food. But you were looking just further disoriented as you realized this was not the same room as the one you’d fallen asleep in.

This was “your” room again and “your” bed.

But the last thing you’d remembered was being curled up against Doflamingo in the darkness of his.

Had he moved you and left you when he awoke?

“Where…is he?” You managed, still watching everyone else so cautiously.

“The young master is on an important business call. Well, several of them. He said I was to report back to him on your condition.” Baby 5 answered dutifully, almost proud in this assignment. 

But for how happy she seemed to be, by contrast the other women were just skirting around her and refusing to even make eye contact with you. All like frightened, timid little animals before they hurried immediately back out of the room after completing their tasks. 

“So eat! Because that’s what he wanted!” Baby 5 insisted then, crossing her arms as she watched you. That suddenly stern look a bit ridiculous on a teenager’s face. 

But you felt like shit. Even if most of your body was still numb. And the last thing you wanted was to be forcing something down that would only be coming back up in a few minutes.

You always lost your appetite whenever you were really stressed though. Tsuru had had to get onto you about it more than once. Not that you ever remembered this many consecutive days of anxiety on her ship, even in wartime.

“If I eat, I’ll puke.” You said simply, head then lowering into your hand as you looked back to the mattress. This wasn’t a typical hangover either. And you knew you hadn’t even been drinking.

Doflamingo had only had them bring water last night, and that too must have been intentional. Because you’d probably be dead if you’d mixed in alcohol on top of this.

What the hell was really in those pills?

You just wanted to go back to sleep. You wanted to close your eyes and not open them again for ages.

“Hey, Baby 5!” Another voice butted in from the doorway though to have you glancing back up. A much younger voice sounding so very annoyed. “Where can I dump these stupid things?”

And Baby 5’s expression flipped instantly from stern to amazed as she gasped dramatically. “What are those!?” Her hands were on her cheeks. 

But all you saw was a moving bush of purple flowers. The pot they were planted in being carried with skinny legs and bright pink shoes beneath it.

“Giolla told me to put them in here. Some guy delivered them.” The boy huffed. “But I’m about to chunk them out of the window. I have better things to do. I’m not anybody’s room service!”

“They’re gorgeous, Dellinger! Don’t you dare throw them!” Baby 5 barked back at him just as quickly as if this was only her kid brother she was now admonishing.

“Then you take it! It’s making me itch!”

And she did, easily lifting the large flower pot away from the boy as he sneezed.

Even with the plant and its flowers moved away from him, he was then wiping his eyes in irritation. You realized the half fishman was definitely a little taller now than he used to be. No longer a toddler at least before he shot you a hateful look when he realized you were staring at him.

“What, you’ve never seen a fishman before!?” He copped an attitude to your perceived rudeness immediately. His teeth looking sharp now in an odd contrast to his still relatively short height. He couldn’t be more than eight or so now. And with far more mouth on him than restraint.

“Just thinking you’re at least a little bigger than the cannonballs you used to shoot at us.” You mumbled. You also wondered if it was still Giolla who picked out his clothes. The clashing colors were so bright and hard on your eyes. 

“Well we don’t need you here, just so you know!” He snapped back at you regardless before sticking out his tongue.

So mature.

And Baby 5 did roll her eyes, apparently briefly thinking the same. But she was still more worried about the flowers than anything else in this room now as she hurriedly sat them on a sideboard cabinet against the wall. You saw her rather excitedly pull a note from between the leaves when she realized it was there too.

But then there was her immediate disappointment once she’d actually read it. She left the note near the pot. “Boo…it’s just a thank you note from Alabasta!”

“Who’d you think they were from, dummy?” Dellinger fussed, already ignoring you again as he put a hand on one of his hips to look back at her.

“Well, the young master of course! That would have been so sweet!” She looked practically pouty.

“Ew, you’re pathetic! He would never. He’s way cooler than that!” The young boy retorted, now heading back for the door, sassily in his little pink flats actually.

“Romance is cool!” She stomped her foot.

“It isn’t! Go read more of your stupid magazines and keep dreaming, you ditz!”

“Why are you boys all so mean!?”

“Just to you!” And he stuck his tongue out from  between his sharp teeth again before darting into the hall, giggling all the way as a candelabra suddenly smashed in half against the doorframe.

You hadn’t even seen her grab it. And that was no small distance.

“Pretty good throw.” You said quietly into the new silence. Your shoulders still sunken though as you couldn’t find the energy to fully straighten up.

“A good throw would have hit him.” She answered, though still looking annoyed as she picked up the pieces. “I have to go now. Pica wanted me in town to help Gladius. But if you really won’t eat, I have to tell the young master that before I leave.”

“Tell him,” You huffed. “He’s the one that poisoned me like this anyway.”

Yes, the next time he tried to pressure you into taking anything, you were going to tell him where he could shove it.

But she only responded so cheerfully to that. “Oh, if the young master had wished to poison you, you’d already be dead!” Baby 5 smiled so sincerely with these words, while you just stared at her. Followed with a bubbly, “See you later!” 

And with a click of the distant bedroom door you were then alone again.

For a while you just stayed there too, fully ignoring the food tray as you’d told her you would. But also realizing how filthy you felt. Like you’d been sweating in these heavy blankets.

You knew what sometimes worked for you for more normal hangovers. A cold ass shower, even if it just meant sitting on the floor of said shower while the water rained over you.

You did want that now actually as you finally shoved the bedding away to find yourself still without a piece of clothing on. You swung your legs over the mattress edge regardless though and pressed your toes into that plush carpet to finally stand.

A feat by itself that was instantly precarious as your arms left your sides to steady your balance.

Simply walking to the bathroom shouldn’t have felt like tip toeing across a ship’s mooring ropes as you began to walk.

But it did, as you concentrated on just moving one foot after the other. And you were making decent progress across that large bedroom before a new, entirely disgusting sensation hit.

An almost glob like secretion of excess foreign material had slid out from between your legs. Your channel cleansing itself as gravity carried that fluid the rest of the way, wet and warm down your inner thigh. 

And maybe you were already just too worn, too starved, and too dehydrated as you stared down at that tell tale trail.

Semen.

And it was fresh.

Never in your life, not in all the late night binges or in any of the marine bar crawls, had you ever been wasted enough to not remember being fucked by someone.

And it didn’t matter in that moment what the truth really was. It was the fact that you couldn’t possibly know. It was the fact that the pills had stolen your ability to know.

Of course Doflamingo would do that to you if given the chance. Of course he probably had.

But how many others had had access to you in all the time you were unconscious? Anyone could have opened that door, anyone could have climbed over the top of you and…

Your stomach had turned and your knees were then on that beautiful stone tile as you’d reached the bathroom. Falling to them hard enough to leave more bruises before you were leaned over the open toilet, then puking directly into it.

Every bit of anything that’d been left inside of you came out. Until it was nothing but coughing and spit. Your diaphragm then still heaving against your will.

That burning of stomach acid went up into your throat and nose, bringing reflexive tears to your eyes.

You were so much stronger than this.

You knew that. But it didn’t seem to matter here.

Every time you thought things were getting better, they always got so immediately worse just to show you.

Doflamingo had told you only last night that he loved you. 

And Tsuru had warned you that he would never mean it. But did she know it was still the very first time any man had ever said it to you? Did she know how you’d waited your entire life just to hear it?

You were crying again. What you wanted and what you were actually receiving still two entirely different things.

But if you were ever given enough time to fully regather yourself, if the hits would ever stop coming one after another, surely you wouldn’t have been this pathetic. You wouldn’t have been this sensitive.

But even in all of that mental noise, even through your own humiliating tears, you still heard the ringing of your marine snail.

And it took you so long to get back out of the bathroom, first crawling, then somehow walking again. Like a thing only half alive as you’d tried to steady your breathing. You were still numb from the medicine and weak from the continued lack of food. Even in all of that, this person patiently waited for you.

The rings continued over and over until your hand was finally on the receiver.

“…Hell…hello?” You tried to speak.

————————— 

There was no guarantee who at all may answer this number now. And as such, he had been steeled for the worst. The worst of course potentially being the disgusting bird himself.

But when that uneven sounding female voice responded instead, Sir Crocodile actually paused. Because this did not sound like the headstrong marine officer he’d meticulously researched in just these last few days since your face had first met the newspapers. No, not at all.

“Good morning.” He greeted anyway. Knowing about which time it should be in Dressrosa currently. “And who do I now have the pleasure of speaking with?” The warlord questioned, calm but firm.

“Captain (Y/N).” And there was at least an attempt to sound stronger then. You were trying to hide yourself behind that mask of your rank and station. “Who is this?” You asked.

But he could hear the involuntary waver which was still there. That slight thickness like there was congestion that couldn’t be so quickly cleared. At least not in enough time for you to answer the phone.

This was a woman who’d just been caught in the act of crying.

Sir Crocodile’s fingers tapped reflexively on his desk all the way in Alabasta, a frown deepening across his face.

Doflamingo never wasted a moment did he? 

Everything that man ever touched ended up shattering as weak as glass before all was said and done. Even diamond wouldn’t have stood a chance from being eventually worn down.

“Well, Ms. Marine…it’s interesting to finally put a voice to those pictures, and to the stories. You’ve got quite a list of achievements already in such a young career. I did have a look at your government record of course.”

A brat from the North Blue, the same sea as Doflamingo. First recruited by none other than that old crone who the freak still fancied so entirely. That decades long relationship between Doflamingo and Vice Admiral Tsuru being one which Crocodile didn’t want or need a full history on. 

Because it’d always been obvious. Doflamingo either wanted someone to mother him or someone to fuck him, sometimes interchangeably. The monster didn’t seem to know the difference anymore.

So of course you were from Tsuru’s stable. And never mind the additional baggage of that making you and the bird something more akin to siblings.

Since even if Doflamingo’s relationship with your superior was viewed in the least sexual framing possible, if Doflamingo really saw Tsuru as only a mother figure, that would still make you essentially his younger sister when that woman had raised you as well.

An incestuous fucker is what he really was. Because either way you were somewhat of a proxy for that old woman in Crocodile’s mind. But there was no limit for Doflamingo. And the demon probably got off on every single layer of that debauchery as well.

These ideas only turned Crocodile’s stomach even further. Just like everything about that man always had.

Yet he exhaled, cigar smoke flowing as he knew there was also a time limit here. He had no doubt that they’d be listening in to your calls and would be intervening shortly.

“Well, you aren’t very talkative are you?” He spoke again in absence of anything quick from you. “But there’s no point in dancing around for the sake of further formalities though. It sounds as if you’re having a fully miserable time already. And I do pity you. Truly. But first of all, did you receive the flowers I sent?” 

And there was a hesitation on that other end then. As if you didn’t know whether to demand his identity right away or to let him continue on in the hopes of him soon revealing his true intent. “The purple flowers?” You asked.

“Yes.” He answered smoothly. So at least the courier had gotten all the way to the castle. Doflamingo must be busy. The bird would have known those flowers on sight to intercept them.

They were Crocodile’s favorite.

“Adenium obesum is their real name. Yet more colloquially known as desert rose here in Alabasta. Though those in particular are a purple variant cultivated only by human hands. Far more potent and quite rare.”

Obviously you didn’t care about the flowers. And perhaps a little bit of backbone was trying to reform now. “Uh huh…yeah. Who are-“

But he cut you off easily. “They’re highly poisonous as well. Not the exterior of course. The poison is in the sap. Coat a weapon with it, and you’ll find it quite useful. The chemical in it disrupts the rhythm of the target’s heart. Even in the smallest quantities.”

A preferred coating for his hook actually.

The resulting silence hung for a moment before he set his cigar down, still holding it carefully between his fingers. He was genuinely curious in your next move.

And this entire time he knew you had been listening to that hint of superiority in his voice, that edge that came from a lifetime of illicit takeovers and equal violence. You already knew he was no ambassador, no gutless politician simply calling on behalf of the Nefertari family.

That sailor’s tongue came out so suddenly though. Even if he could hear the pain still behind it. “I don’t have time for more fucking games, whoever you are. If you want to threaten me, then do it. Otherwise, fuck off. This is a marine line you’re blocking.”

And it was surprisingly amusing to him. He wondered what you really looked like as you finally bore a little of those fangs at him. The snails could only convey so much by way of expression. “My…is this the real you then? Aren’t you charming? I can only imagine the high brow conversations the two of you must have.”

He knew Doflamingo loved a good tongue lashing, in the right circumstances at least. That night from Scylla had been different though. Crocodile could practically hear that demon’s blood boiling over when they’d argued over the phone.

And was it really because of you? Did that delusional creature think you were something finally worth protecting?

When all Doflamingo was going to do was destroy you anyway. The futility in so much effort was laughable.

But again, it was back to business as Crocodile actually smirked, catching you with his words before you could hang up on him. 

“I don’t mean to be insulting, my dear. It’s just disheartening how much you misunderstand. Of course the poison isn’t a threat. It’s my gift to you. Use it now before they can break down the door. An honorable death at your own discretion. Before that monster can do it for you. Don’t give him the privilege.”

And whether by full intent or not, Crocodile’s voice did begin to change. He was letting you know that he knew. He knew exactly what this was and what you were enduring, because he had seen it all before you.

“It will get worse. He always gets worse. If it was only blood and bruises, I have no doubt that you’d last a good while. You’re combat trained. But it’s the mind, Ms. Marine. When that breaks, there’s no mend for that. No bandage or splint. You’ll wish for an exit as quick as this then. As painless as this. Simply break a branch and drink the sap. Or rub it into any wound I’m sure he’s already given you. No more, no less. Then you’ve won and he’s lost. You’ll suffer his particular brand of hell no longer.”

———————————

Baby 5 had let him know you were back to being a stubborn bitch and refusing to eat any breakfast. Though she hadn’t called you that. She was still naive enough to be hoping for a new friend really.

A potential relationship he’d expected and encouraged from the very first night of course. Because if you pitied her, she’d be another tool in his arsenal against you.

Currently though he was just irritated with you. You were going to be fully sick if you didn’t eat. What was left of those pills in your bloodstream should be hitting you with nausea, vertigo, and further weakness about now. 

You’d be dehydrated and light headed. He’d be pulling you off of the floor when he reentered your room most likely.

Though maybe this was a lesson you needed to learn. If he said to get up, if he said to eat, whatever he said for you to do, you were meant to do it.

He would go check on you after this call and deal out any correction in attitude as needed.

For the moment Doflamingo had been haggling with a newer client. Another king desperate for an additional arms shipment which would turn the tide in their island’s civil war. 

And the warlord knew when a customer was about to fold.

“I mean really, what’s the price of peace, your highness?” He’d been smirking so coldly. It was like music sometimes, hearing their resolve wither bit by bit on the other end of that snail. “Pay what I’m asking in full and I’ll cut two more days off the delivery time. Think what this war is costing you already. Every day, every hour as you lose more soldiers and more tax paying citizens. What happens when you don’t even have enough of them left to collect those heavenly tributes to Mariejois any longer?”

“Your current rate is still more than we can absorb. If the total principal could be lowered just a bit more, Joker, I believe we could find a way to make this lump payment.”

“But my ships can deliver more product to you as soon as early next week. In just that many days the tide could be turning permanently for you. Don’t you think that level of service is worth something?”

Almost. They were almost there. So Doflamingo wasn’t going to budge now. He knew when to keep the pressure on.

But with this final deal so tantalizingly close, that was the very same moment in which his office door had swung open. Surprising him as Pica’s broad frame came hurriedly through it. Though turning sideways to fit as he did.

Something was wrong.

He wouldn’t be interrupting if not. Pica was supposed to have gone into the city today with some of the others. 

But Doflamingo still didn’t want to put this call on hold. It’d taken weeks to get this customer’s back so fully to the wall. Including the effort of providing nearly free weapons to the war’s rebel leaders all the while. 

The rebels already would have been crushed if not. So Doflamingo had secretly backed them first, just long enough to create the opposing demand and get to the much deeper pockets of their king they were still trying to overthrow.

And those machinations were all about to bear fruit here.

Reluctantly, Doflamingo raised a hand at Pica. An instruction to remain silent even as the warlord’s own mind began filling with all matter of hypothetical problems his executive may be here to tell him.

He kept haggling with this other king all the while. But Doflamingo could see the urgency building in Pica’s eyes.

Yes, something was very wrong.

And his smirk was disappearing as he now felt forced to push for this sale’s closing faster than he knew he should.

“In all this back and forth, you’re just beginning to repeat yourself. I need that final agreement.” Doflamingo tried, unable to look away from Pica now. “Either I have our ships start loading tonight to head for your port or we cancel this shipment entirely. Nothing will be ready in time otherwise. Do we have a deal?”

“I…I believe I’ll need to consult the treasury again and get back to you in a few days if your price indeed remains firm. This amount would leave us too barren for all other needs.” 

Fuck. And that was the exact kind of delay that Doflamingo didn’t want. With Pica standing there trying to mouth something to him silently as well, distracting him simultaneously.

“I’ll take off five percent. That’s it. Consider it a one time discount.” Doflamingo was trying not to sound as irritated as he felt. Too harsh a hand would just scare this coward away.

“Eight percent.” That king still countered.

And godamn, how annoying. But even then, the account was still too good to walk away from. Doflamingo’s hand pulled into a fist anyway as the blood vessel in his forehead became visible.

He still could not understand what Pica was trying to say either.

“Fine. An eight percent discount if you pay immediately. Next shipment leaves tomorrow morning if the wire payment comes tonight.”

“Done. You’ll have your money before midnight, Joker.” And now the other sounded so confident all of the sudden, as if he’d actually bested the Heavenly Demon.

And that bit of new smugness made Doflamingo want nothing more than to put a burst of bullet string right between that king’s eyes.

“I better. And I have other calls to make.” Was all he said instead of putting the vermin back in his place. There wasn’t time.

“Yes, Joker. Thank-“

And Doflamingo hung up the snail hard, slamming the receiver before they could even finish that false cordiality. 

“Goddamnit what, Pica!?” He barked in the outburst he’d been containing all the while, already standing. Whatever this was had just cost him significantly. Even small percentages were heavy hits when talking about contracts worth more than the yearly GDP of some smaller islands.

And Pica did look properly flustered. But that high pitched voice did not falter.

“Doffy! Trebol and the marine got into a fight! Trebol’s hurt! She locked herself in her bathroom and says she’ll only speak to you. With the rule of blood…we didn’t want to press further…we-”

“They did what?” Doflamingo hissed, not staying to hear anything else when he’d already darted around Pica and back through his office door as instinct took hold. 

His strings could pull him down the corridors far faster than anyone could have ever run. A terrible sneer contorting his face as he went right over the heads of any soul unfortunate to be in his way on his journey through the palace.

He was nearly sliding into your room moments after. The door had already been open as he’d landed, black shoes meeting the carpet while he’d had to use his strings to stop again.

“Doffy!” Diamante said in relief. 

And Doflamingo could immediately see the hints of disaster. Parts of furniture were broken, small items strewn in every direction. Mucus was all over, and a fresh trail of blood was leading to a crouched Trebol on the ground.

Trebol’s voice sounded worse than even usual as his head immediately lifted at the sound of his master’s name.

“Do..Doffy!” He almost gurgled.

And Doflamingo stared. Blood was stained down Trebol’s face, down his chest too as his executive’s eyes were wide at him. The black glasses were missing. 

“Sh..she broke m…my no..nose…”

His fucking nose. Yes, it was crooked. That was where all the blood had come from. Blood and mucus as Doflamingo felt his fists clenching to the point of being painful now.

His own blood pressure was continuing to climb, his heart pounding. So angry that it was now making his skull feel like it was splitting.

Just the purest form of rage consuming him as he would ask them only one word for now.

“Why?” Doflamingo growled, jaw muscles tightening as his fingers began to rise.

He did see that bathroom door closed. The one you were supposedly hiding behind as he began to attach his strings to it.

He was going to rip it from its goddamn frame.

“She must be colluding with Crocodile!” Diamante spat. “Trebol heard them on the phone and entered first to stop whatever it was they were plotting against you! He tried only to restrain her to wait for you, and this is what she did to him!”

Crocodile!? That name exploded through his mind.

Doflamingo’s own eyes widened behind his sunglasses, like he’d been kicked straight in the chest himself. Even as he felt as if his anger was absolutely going to choke him by this point.

As if he couldn’t breathe any longer while his strings tightened further against that bathroom door.

“Bring…me. The. Recording.”

That was the last full words he could manage to them before he yanked his arm back.

The bathroom door exploded outward, wooden pieces pulled and sliced, raining down like paper and pulp as Doflamingo strode forward into that new opening.

His lips were pulled fully back, his hand up like a claw, ready to destroy anything you could possibly throw at him.

You fucking bitch.

He’d brought you here. He’d trusted you.

And you were Crocodile’s!? Was it all a setup!? 

The shower was running. He could see the trail of mucus leading to that opaque sliding glass door. 

Your body had carried it in here. And his fist pulled back, armament coating then covering all the way past his forearm before he shattered that thick glass in one hit.

It broke over you, shards sparkling into your hair, falling down your naked body as he saw your shoulders tense even further.

You were huddled in the farthest corner of the shower, on the ground with your back to him. You were trembling again.

Like he’d seen too many times now.

Too many times to care any longer.

And Doflamingo had stepped into that continuous spray of water, fully clothed as his fingers tightened into your hair, glass and all as he yanked you away from the wall.

He lifted you by that hair momentarily, just before he threw you back down. Hard enough against the pedestal sink on the other side of the bathroom that he heard the gasp as the air was knocked from your lungs.

He saw one of your hands go to your ribs. You were on the floor looking up at him. There was still that residue of mucus on your thighs. And on your breasts despite the water. You were unable to speak when you couldn’t catch your breath.

And as his foot came down to pin you there on your back against the tile, only then was he finally able to see the purple something clutched in your other hand.

You’d had it the entire time. And you now protected it in your grip as if it were some kind of talisman.

Your last hope against him.

And he knew exactly what it was. Something he’d seen multiple times before. The scent of those flowers the reptile so adored still burned into his memories. Purple flowers on a dark mahogany desk, their vase rattling as Doflamingo had spread his legs wide back then and let a man fuck him raw. A man he’d wanted to own so badly. One with a terrible facial scar and slicked back black hair. 

The man that had decided they were no longer compatible. That they never had been. 

The man that hated him.

Doflamingo also now saw the open cuts on your same hand as you clutched Crocodile’s favorite flower. Your skin you’d split from beating Trebol’s face in when you likely didn’t even have the remaining energy for proper armament.

The end of the stem had already been rinsed clean in the shower. But if you crushed all the rest now within your hand, the remaining sap would gush out to enter your wounds. 

That was exactly what the look in your eyes told him now, that you knew this as you clutched that flower.

On your back on the bathroom floor where he’d pinned you, his parasite ability unable to find easy purchase on your spine that was now tight against that tile.

All you’d have to do was tighten your fist. It’d happen before he could do another thing. There was no antidote for this one.

“(Y/N).” And he said it as that new fear cut straight through his rage. His teeth still bared, but his palms now beginning to sweat. The tension in his body was faltering.

“Don’t.” His mouth tried.

Because he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He couldn’t even fathom it.

Not like this. Not this soon.

“Doffy…” His own name was so soft from your lips in return. As if you could feel that shift. The sudden hole in his defense and that pull within his chest again while he stared down at the mess of you. You and that matching pain within your own eyes.

“Let go of it.” He still ordered you. “You can’t do this…”

You can’t do it to me. Was what that fear really meant.

———————————

He’d come in here ready to punish you by any means necessary. For a moment you had felt that. His full rage at any hint of betrayal, his need to hurt you for your daring to ever harm his family.

But he was reacting only to what he saw. Not what really was or had been. You’d already told the mystery caller to fuck off. It didn’t matter who they later said it was.

You didn’t care.

You had already endured so much in your short life, survived too much to ever just kill yourself here and now simply because some stranger told you to. Someone that evidently hated Doflamingo and couldn’t give two shits about what really became of you.

They’d done this on purpose, hadn’t they? They’d known something like this would come of it.

But you’d still been on that call, trying to figure out any of that then when Trebol had first burst into the bedroom.

You really didn’t think Trebol had heard everything either. But you were arguing with the man on the phone as suddenly the Donquixote executive was calling you a traitorous whore and mucus was flying at your naked body.

So of course you’d lost your damn mind then. Because he’d touched you again. It’d been everywhere. And even as worn down as you’d felt, when that mucus was then squeezing around your chest and running in between your legs, you’d still found some kind of emergency supply of haki as you’d finally snapped.

You’d fought that bastard like a wild animal, your injured leg be damned. You’d felt his nose crack and you’d gotten a hold of at least one of those flowers from that stupid plant as you’d escaped.

You’d screeched at them that you would fucking kill yourself and they’d have to answer to Doflamingo for it. Diamante had come in and Pica too in all those dramatics before you’d locked yourself in the bathroom. You’d said you’d only speak to their master and they could royally go fuck themselves.

But you’d still known what Doflamingo would do, even as you’d crawled into the shower. Even as you’d still been trying to get Trebol’s residue off of your body when you could no longer stand.

And when the bathroom door had exploded outward only minutes later, you could hear how taut the strings were in the air. You could hear how hard Doflamingo was already breathing as the shower glass had shattered next and he’d yanked you out and upward by your hair.

He’d thrown you so violently, it’d still knocked the wind out of you. You couldn’t speak before you were on your back with a long black shoe crushing down onto your sternum.

But then he saw that flower.

And you got to witness his realization of what it meant even through all that rage. He’d hesitated. Even for just a single moment as you’d realized that was your only chance to survive this.

He’d commanded you to let the flower go.

And you had swallowed, knowing that you had already tried fighting him. In Mariejois, in Sabaody, and even within intimate moments when he became too rough.

Even if you had been at full strength in this moment again, that path of tit for tat would only reach the same end every time.

You would hit him, and he’d hit you back twice as hard. The two of you could brawl until the entire castle came down around you. It would accomplish nothing.

It would prove nothing.

That was why you knew you had to take a different path this time. You had to at least try.

“Doflamingo…” You said his name again. You knew he was still listening. Because he hadn’t moved.

He was afraid to move.

“Let me up…please…and I will. I’ll let it go.” You promised through the pain.

You could barely breath with his foot still on your chest. He was suffocating you slowly, and you knew what you had to do.

But it still seemed like forever. Forever with your life in the balance as his intent wavered back and forth.

And then something happened.

His foot was off of your chest. And air flooded your lungs as he crouched down to grab you by the arm instead.

Maybe it just wasn’t yet your time. Maybe the anger was too much for him to even think clearly. Whatever the reason, it was a godsend for you at last as he was now within your reach.

And you wouldn’t waste the chance.

Doflamingo’s focus had still been on your hand. His strings waiting to remove that flower the very moment he could. But his movement to crouch down was simultaneous to the moment you sat up and you made your lips hit his. Even before he could parasite string you as your spine had cleared the ground.

That effort had used the remainder of your speed. And that opening was only there because a kiss was the very last thing he’d expect to be given in a fight like this.

At least Trebol’s remnants weren’t on your face. You could only taste Doflamingo then as you put everything you had into this final play.

You knew you had to mean it. It couldn’t be just any kiss, it had to come from your goddamn soul.

That was all you could think of with your eyes closed. How you would kiss a man if you were actually in love. How you would show them what love felt like when given away by you like this.

You had to prove that you were not a traitor. That you never could be.

You heard the sound in his throat that had started as true surprise. Even as you opened your hand to let that flower fall unbroken from it.

You’d never kissed him like this before. You’d never kissed anyone like this before. You knew that you hadn’t. Because you’d never been this desperate, never this afraid or exposed. 

And his confusion was palpable. Both of you then sitting on the bathroom floor amongst the shattered glass as you did finally pull away again.

Just enough to lay your head against his open shirt instead as you felt him breathing unevenly through it.

———————————

And Doflamingo had sat there stunned, even as his strings did remove that desert rose as soon as you had released it. He’d pulled the flower away immediately and cocooned it safely in string. He’d have the whole plant burned and crushed to ashes when this was done.

But he didn’t know what to do with you now. He didn’t know what was the truth and what was the lie. 

His arm had gone around your back reflexively. His fingers over a spine he could still either break or hold closer to further protect you.

“Doffy…we have the recording ready.” Pica’s voice came from the bedroom.

And Doflamingo was grateful. He’d almost forgotten already that there was more evidence. He wouldn’t have to make a decision like this fully on feelings alone.

“Get up.” He told you, not able to look at you now though even as he removed his feather coat from his shoulders and offered it to you.

It’d drag the ground a ridiculous amount with your contrasting heights. But a filthy coat was the least of his problems now. 

He knew you wouldn’t come back out unless your body was covered. But had his men seen all of you already? He didn’t know the exact timeline things had occurred.

“Sit on the bed. We’re going to settle this here and now.” He growled, his grip back on your now feather covered wrist as he mostly dragged you from the bathroom. You with his coat fully wrapped around yourself before he released you onto the mattress.

You made a sound at the continued rough handling, but you said nothing else.

Your eyes were back on his executives. And theirs were on him as the snail Pica had brought into the bedroom now began to play.

Doflamingo moved back away from you and stood to listen. Intentionally equidistant from Trebol and yourself in that moment, waiting on that more objective testimony. 

The new torment that was suddenly your voice and Sir Crocodile’s, as that conversation filled the room from the very beginning.

From the moment you’d first answered and their equipment began recording from downstairs.

———————————

You had to hear it all over. And it came across so painfully clear on that recording that you had been crying when you’d first answered the snail. 

Doflamingo’s head turned towards you right away at that, but you refused to look at him.

You got to hear the stranger talking over you on the phone next. More condescending and patronizing than even you had realized when it’d been happening in real time.

And then came the part where he’d told you to kill yourself. As if he was suddenly your only real friend, as if only he could understand the intensity of your suffering. He’d told you to end your own life before Doflamingo could do it for you. He promised you that was the only way this would ever end.

But you would bet all the beri in this castle that just after that was where Trebol had started to listen in. Because when the stranger began becoming frustrated with you, when you weren’t accepting this supposedly merciful escape he was offering you, he’d told you to poison Doflamingo instead. If you thought you were really so tough. Poison an evil man and do the whole world the favor then. 

Be the marine hero you were supposed to be.

Surely that is all Trebol had heard to come at you in the fury he had.

He may have already been making his way to your room, missing your emotional reaction which burst out from even that insinuation of assassination.

They’d said he was actually Sir Crocodile now. But even if you’d known that, your words wouldn’t have changed. 

You’d raged at that cruel voice, you’d called him a gutless, spineless, piece of utter shit. 

Yes, you were a marine. And you’d goddamn act like one. You might cut an enemy off at the knees if you had to. You might even hate them if they truly deserved it. But you’d do it to their face.

Not a knife to their back, or a poison in their favorite drink.

You would never do that.

And you told him as much. It wasn’t what he expected either. His true colors had just started to show. His temper flaring at your audacity, and what he called your self-righteous hypocrisy…but then even on the call Trebol’s voice could suddenly be heard as he’d forced his way in to interrupt you both.

Screaming at you for plotting against his master, for intending to kill Doflamingo as he’d come after you.

And your voice was breaking as you’d yelled at him in return. It barely even sounded like you at all. You knew that must have been when he’d gotten a real hold on you.

“Don’t you fucking touch me! Not ever again!”

And there were the sounds of more things crashing throughout the room, Trebol’s grunts and gasps as he struggled with you.

And then nothing as the line went dead.

You looked at no one as the recording stopped. 

You were silent.

They all were.

All you’d goddamn done was answer your own fucking phone when it had rang. Every cruel thing the man had said to you you’d rebuffed. You didn’t even know him. And then Trebol had been all over you anyway.

Diamante and Pica had heard his resulting calls for help over their mini snails and joined in. Diamante had stayed with Trebol while Pica had run to go get Doflamingo.

All the while you’d been crawling into the shower with that flower in your hand. An exit you didn’t want to ever take as you tried to remove Trebol from your body.

But you still would have used that poison on yourself if you’d had to. If Doflamingo had been too consumed to do anything but beat you to death. You knew he’d believe the three of them over one of you.

It could have been the end.

It still might be. 

Depending whether or not he now believed what he’d just heard. Or if he’d think it all still some grand scheme. And you an actress just playing a role to ensnare him. The kind of nightmare pirates might put one another through.

But you weren’t a pirate.

And your head lifted slightly as you saw new movement.

Their master was now back in front of you. Fingers under your chin as he lifted it further. So that your wary eyes were then looking up into those crimson lenses.

And his jaw was still tense, his smile non existent.

“We’ve done you a brutal disservice.” Those strange words came so solemnly from his mouth.

And then he let you go again. His head turned to look at his executives. He was standing at his full height.

You’d never seen those three look this nervous before. Not at their own master.

But his stillness was terrifying. You realized that as he didn’t even seem to be breathing while he considered them.

“From now on, no one touches her. She’s my responsibility alone. She answers to me alone.”

And they all bowed their heads immediately, they were on their fucking knees in front of him at that tone.

“Yes, Doffy.”

It was complete and utter submission. The only thing they must have known could sate him then.

And he still waited. Making them stay on their knees like that. 

It was a punishment, a warning in its own very clear way before he did finally inhale again.

And you saw when they visibly relaxed too as he did. Doflamingo had made his point and his hand just rose to begin generating strings again from his fingertips.

The same trick from Scylla as you saw a duplicate of him now taking shape from the floor up.

“I’m taking her back to my room.” He announced to them, still sounding cold but not as completely tense as before. “I’ll make the rest of my calls today through the string man in my office. Go to him if you need me. And get someone to come clean up this fucking mess.”

And as the real Doflamingo stopped talking, the clone started. Voice identical and somehow emitting from it.

“Go get your nose fixed too, Trebol.” It said, frowning. 

You saw that look of real relief form on Trebol’s bloody face then. As if his master was being so kind to him now. 

And maybe he was by Doflamingo standards. He was washing his hands of this. They were all free to go. The clone only told Diamante to take that plant and destroy it as well.

“You’re coming with me.” The real man said back above you though as you glanced up. He was picking you up again, right off of the bed and back into his arms, pink feathers and all with his coat still around you like a robe.

All while his clone moved independently, hands in its fake pockets then, leaving the room via the main door back to the palace hallways with the executives.

But you were being carried to that same hidden passage again which connected your two rooms. By the time he spoke to you again, he didn’t sound emotionless anymore. He sounded tired.

The others were gone. They couldn’t hear him.

“I’m sorry.” He said it so abruptly, you almost didn’t register it. Followed with, “And don’t ever get fucking used to me saying that.”

You stared up at him in astonishment as he moved you through that dark passageway.

Back to his chambers, back to his full protection.

And you felt his hands tighten on you slightly, once the passage was sealed and you were both alone within the king’s suite again. 

The curtains were all drawn shut, leaving it cooler and darker in here because of that. It felt like his den.

Like a sanctuary.

You were still in Doflamingo’s arms as his face pressed down against your neck and he leaned his back against the wall. He breathed you in. Hesitating as if he didn’t want to let you go, like he was delaying it in any way he could.

But eventually he’d lifted his head again to look down at you. 

“Move my glasses out of the way,” he told you then. Both of his arms already occupied in holding you to him.

A request that was easier said than done when you had to fish your hand out of the feathers that were still wrapped around you like an oversized blanket.

But you did eventually manage it. Gently reaching up to touch those somewhat famous frames. And when he didn’t resist, you lifted them all the way up to set them on top of his  head.

He stared at you for a long moment after, his good eye sharply focused, searching within your own eyes really.

Looking for something before he spoke again.

“You’re lucky I know him well enough to tell when he was being genuine. That really was your first introduction to one another…and he misjudged you completely.”

“I don’t roll over easily.” You said flatly.

“I know.” Was all he answered at first though.

And he leaned in to steal your lips briefly then, covering them with his own. But it was different. It was soft.

It felt like that very intentional kiss you’d given him earlier, or at least his best imitation of it.

And when he was done, he still left his face close as well, warm against yours. His next words were quieter, only for the privacy of this moment. 

“In that year you were with Kuzan…I tried to go after Crocodile. I tried with everything I had. I know people still talk about it. But they have no idea. It was…like a fucking war. But I wanted it. I wanted it so badly.”

And it was that stranger smile of his that followed. The one that looked painful. The one that nearly looked wounded. “But he cut me off all at once one day. He told me I was worthless…and he’s insisted on trying to remind me of that ever since.”

And the actual regret in Doflamingo’s tone was surprisingly real, as was the anger that rose to cover it. 

“But their losses become our victories. Don’t they?” He sneered. 

And you felt his fingertips, starting to hurt you again even through the coat. His grip becoming that severe. 

“None of them understand what they’ve created in bringing you and I fully together now.” He murmured against your skin. His lips still drawn back enough for you to feel his teeth. “We’ll outlast whatever their envy tries to throw at us next. As long as you stay loyal to me…then you have my protection. You have my love until the very end, woman.”

And it was another ultimatum without question. To the end…an end he could either cause tomorrow or twenty years from now.

Because it was up to him. No one else. Everything was still about him.

“I understand.” You said without argument though. Because he wasn’t asking anyway. He was telling you how this was going to be. 

He was promising this to you.

You would still resist. You both knew it. You would test the boundaries again and again, flapping your own wings against this shrinking cage soon enough.

But he still liked that too didn’t he? Because a little bird who said nothing, did nothing, and would only lay listless at the bottom of its enclosure at all times wouldn’t be worth having.

So you could thrash and fight, even bite him occasionally if he handled you too roughly. 

But you could never truly leave. You could never sing your song for another. You had to be his.

Only his.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[alwayssassydreamer]

I Hate Myself For Loving You

Day 15 of Kikitober (sorry i wrote a wrong prompt down for day 15 so this doesn't quite fit but I'm still posting it hope it's ok)

A/N: someone (I forgot who - sorry) gave me this idea and it turned out kinda weird as i was trying to think of an interrogation tactic that would not involve physical and not too much emotional pain. But in the end Kid is just a big softie. As always not proofread

Plot: you're after a treasure but got caught by pirates who try to make you give up the location of it, things get even more complicated when Kid arrives and demands answers but not about the treasure

Warnings: mention of torture, maybe hurt?, reader is a captive, i seriously have no idea what to put here, MDNI

Characters: Kid x F!Reader

You thought it would be easy here, meeting this man who could help you with the map that was leading to a hidden treasure, talk to him, thank him for taking his time and then get the fuck out without anybody noticing that you were even there.

But you were not expecting this pirate crew.

Bound to a chair in a dimly lit room on an enemies ship. That's not quite how you pictured this to turn out.

"Tell me dear, someone told me that you might know where the treasure is, is that true?" a rather old man with a brown beard you guessed to be the captain, asked you.

"Treasure? What kind of treasure? Never heard of a treasure here. but If you find it I'd like to have a share of it." you said looking him dead in the eye.

He stroked his beard a crooked grin on his face before he moved closer grabbing your face squeezing your cheeks.

"You think I'm an idiot?" Well yeah, that's what you were thinking.

"Someone told me that you were asking questions about a specific map and I come to think that this map might be the one leading to the gold" he hissed squeezing even harder. Damn that was getting really uncomfortable.

"Come on sweetheart tell us about the map" a tall and bulky man shouted.

"Why should I tell a pathetic pirate crew like yours anything" you snapped trying to get his hand off your face.

The crew erupted in laughter, confusing you.

"Well I guess we'll have to show you what this pathetic pirate crew is capable of. Maybe then you will talk to us" he threatened a mischievous grin on his face.

You had to admit you were a little scared now. Pissing them off was a rather stupid idea after all.

"Get me my interrogation box" the captain ordered and you swallowed hard.

Having something that's called an interrogation box did not sound good - not at all.

The captain took a chair and sat down in front of you placing the box on his lap. In it a lot of different knives, some sharp some seemed kinda blunt, varying in size and something that looked like a hammer.

The little scared feeling turned now into a big scared feeling not going unnoticed by the captain.

"What's wrong dear, fear sinking in. Not so tough anymore aren't you" he taunted as his fingers gliding over his tools.

"That should do for the warm up" he said picking a smaller knife with a clean and sharp looking blade.

Wavering it in front of you he moved closer to your arm. Just as he was about to cut you with it a man of his crew rushed towards him whispering in his ear.

The captain looked well different. Whatever the man told him it made the him get up. His face a mix of fear and frustration.

"I'll be right back. In the meantime how about you entertain our little prisoner" he said in a threatening way.

His men nodded and smiled a devilish smile at you.

Ok maybe the captain wasn't that bad after all. The fact that you were being held in this room tied to a chair surrounded by men who already undressed you with their eyes made your stomach twist.

The first one approached you moving a finger from your arm up to your neck.

"Fuck off" you yelled trying to wiggle away.

"There's no going anywhere darling, you're stuck with us, the pathetic pirate crew." a man with a scar running down his chest taunted.

"If you touch me I'm going to cut your fucking hands off" you said desperately but this only made the men laugh at you.

"Such a feisty one. I think we're gonna have a lot of fun with you" the tall man with the beard growled as his thumb brushed over your lips.

You had to think - fast if you wanted to get out of here in one piece.

"Let's see what you're hiding underneath" a third man with sleek dark hair laughed as he grabbed your shirt ripping it open leaving you in your bra as the shirt hung loosely over your shoulders.

"What a nice view" he mocked liking his lips as the other two took a step back to let the sight sink in. His hands were moving closer trying to touch your skin when the door to the room suddenly swung open.

"What's going on here" a deep voice shouted behind you.

The men were startled, fear across their faces.

"I'm sorry sir we were just havin some fun" the dark haired man apologized with a shaky voice.

You heard heavy footsteps moving closer.

"Look who we have here" the strangly familiar sounding voice said as the footsteps stopped in front of you.

"Oh fucking hell, no" you said as you looked right into Kid's eyes.

"Oh yes." he mocked with a smugly grin. He looked you up and down smiling at your demise.

"I've been told that you were messing with my subordinate crew about some treasure and I've gotta admit I love the sight of you bound to a chair unable to get away" he continued making fun of you as his huge frame hovered above you.

"Fuck off, asshole"

Kid's eyes wandered to the interrogation box.

"What's with that. Were you about to torture her" he asked pointing at the box.

"She wouldn't tell where we can find it, so we decided to help her talk" the captain said as his crew chuckled.

"You think you could get her to talk with that. She's tougher than that and too stubborn to give in believe me" Kid stated looking at you.

"But sir I'm-"

"Shut the fuck up." Kid yelled as he leaned forward his face close to yours.

"Funny how things worked out, huh? Here we are again. You, me, and some unfinished business" he almost whispered. You tensed not knowing where this was going.

"Get the fuck out of here" he suddenly shouted not removing his eyes from you.

You heard some shifting around you and then the pirates leaving while you were unable to avoid Kid's gaze.

"What's with this treasure" he asked his voice low and dangerous.

"I have no idea why everyone believes I know something about it" you said trying to be convincing.

Kid placed his flesh hand on your thigh and his metal hand on the chairs armrest as he leaned even closer trapping you beneath him and whispering in your ear. "I know you're lying. I know you better than anyone else" His lips brush against your ear his hot breath tickling you.

He moved a little to look you in the eyes before flashing a small smile.

The moment the pirates left was the moment the tension shifted. You weren't scared of getting physically hurt you knew Kid would never do that to you. Though you were still a little anxious. Kid had other ways to get what he wanted.

"What now" you asked nervously.

"Now I'm going to continue the interrogation my way, unless you want to talk to me" he growled evilly.

"Wait what-" Panic was rising inside you.

"Yeah I will have you answer every question I ask" he taunted as he dragged a finger from your collarbone between your boobs and down to your belly button, sending shivers down your spine, knowing exactly what he's doing.

He kept staring at his finger which still rested on your skin before he lifted his head.

"Now let the fun begin. The first question is easy. What's with this whole treasure thing?"

You sighed as he leaned back on the chair arms crossed.

"I might have found a map to a hidden treasure and a man on this island helped me reading it as I tried to leave your friends caught me" you explained.

"Where is the map"

"Like hell I tell you that's my treasure" you complained.

"That's not the correct answer" he smirked as he got off the chair to crouch down right before you. He grabbed one of your legs lifted it up and attacked your inner thigh with his mouth.

You gasped out of surprise cursing the shorts you wore. A small moan escaping your lips as you could feel him smile into your skin.

"Fuck stop that" you whined. He stopped but didn't let go of your leg.

"Then answer my question" he demanded

"It's in my boot. The one on the leg you're holding"

Gentle fingertips moved along your leg to your boot before pulling the map out.

"Good girl" he teased as he put your leg down and took his seat again.

"That was the easy part, now it will get tough"

"Great" you said as you tried to think of a way out.

He hesitated and suddenly something in his demenour changed.

"Why did you leave" he asked catching you off guard.

Suddenly the tension in the room became unbearable. You wanted out right now. The memory of the day you left him was too painful and you didn't want to think about it. Seeing him there right in front of you was already hard enough.

You lowered your head and he knew you wouldn't say a word. He got angry. He wanted, no he nedded to know why.

"You don’t want to talk about it?" Kid tilted his head, eyes glinting with a predatory gleam. "Fine. I’ll just have to get my answers" he snapped before attacking you again this time his mouth made contact with the tender flesh of your belly. He started biting, sucking and pulling on it - probably leaving marks.

"Kid" you stuttered voice shaky.

"Don't 'Kid' me now. What was it? Was I not enough? Did you find someone better?" he asked angrily as his mouth kept roughly devouring you. Knowing that this would get to you, it always did.

How you had missed this. How you were craving for his lips all over your body. But you couldn't let this happen. No. You left him almost a year ago, determined to never meet him again - the memories of your time together too painful.

He stopped his assault and instead placed small kisses from your waistline up to your chest before moving to your neck.

"You changed" you hitched as the sensation of him sucking on your neck became too much. He stopped, letting go of you.

You took a deep breath. "You changed - not for the good."

"What do you mean?" he asked and you were sure you could hear anger in his voice.

"You've become ruthless, and you pushed me away because you became obssessed with power and revenge and I couldn't take it anymore" you continued biting back a tear .

For a moment he stood there saying nothing but you could see his jaw clenching.

"You couldn't take it! Did you ever wonder what it was like for me when you just left" he shouted, now making you angry too.

"For fuck's sake I was constantly worried about you" you almost screamed. Kid blinked, taken aback by what you just said, though he tried not to show it outright. "You started to throw yourself into danger almost like you were on a suicide mission, like your life doesn't matter" you continued as the anger slowly subdued.

Kid stared at you for a long moment clenching his fist. "And all this time, you never thought to tell me this"

"What should I have said. Oh love please stop being a fucking menace because I'm terrified that you could die. Would you have listened to me?" and there was the anger again.

He said nothing knowing that you made a point. He would have listened to you but he probably would have brushed your concerns off.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension between you simmered, heavy with unresolved feelings.

"Do you still love me?" he asked looking at you intensely as you couldn't stop a tear from rolling down your face.

"You know the answer" you mumbled.

This moment, this vulnerability in your gaze reminded him of the times you've spent together. He started to realize that he missed you more than he wanted to admit.

"Last question before the games' over" he said his voice a mixture of anger, frustration and fear.

"Would you give me a second chance"

"I...." you paused not knowing what to say. Part of you wanted to scream yes but another part reminded you of why you left him.

"Forget it this whole thing was stupid from the start" he got up angrily and frustrated knocking the chair down in the process before aggressivly freeing you from your restraints.

"You're free to go better take the opportunity" he growled as you rubbed your wrists. You got up and moved towards the door hand already on the handle when you stopped and turned to look at him.

"What were you doing on this ship?" you asked eyes narrowing.

"None of your business" he snapped avoiding your gaze, muscles tensing.

You stepped closer stopping in front of him. "Funny that a treasure map that so many would like to have in their hands ends up in mine." you started observing him closely. "Now that I think about it what's even funnier is that on this whole treasure hunt I not once had to fight off someone or even got in trouble"

He tensed his jaw clenching, eyes focused on the ground.

"Why" you asked softly.

Your words hit a nerve, and Kid finally looked at you, his expression torn between anger and frustration.

"You think I let you run around chasing this treasure knowing how many other pirates are after it without keeping an eye on you."

You looked at him confused

"I had someone slip you the map, I remembered how your eyes gleamed everytime we went on a treasure hunt. So I made sure you got it, but then I found out that this was a map a lot of people wanted and i got worried." he continued his explanation

"You should never find out but who would have guessed that I had to jump in against my own subordinates." He mutters almost ashamed.

"You protected me the whole time?" you hadn’t expected this, heart racing as you tried to process the revelation.

Kid scoffed trying to hide his emotions. Secretly hoping that this might bring you back to him. Even though he knew better.

"Softie" you teased with a small laugh.

He stepped closer to you. "If you keep mocking me I'll tie you back down" he growled making you raise your hands in defense.

"And now go, before I change my mind and drag you back into this mess." he muttered. You could almost see his heart ache, no matter how hard he tried to hide it he didn't want you to go.

Once again you hesitated it was as if your head was already out the door but your heart couldn't move.

"Why are you doing this to me? To you? You should have let me go." You said close to tears.

"You think I can just turn it off? That I can forget everything we had? I may not be good at this 'feelings' crap, but even I know when I’m not ready to let go" he scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter smirk.

"There was not a day I wasn't thinking about you" you almost whispered as you closed your eyes the truth weighing heavily on your chest

Kid froze not quite believing what he just heard. He swallowed hard running his hand through his hair. You had meant to keep your feelings buried, to shield you from the pain.

"Even after everything?" He asked his voice unusally calm.

"I did, even when I shouldn’t have. I thought about all the things we shared, the way it ended… everything"

Kid’s expression softened, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile. You felt heat rise to your cheeks.

"I thought about you too, every damn day. But it was easier to pretend I didn’t." He replied.

KId's vulnerability was raw and that's why you appreciated this so much. The fact that he let you see this side of him meant more than anything to you.

But it also made everything so much more complicated.

"What now?" You asked fumbling nervously with your fingers.

"You leave but the map remains with me" he said coldly, trying to convince himself that this was the best for both of you.

"Seriously! That's my map and my treasure. And i won't let you take it from me" you shouted a mix of anger and boldness in your voice.

He looked at you and laughed devilish.

"Keep on dreaming mouse, the map is mine and now you better leave" he said dangerously as he waved the map before you.

You tried to grab for it but he just lifted it over your head . You lunged forward trying to reach for it until he wrapped his metallic arm around your waist.

The heat of his body causing your cheeks to flush. A shiver running down your spine as his muscular body was pressed against yours.

This was wrong you shouldn't enjoy it yet you did.

You looked at him leaning closer your lips mere inches from his. Both of your hearts were racing. You wanted to kiss him so badly but then you snatched the map out of his hand, wirggled out of his grasp and made for the door.

"Better hurry big boy otherwise you might lose sight of me" you teased as your ran out of the door smiling.

He stood there for a moment dumbstruck before an evilly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. The thrill of the chase stirred something primal in him, and he couldn’t help but enjoy it.

"You can run all you want, but you know I love a good chase" he shouted after you.

[diioonysus]

creepy/messed-up history facts

the man in the booth across from lincoln was named major henry rathbone, and after booth fired the shot, rathbone tried to tackle him to the ground, but booth sliced rathbone in the arm with a dagger. after that night, rathbone was never free of guilt. he suffered from stomach ailments to heart palpitations, and on december 23rd 1883, he attacked and killed his wife clara, and attempted to kill himself. he spent the rest of his life in a mental institution.

in 1494, sailors returning from the new world brought with them massive outbreak of syphilis, which spread through an entire french army, and with no antibiotics to counteract it, the disease spread unchecked. the skin on victims' faces would essentially rot away from the grisly ulcers. in some cases, the noses, lips and other body parts of the affected people were essentially gone.

in 1890, thomas edison, using wax cylinder, produced a line of baby dolls. they had wooden bodies, procelain heads, and miniature phonographs in their chests. the phonographs would play back recordings of young women reciting nursery rhymes like "hictory dickory dock," and "now i lay me down to sleep." (here's the audio of them x)

dentures used to be made from the teeth of dead soldiers. they were ivory base plates with real human teeth attached, a lot of these were sold to dentists by scavengers looting corpses from the battle of waterloo. the dentists would boil the them down, cut off the roots, attach them to ivory plates, and sell them.

in 1929, a pair of scientists at princeton university wanted to test and understand how the auditory nerve percieves sound, and their test subject was an alive cat. they cut out part of its brain and attached one end of a telephone wire to its auditory nerve and the other end to a reciever. weirdly enough, many researchers think this helped lead to the development of cochlear implants. but the cat was killed after the scientists wanted to see if it worked on a dead cat.

in 1726, mary toft told doctors that she gave birth to rabbits, and doctors were fully convinced until they found pieces of corn inside the stomach of one of the rabbits, proving that it hadn't developed inside her womb. she instead was manually inserting the rabbits to make the delivery look as realistic as possible.

it was believed that babies under the age of 15 months couldn't feel pain, so doctors would instead use muscle relaxers that had a paralytic effect to stop the baby from moving. this essentially meant they couldn't move or cry but they could still hear, see, and feel everything that was done to them. this was accepted up until 1980s

there was a tiger in india named man-eater of champawat who became dependent on human flesh, which at the turn of the 20th century inflicted a seven-year reign, killing 436 men, women, and children. she was eventually killed in 1907.

there was a book called "how the mail steamer went down in mid atlantic, by a survivor," which tells the story of an unnamed ocean liner that sinks in the atlantic. the protagonist is a sailor named thompson, who grows concerned over the lifeboat shortage, and sure enough the liners collides with a small sailing ship in a fog. as the ship sinks, only 200 of the 700 people on board survive. the second novella "the wreck of the titan: or, futility" by morgan robertson, follows the fictional ocean liner titan, which hits an iceberg in the north atlantic and sinks. like the titanic, the titan was described as the largest ship afloat at the time, both ships had a shortage of lifeboats, and the titan was dubbed "unsinkable." when the accident occurred, roberston simply said he was knowledgabe about maritime operations, saying "i know what i'm writing about, that's all."

some books created in the 18th and 19th century were bound in real human skin which was called anthropodermic bibliopegy. most of these books that were bound with human skin instead of animal skin were mostly based on anatomy or erotica.

during the battle of ramree island, which was fought between january and february 1945, japanese soldiers were cornered by english troops seeking to conquer burmese island of ramree, forcing japanese troops to cross 10 miles of swamp. the japanese soon began to suffer the effects of tropical diseases, but the presence of large numbers of scorpions, tropical mosquitoes and thousands of saltwater crocodiles, the world's largest reptiles, was even worse. In its genre. very aggressive beasts that can reach 8 meters in length and weigh more than a ton. according to some survivors, during the night, they were hunted one by one, in which the crocodiles would ambush them from underneath. and the survivors said the worst part was hearing the screams and the breaking of bones in the dark.

there is a cocodile named gustave (or was if you believe he's dead), a large nile crocodile in burundi who has been rumored to have killed 200-300 people. he's never been captured, but it has been stated that he could be "easily more than 20 feet, and weigh more than 2,000 pounds." he was/is estimated to be over 100 years old, and was/is described as having bullet wounds over his body, and his right shoulder blade was found to be deeply wounded, but they don't know what could have caused it. it's been rumored that he would leave the corpses he killed behind. in 2019, an article revealed he was killed, but there's no photographic evidence which leaves people doubting it's true.

[lady-djarin]

oh captain, my captain - pt.i

dbf!joel miller x f!reader (series of unknown parts)

warnings: legal age gap (joel is early 40's reader is late 20's-ish), no outbreak - circa early 2000’s, talk of readers fem body, reader wears a bathing suit, tension, kissing, mentions of smut, teasing, hints of exhabitionism, still kinda explicit, E 18+

word count: 2.1k

a/n: i can’t stop having daydreams about dbf!joel, he haunts me. so i wanna make at least another part but idk how many yet, i like where this is going so i’ll keep y’all updated ;) <3

joel miller’s instagram

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

"That's what you want to wear on the boat?" Sarah scanned the very cute but very thin cover up that was barely hiding your black bathing suit underneath. It was one of many options you were debating to sunbathe on the boat.

You turned around and looked in the mirror at yourself. "Yea why? Does it look weird?" Sarah was your best friend partly because she was so honest, she'd never let you go out looking anything less than 'perfect'. Even if you had very different definitions of perfect.

"No, not weird, but our dads are going to be there." She made a disgusted face like she smelled something rotten.

“Oh please it’s not that bad… my ass is completely covered!”

“Girl… your tits!” She pointed an accusing finger at your chest. It was true, they were ‘out’ but they looked good. The bathing suit made sure of that. “You do you, but if your boob flies out in front of both our dads I’ll be the one laughing.”

You giggled as she went back to flipping through a magazine. The two day boat trip was a summer tradition with your dad, Sarah and her dad, Joel. Joel was also your dads best friend. He was younger than your dad but they had a solid relationship after working together for over 15 years. That’s how you gained Sarah as basically a younger sister as well as best friend. It had been just you and your dad for a long time so it was nice having Joel and Sarah around to do ‘family’ things with. The countless family trips, birthdays and holidays meant you grew up around Joel and as you got older your view of him definitely changed.

Since you matured, so had your taste in men. Your first boyfriend in high school was barely even a boy, he was a small minded child with more interest in his baseball ‘career’ than you. He did lots of things that you now realize are the exact opposite of what you want in someone.

You now find yourself chronically single with a few stories to tell along the way. You also hate to admit that over the last couple of those shared holidays and trips that your eyes had started to linger on a particular man.

A man who you definitely should not be looking at that way. Somehow your brain had latched onto the idea that Joel Miller was the perfect man for you. He was caring and sweet and drop dead gorgeous. He was gorgeous in a rugged way, his brown messy waves and deep amber eyes. His cheeks were always covered in stubble. Stubble you wanted to feel between your thighs.

Only problem is, every time you start to think like that, you're reminded that he’s your dads best friend. You hang out with his daughter. It was wrong on so many levels, which only made you fall deeper.

You had caught yourself looking at him more than you care to admit, and him reciprocating just as much. That’s why you wanted to wear the black bathing suit, you knew he’d look.

—————

The morning of the trip was here and you were starting to get nervous. You were going to be trapped on the same small vessel as your biggest crush and your dad. That would throw anyone off.

You finished packing your bag and headed downstairs to find your dad making coffees for you both. As you swing into the kitchen you see another large form, wide shoulders stretching the canvas jacket. Joel turned around with a mug in one hand and rubbed the top of your head with the other. Your heart almost stopped beating for a second as he pulled you into a side hug.

“Hey kiddo,” his voice rumbled through your body at the contact.

He messed up your hair as you pushed away. “Don’t call me that,” you scowled and pushed down your hair. God, you felt like an idiot.

Your dad handed you a travel mug and you made for the bench by the front door to put your boots on. Before you made it, you felt the weight of your backpack being lifted from your shoulder.

“I got it sweetheart, I’m loading up the car.” You almost thought it was your dad at first but you turned to find those amber eyes next to yours. He squeezed past you in the small hallway, his whole body was practically rubbing against yours as he passed. He never called you anything like sweetheart.

He was gone before you could register and left you to put on your shoes.

You made your way to the driveway and Joel held the car door open for you. You settled into the seat behind the driver and he shut the door after you. Also new. The muffled boom of Joel's voice calling for your dad was the only noise until Sarah hopped in next to you. You were starting to dread the next almost 2 hour drive to the lake, having to sit behind Joel and not go crazy as your eyes connected through the rear view mirror.

—————

The boat they rented this year was a little bigger to your surprise. Your dad always made the overnight trip really special; Joel teaching you guys how to fish, making s'mores on the tiny gas stove and stargazing on the water. This year they really went all out, they got a slightly nicer one with a fancy bathroom and everything.

The whole reason you guys started this tradition was because Joel really liked fishing and knew how to drive a boat. He just rented a different one every year. This year it came with cushy seats, full sized beds and a little seating area on the deck. Most of your morning was spent reading on that deck as Joel and your dad set sail. You were thankful your dark sunglasses covered your lingering gaze that slid over Joel's form. Fuck, how could you not? His shirt was soaked with sweat as he worked the boat, muscles straining as he went about his tasks. You had no idea what he was actually doing, so distracted by his movements.

He seemed to be finished as he wiped his hands on a rag and sat himself next to you, slumping down with a sigh.

“Hey, where’s my kid?” He squinted down at your book. Nosey.

“She’s napping. Complained about waking up early.” You yanked your book away with a frown.

“Geez, that girl.” He put his hand on your knee as he stood up. Your skin was instantly on fire. “I’m gonna make some burgers, want one?”

All you could manage was a nod.

—————

The rest of the afternoon was pretty tame. You guys found a spot on the water you liked and the men started fishing and you and Sarah went to your shared room to change. Once you were ready you went to the small kitchen to grab some lemonade… and maybe add some of that vodka your dad brought. While your dad didn't care that you drank, being of legal age and all, he didn't endorse you letting Sarah drink, since she was a few years younger than you. But what he doesn't know won’t hurt him. Plus you poured Sarah half a shot, she'd be fine.

You two sat out there gossiping and reading books and magazines. You did decide to wear the black suit, the one that made your boobs look great. And boy did it pay off.

Since Joel and your dad were sharing the small deck with you guys, you had a perfect view of him. Even better, he had a perfect one of you. You caught him looking at you more often than not. You were actually kind of surprised that your dad didn't notice, or Sarah. But why question a good thing.

After the sun went down everyone changed and you all stargazed on the deck in the warm summer night until finally heading to bed. You and Sarah were sharing a tiny room and an even smaller bed, and while you never minded before, for some reason you couldn’t find a way to get comfortable. You tried your best to fall asleep, hoping the movement of the water would put you out. Once you saw the small clock glowing ‘2:26am’ you decided to go up and get some water, or maybe just stretch your legs.

You made your way up the narrow staircase into the main area where a small couch sat. The small couch that Joel was sitting on.

“Hey, what are you doin’ up?” He looked like he had been awake for a while too. You didn't know he wore glasses. He looked cute.

Fuck.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you rubbed your tired eyes, trying to focus on his face.

“‘M sorry darlin’, need anything?” He stood up from the couch, which was really just a bench with a blanket. He led you into the kitchenette and you waited as he poured you some water.

“Thanks… why are you still awake?” You sipped your water as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“I’m always worried somethin’s gonna happen to the boat if I fall asleep.” He watched as you finished your glass and put it in the sink. “You havin’ fun at least? I know we haven’t done much yet.”

“Ya I’m having a great time! I like doing nothing,” you admitted with a small giggle. “Plus I like watching you guys struggle with the fish.” That made both of you laugh under your breath.

“I like watching you too, sweetheart.”

Wait.

What?

You kind of just stared at him a little wide eyed while your brain processed his words. He had a sweet smile on his face like he didn’t just drop that bomb. He looked back at you and smiled wider when he saw the look on your face, the absolute shock that made your mouth slack open.

You were unsure of what to do at this point, it’s like your dreams were coming true but you had no idea how to handle it. Thank god he handled it himself by brushing his hand over your cheek, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You were pretty sure you malfunctioned because all you could do was stand there, unsure of how to take it.

“You looked so pretty, you always look so pretty.” He was staring at your lips now, clearly past the point of hiding this.

“Joel…” You almost wanted to pull away, this was kind of wrong.

His hand was still cupping your jaw, like he was unwilling to part from touching you. He looked into your eyes as he pulled you closer. Your heart was in your chest, this was wrong, you should pull away but couldn’t bring yourself to care at this point.

Your lips connected and you instantly melted, he was so warm and big, holding you in his strong arms. He held your waist close, pressing you against him.

The kiss was… something else. No one had ever kissed you like that before, maybe that’s the difference between boys and men.

His tongue slid over yours and you were lost, you both were. All semblance of shyness was gone as you devoured each other. His lips were soft as silk and his muscled arms held you close and roamed your curves. Neither of you wanted to part, even for air until you heard a noise coming from below deck. You reluctantly scrambled away from each other, worried your dad or Sarah would be walking up the stairs.

“I– I’m sorry darlin’,” he couldn't bring himself to look at you.

“Joel, I– it’s ok. Don't be sorry.”

There was a charged energy between you, like a spell neither of you wanted to break. He was the one to break first and he squeezed past you without so much as a look your way. You could tell he looked upset, ashamed almost and that hollow pit twisted in your stomach.

————

The rest of the trip went as usual, except for the fact that you and Joel couldn't keep your eyes off each other.

The only good thing was that your dad and Sarah were none the wiser. You weren't sure if Joel regretted the kiss or not, he seemed to have a permanent guilty look in his eyes. The memory of the kiss and the feeling of his lips on yours haunted you, unable to think of almost anything else.

When the boat docked at the end of the second day and as the group was gathering up the belongings to unload into the truck, you found yourself alone below deck with Joel.

Alone.

“Hey kiddo, ready to go home?” It was almost cold the way he regarded you now.

What the hell? What did you do? He can’t act all high and mighty, he kissed you! You only managed a scoff in response. That melted his icy exterior.

“Why ya givin’ me attitude?” His voice was just barely lower than normal volume, his thick brows knitted in the middle.

“Your acting like that was my idea last night.”

The left over desire from the previous night was boiling over into burning rage, but you couldn’t deny you were still soaking between your thighs.

“You kissed me, Joel!”

“Will you quit yellin’!” He backed you up against a section of wall in the small room. His deep rumble of a voice both angered you and turned you on.

“I’m not ye—,” your voice was cut of by his thick fingers covering your lips.

“Shut up. I swear darlin’, you’ve got a fucking mouth on you.” He was practically growling in your ear. You felt kind of filthy like this; pressed between a wall and Joel’s hard body, his hand smothering your sounds.

“You wanna get caught? Hmm?”

Your eyes sparkled back at him, almost begging him to fuck you here and now. Instead of indulging you, he took one last long look at you before turning away without another word.

—————

After he left you speechless below deck, Joel helped you pack the rest of the bags into the car and thus begun the 2 hour drive back. You sat behind Joel again, on purpose this time, knowing you had power over him now.

You spent the whole way home making eye contact with those big brown eyes in front of you. You did your best to convey your wanton need through your gaze, licking your lips and watching his eyes track the movement.

After you all said your final goodbyes, your dad ran inside to go to the bathroom and Sarah was passed out in the backseat, leaving you once again, alone with Joel.

“I had fun Joel, hope we can do it again sometime.” You refrained from hiding any of the sarcasm and giddy in your voice.

“You better watch yourself darlin’.” You could tell he really was worried about getting caught.

This was going to be fun.

[katz-chow]

of apple pies and bloody knives chapter one: a haze in the fields

warnings: pilot to slasher!graves x fem!reader, hallucinations, hauntings, paranoia

word count: 1,000

Amber waves of grains only applied to two parts of the United States, the Midwest, and Texas. Even with being one of the most well-known lines within American patriotism, one must see the image of urban life rather than endless fields of golden. Flat plains rolled by the windows of her small Chevy, the peaked window caused strands of brown hair to dance in the warm, late summer air. Over her shoulder in the back of the Impala, boxes of essentials clinked and clattered whenever the pavement proved to be porous

Sporadically hitting small towns on the way to her destination, fields turned into hills and then back to drier, rougher patches of empty land, a white dot of a house on the horizon. Orange clouds illuminated the sky as she turned on her lights, and a wave of dread washed over her. The rear view mirror showed nothing but sun-bleached tar and rocky hills behind her. For a pretty girl, even in the absence of men, she will never find peace, now or ever.

The familiar glow of a 7-11’s enthralled her like a moth to a flame, welcoming her back to civilization and the safety net of a crowd. The chill of a Montanan night shivered through her, arms tight on her chest as the wind whistled a soft tune. ‘No more than 20 minutes…’ She promised herself, stepping through the blast of air.

It didn’t even take 15 when she was back on the road again, tank full, bladder emptied, and switchblade thankfully still closed. Making good time, she started up her ending journey to Marburn, Montana. Never heard of it? Good. She checks the time on the dash of her car, ‘11:32 PM’ it read. It was late and late is always bad for a girl. She steps on the gas.

“How long you gon’ be here for, Sweetheart?” The extended-stay motel clerk asked as he thumbed the toothpick between his lips. The teal paint smothered the crackled walls behind him mixed with the fluorescent lights made him look greenish, hair flowing from the desk fan not escaping this effect either.

She fished for her credit card from her wallet and slid it across the counter to him, “Hopefully for a while, but let’s just say 2 weeks for now.”

Her eyes darted over his face, taking in his image just in case. His patchy stubble and tired eyes lent the appearance of a raccoon.

The man shrugged and swiped her card, a satisfying ding echoed from the machine. “$79 for the first week, then it’s $65 for the next, you got that?”

She continued to stare at him, her eyes empty and dead set on the space between his eyes, almost as if in a daze. “Yes, sir.” She whispered.

She took back her card from his hand and the small key to her room. The clock hit midnight as she tugged on her luggage into the damp and dingy motel room.

Locking the door behind her, she also closed the blinds, hanging up a tarp covering the windows as well. She hid. The room was small, with a bed, a pull-out couch, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette with a gas stove, fridge, and microwave. It was doable for the next few weeks, until she can confirm her work and boarding. That, however, was a task for the future. It all resembled a college dorm except if the student had paid extra to get a suite; she smiled just knowing she wasn’t back in that dump, but her smiled dropped into a thinned-lipped frown knowing she was never far from him.

She thought about the boxes of dishes and other necessities in the back seat of her car, debating on whether or not to risk the trip. Her fingers opened the blinds, face nearing in on the dust and eyes peaked between the plastic. Her eyes traveled to the white Chevy parked upfront, the diamond frame of her license plate peeled off. The empty voids mixed with the glittering crystals reminded her of the emptiness in beehives; some filled with honey and nectar while others were left abandoned, hollowed out as if only there to just be there. She sympathized with them as she looked away, catching sight of the innate feeling of danger.

A pair of eyes stared at her, a figure just out on the other side of the parking lot. The figure stood, hunched over a car trunk and turned backward towards her, eyes peering in like a mannequin. His face etched an image of a familiarity, a far she could never forget as he wore the faded red hoodie that she had stolen from him just months prior, laughter bubbled up in them both.

Now, even that thick, old hoodie couldn’t shield the chill than sprinted down her spine, her ears pooling with blood as her heart drummed a solid allegro in her chest. Her stomach growled. It was getting too late in the night, she thought, not worth the trip. Her fingers relaxed as she pulled herself away from the empty parking lot, only her white Chevy in front.

If there she could describe the room in one mood, unsettling would be the word. Dim, yellow lights caused all the shadows on the peeling wallpaper to enhance itself with long shadows, always looming over her seemingly small form. Despite this, she still found the warmth and comfort of tight sheets in a made bed. It wasn’t heavy like how she would remember her bed at home–or well, what was home, but it was better than the back of her car.

Sleep cradled her in its arms, rocking her to a blissful, silent slumber–which was appreciated in comparison to the long nights of sweat-drenched nightmares and paranoia. She was okay, she chanted in her head, convincing herself and the monster that is anxiety and intrusive thoughts. New environment, new life, new identity, she is truly scattered to the winds; a field of dandelions. 

[apieters]

Dialogue Scraps, Swashbucklers of the Magic Kingdom

For context: everyone is on a pirate ship

André: 🎼🎶The bosun’s brained with a marlinspike…🎵

Chris: André, you can’t sing that in front of the kid! He’ll have nightmares.

André: Oh, please, he doesn’t even know what a marlinspike is.

Kopa: Hey guys, what’s this? (holds up a marlinspike)

Chris and André: Uhhhh…

[rowretro]

✧𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓✧

WARNINGS: 

✧tag list✧:@chlorinecake @nikisdubblchococake @enhypensccstarlight @strwberrydinosaur @sunghoonsbeautymark @strawbsj  @who-tf-soddhi @addictedtohobi (pls tell me if i'm missing any tags)

✧CHAPTER 20✧

“Gun to your head, what’s better, a cocaine dealership that we have now, or we kill our partner and take his shit?” Riki asked as y/n made a thinking face “Gun to my head I say… pull the trigger!” she said with a smile as Yeseol giggled.

“Babe, think about it, one potential threat will be killed and we will just have to focus on Yeonjun.” Riki explained as the girl sighed. “Sweetheart… No. If you kill him, who will take care of his child? Definitely not us because I don’t want to deal with a 15 year old at this young age.” She warned as he sighed.

“Whatever, get Yeseol dressed we’re going to see Kyle play for the school today~” Riki said with an endearing smile, hearing this, Yeseol ran. “Ugh babe- you know how much she hates getting dressed- why’d you say it out loud?!” She exclaimed as Rikikissed her neck “Sorryyy, it’s just… I’m so proud… we raised a talented kid~” he said with a smile as he back hugged y/n. It’s true. Riki never expected his ten year old son to take on such a big role, playing for his school.

Another thing Riki did not expect was for his son’s perfect moment to score a goal being completely ruined by a simple gunshot. The ambulance was scurrying to save the only child who was injured. Riki’s child. Kyle. his leg bloody, his eyes shut, his pulse was gone. Was this it?... The end? The end to something beautiful all because of Riki being a druglord. Wake up Riki…

“Riki wake up!” Y/n called out again as the man flinched, waking up. “Fuck it was just a dream, thank fucking god.” he sighed in relief as y/n frowned. “What- I… just get ready, Kyle’s match is today.” the girl said as Riki stared at her wide eyed “KYLE’S MATCH- NO HE CAN’T PLAY-” he said as y/n flinched “Why not?” “YEONJUN WILL KILL HIM, HE MIGHT BE THERE TO KILL HIM.” Riki added as y/n sighed.

Kyle did play. Not only did he play but he won just for his school and everyone was so proud. Y/n was proud of two men that day though. Dead at night, the kids were asleep, Y/n wrapped her arms around Riki’s torso, her chest hitting his back. Riki smiled, turning around  as he pulled her into a loving kiss, his lips lingering above her lips before he rested his forehead upon hers.

“We don’t need to leave… I’ll figure something out” Riki said as y/n just smiled “I’m just glad you’re finally stopping yourself from getting into bigger trouble… Even though it just took you a nightmare to decide not to be a drug lord anymore” Y/n pouted. 

Just then, multiple gunshots were heard, the two ducked, Yeseol was safe in the nursery, the only bulletproof room. However… “Uncle Choi?” The two heard Kyle suddenly say. Riki stood up, freezing as he saw the scene before him. Yeonjun held the little boy at gunpoint. “It’s time Riki… time I see you fucking cry and beg me.” Yeonjun said with a smirk. 

“Yeonjun drop the fucking gun I swear to fucking god.” Riki warned, tears daring to leave his eyes. “Y-You wouldn’t kill a kid-” Y/n added as she dropped to her knees, Riki following her action. “P-Please?...” Riki finally said, So many goddamn years. Yeonjun felt a wave of pleasure hit his brain seeing Riki so… broken. He was feeding off of his misery… He just wants to die knowing he got his revenge. 

The gunshot sounded as Y/n screamed. A bullet hole in Kyle’s forehead. 10 Fucking years. That’s how long Riki managed to protect the poor child. Yet he died, not a clue as to why and what happened. Not a clue as to who his birth parents are, God just wanted to trouble the poor child, and seeing Riki so fearlessly protect him, God decided to take the child and keep him for himself. Yeonjun right after, a sinister smile on his face.

✧𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓✧

[reixtsu]

ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖 - ✾ Shared Interests ✾ - Soukoku x Female Reader

So I decided to post this on Tumblr too!

Third Person POV

"Shinju wa hitori dewa deki nai~" a man hummed happily underneath the sunset of Yokohama. It was quiet where he was. No cars, no people, just him on a pier over the water.

The pier was high above the water. The salty breeze tickled his nose and dances around his coat. The waves cascaded on the waves repeatedly, creating a soothing ambiance as the man stared into its watery depths. The water constantly moving, never still...what if he went in?

"Oi, Dazai. What are you doing here? Trying to do another attempt?" Another voice remarked.

The said man, Osamu Dazai turned around to look at the shorter male. His face was enigmatic, as if contemplating his decisions in life. "What do you want, Chuuya?"

"I was gonna clear my mind but then you're here," Chuuya growled, placing a hand on his hip as he stood besides the brown haired man. He kept one hand on top of his hat, making sure it doesn't fly away from the violent wind.

"Ew. A slug is next to me," Dazai dramatically gagged, acting  as if he was going to barf.

Chuuya side eyed him, too tired to deal with  dramatic suicidal maniac.

"Oi, bastard."

"What do you want, hat rack?"

"Tch," Chuuya refrained himself from lashing back, despite his muscles really wanting to punch the other man in the face. Dazai just smirked at him. "That new girl in your agency...what's her name?"

Oh? That was something Dazai did not expect Chuuya to ask this soon. Dazai smirked, placing his elbows on the rail as he gazed at the painting of warm colors in the sky.

"Didn't think you had nice taste in women, Chuuya." Dazai said humorously. "Well, her name is Y/n L/n. Quite the beaut, I'd say so myself. She's the new therapist assigned to work for our clients in the detective agency."

Chuuya hummed, his deep voice catching onto his throat slightly as his blue orbs stared at the water. The sunset seemed to melt into the ocean, adding a tint of orange upon the water's surface.

"That so? Good to know," Chuuya muttered pensively.

Dazai side glanced Chuuya, quietly observing his features as he figured out the meaning behind them. "Ah. Shortie has a crush now? Oh wow, and here I thought you were married to wine!" He said in a silvery tone.

"Says the suicidal mackerel," Chuuya retorted, feeling his patience slowly dissipating. "So what if I find someone attractive!"

"So you do admit~" Dazai let out a light hearted chuckling, making Chuuya jump away in disgust.

"How about we make a bet, hm?" 

"Bets with you would be the death of me," Chuuya muttered, glaring daggers at Dazai. To the taller man, Chuuya looked like an angry Chihuahua.

"A challenge then. Wine will be the prize~"

"...What is it?" The ginger grumbled, taking off his hat to place it over his chest as he turned to look at Dazai's profile.

Dazai looked back at Chuuya with a shit-eating grin that made Chuuya want to kick him into the water. The wind made both of the men's hair flutter gently at the rhythm of the breeze.

"I'll make her fall in love with me in 15 days or less!" Dazai smirked confidently.

"Oh yeah? As if I'd let you!" Chuuya stomped his feet like a child, looking pissed at Dazai's challenge. 

Chuuya's response only make Dazai' grin bigger and much more irritating.

"The timer starts tomorrow at eight in the morning. Good luck! You need it since you don't have her contacts~~~ Ack- Chuuya you're chocking me!"

"Kinky bastard, give me her number," Chuuya growled. He kept his gloved hand grasped tightly around Dazai's collar as he stared into Dazai's dead eyes.

"Ahaha. Left my cell phone in my house, aka trash can~!"

And overwhelming about of disgust crashed onto Chuuya, causing him to let go of Dazai.

"You dirty bastard! Nasty! No wonder you get rejected so often."

Dazai had never gasped so dramatically until that moment. He jumped back multiple times as if he had been struck. Slumping back, he laid his hand over his head, emotionally offended.

"Don't involve the waifus into this."

"Ha! Waifu?! You got no bitches!"

"Gasp! Neither do you."

"I have my wine! Besides, I'm 'bout to steal this Y/n L/n before your filthy hands touch her!"

"I've shaken hands with her."

"You will NOT make me jealous now!"

Next: *none yet*

I might add a tag list. If you wanna get tagged, let me know in the comments or just dm me!

[reds-skull]

BLOOD||HUNGER

[PREV PART] [AO3]

So I wrote both this and the oneshot on the strike week, just had to add the quotes and polish them a bit before posting :)

This chapter's name is "Wont of Devils"

[Wont means habit, didn't know that before looking it up]

Page 15 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 6:

What shall I call you, the Blind Man once asks,

A Beast is all I know, the creature answers,

Yet the man urges, heart yet sated,

It is but what people past have named you,

A Beast is all I know, the monster answers,

The Blind Man quiets, so a Beast speaks,

I shall name you anew, not with words,

But with deeds,

How would one do so, the Beast queries,

The Blind Man finds his answer,

With terrible mercy,

With ferocious will,

To not stand on a path paved, but to carve,

Mark yourself with actions yet to come.

Yet again, Soap rejects the easy way out. He can feel Ghost’s gaze prickle his nape. 

He wonders, what the soldier thinks of him now. Ghost agreed with his past actions, in a way not many did… and when he told him of Price and Lieutenant Riley, Soap could swear he saw something different in his eyes…

Almost like a light ignited behind them.

Soap turns around to look at Ghost. Somehow, he can still see some of that light, muted within his dark brown eyes. He shakes away those thoughts - he’s not here to befriend the criminal. They have a job to do.

“We should move. Not gonna find anyone to grab around here.” he moves past Ghost, and past his damn absorbing eyes. He hears the man trail him.

Soap steps around the many corpses Ghost left behind (all with one clean slit in their throat - efficiently and expertly killed), “what intel do you have on the Hunter?”

Ghost lets out a huff, “practically nothing. They’re more thorough than me, don’t think anyone alive has seen their face.”

“Nationality?”

Ghost shakes his head, “unknown. Never talked to me, had a communicator relay information for them.”

“A communicator… think they’re the ones on comms as well?”

“Know they are.” Ghost murmurs, “recognized their voice. They were there when the fucker poisoned me.”

Soap watches Ghost’s leg shaking again, sees how his arm loosens its grip on his knife. “Most of the soldiers runnin’ around here won’t know where the commander is, most likely. But I bet the communicator would…”

The radios of multiple dead soldiers crackle up, a tinny voice demanding a status report. Soap is struck by an idea, and leans down to unclasp the comms from one body.

“-have you located the Brits?”

“Affirmative.” Soap grunts, donning on a more American accent, half smirking when Ghost’s head whips around to stare at him, “one soldier, unconscious. Should we bring ‘em to you, sir?”

The communicator instantly replies, “unconscious? If you haven’t roughed him up too much, get him to the abandoned water tower over east. I’ll deal with him personally.”

Soap smiles, answering easily, “copy that, sir.”, and clicking off the radio.

Ghost’s eyes are slightly wider than usual, and Soap takes it as a win that he managed to take the man by surprise, “well? What are ye waitin’ fer? Let’s get teh the water tower.” he lets out with a heavy Scottish accent.

The Brit shakes his head, huffing an almost-laugh, “after you, Sergeant.”

Something odd bubbles up Soap’s chest, while he and Ghost make their way to a vehicle. He never cared much for the approval of his COs, something that was probably detrimental to his career in the end, but…

He doesn’t finish the thought. Despite how, over the day, he started seeing the man hiding behind the skull mask, that man still betrayed him. Ghost is an enemy of the 141, not someone to be trusted.

Soap had seen men do unspeakable things in the past. You don’t need to be a monster to be evil.

The drive to the water tower is quiet. Soap occasionally glances at Ghost, watching his limbs spasm every once in a while. Ghost catches him, and from then on tries to suppress his muscles, which only makes the rest of his body shake with exertion.

Soap thrums his fingers on the steering wheel, brows furrowed. He’s not been trained on interrogation tactics since his unit was forced on a course for that, and even that knowledge was rusty before he got discharged. He opens his mouth to ask Ghost about it when the man beats him to it.

“I needed to go to the doctor for my inability to navigate roads.” he mutters through clenched teeth.

Soap tilts his head, “...what?”

“Turns out I just needed directions.”

Was that… is he…?

He groans, “not my strongest one, I know.”

Soap turns his head to stare at Ghost, “... that was the worst pun I’ve ever heard.” the fuck is he quoting dad jokes for all of a sudden??

Ghost’s eyes crescent with hidden mirth, “I’d like to hear you-shit- hear you do b’tter.” his right arm started shaking too, Soap notes. The poison is started to spread there…

Oh. He’s… distracting himself.

“...A drill Sergeant once told me, ‘I didn’t see ye at camouflage training this morning, Private.’” Soap slowly says.

Ghost hums, the shaking going from his shoulders right down to his fingertips.

Soap continues, “Ah told him ‘well, thank ye very much, sir.’”

Ghost closes his eyes behind the mask, leaning his head back on the headrest, “not bad. What do you get when you drop a piano on an army officer?”

“Tell me.”

The Brit’s leg kicks uncontrollably, “a f-flat major.”

Soap couldn’t stop his chuckle, “alright, I’ll give ye that one.”

“We could do this all day.” Ghost murmurs, the convulsing recedes and his limbs finally relax.

His brown eyes open to stare at him.

Soap averts his eyes, “that’s what I’m afraid of…”

Soap thanks every god he could name for the tinted windows their stolen truck has, making it so when a soldier passes them by, he just drives away. 

The water tower is a large, domed structure, which was once white but over the years lost most of the paint job. Soap spots a man overwatching the makeshift base underneath him. Must be their target.

He rolls the truck to a stop near the staircase, hopping out and taking cover behind a stack of crates. Ghost soundlessly joins him, surveying the area.

“Only way up is through the stairs…” Soap says half to himself. The stairs wrap around the outside of the tower, leaving whoever climbs them completely exposed for the entire way. 

Ghost grumbles, “we’ll need to look convincing only from afar.” He lowers to a tighter crouch, “get on, Soap.”

Soap blinks, “huh??”

“You told ‘em you captured an enemy. One of us needs to act as the captive, and the other needs to carry them up.” Ghost looks him up and down, “and not only you don’t look like a Hunter’s soldier, frankly I don’t think you’ll be able to carry me for that long.”

Soap tenses, wanting to argue back but finding no holes in Ghost’s argument. He steps closer to the masked man, awkwardly draping himself over his shoulders so he could lift him in a fireman carry. 

“Jus’ so ye know, I would’ve hauled ye easily.”

Ghost rises up effortlessly, and Soap feels his gloved hands securing his hands and feet, “I’m sure you would, Soap.” He starts up the stairs, “hope your acting is as good as your Yankee accent.”

“Ye ordering me to play dead?”

“No, just knocked out.”

Soap rolls his eyes, “Ah don’t have to follow ‘em, ye know-”

Ghost pulls on his boot lightly, “sleeping people don’t talk, Johnny.”

His mouth snaps shut. Soap closes his eyes, leaving him with only one thing to focus. That being Ghost, the warmth exuding from him, the hold he has on Soap, and his words.

He never lets people call him “Johnny”. As a kid, he found it patronizing, and as he got older the feeling only got stronger. The only ones that won’t be in danger of getting punched for it would be his family, but that doesn’t mean he likes it even from them.

After being dishonorably discharged, he had to go back to being “John”. Over the many months in the civilian world, he grew to hate that name, grew to despise being reduced to that weak, pathetic mess.

And yet, when Ghost called him that, low and gravelly, deep Manchurian accent rounding the syllables…

Soap would have to lie to himself to say he truly hated that.

Ghost leans him against a wall when they reach the top, motioning him to stay still while a soldier comes to question them. The Brit waits until the unsuspecting soldier rounds the corner, and in a flash slices his throat and catches his falling body. He drops the dead man off (with much less care than he gave to Soap), and inspects the walkway ahead.

“Clear. Rise and shine, Soap.” 

Soap doesn’t get up instantly, opting to search the body and take a few garments. Specifically, the bulletproof vest marked with the Hunter’s blood-red insignia of a skull, and the black face mask covering the soldier’s nose and mouth.

Ghost nods in approval, cleaning the bloody knife off on his pants and tucking it back in place. They both lower to sneak quietly towards the front of the water tower, where a small control room is built up against the dome.

The walkway is dead silent, and Ghost grabs the handle, lifts a hand to motion Soap to be ready on 3, and slams the door open.

The communicator inside startles, hand reaching for his weapon. Soap rushes forward, tackling the man before he could lay a finger on the metal.

“Who the fuck-” the communicator snarls, before his eyes widen so much Soap fears they’ll pop out of his skull. Ghost slinks out of the shadows, a blade twirling in his hand.

The man underneath him trembles in panic, “Ghost…”

The Brit looks down at him, “tie ‘im up.”

Soap grabs the radio off the man’s shoulder, letting it clatter to the floor, and yanks him up to the office chair besides the desk. He finds zip ties scattered among the gear on the table, and makes quick work of securing the communicator to the chair. The man struggles, but Soap roughly binds his arms and legs to the chair.

Ghost shuts the door, slowly stepping closer to the communicator, “we need the location of the Hunter. You are going to give it to us.”

The man spits, “fuck you. You can go shove your damn knife up your-”

Ghost stops his rambling by taking his jaw and shutting it, “I said”, he drags the knife down his throat, “you’re going to give it to us…” he presses the blade to the pale skin, letting beads of blood roll down the man’s neck, “by force, if necessary.”

The communicator tries to back away from Ghost, but Soap takes his shoulders and straightens him.

He lets himself soak in the anger and fury that fuelled him for the past several days. This man, along with the Hunter, are the ones responsible for the destruction that befell on the city. They’re the creators of orphans, the destroyers of homes, the instigators of unjust pain.

Soap growls at the communicator’s ear, “we killed the guard. No one will hear you scream from up ‘ere. I suggest you start talkin’.”

The man doesn’t look at him, his stare pinned on Ghost’s knife, now shining with deep red blood. Soap thinks the communicator’s voice is far less confident than he wants it to be when he snarls, “I don’t know where they are!”

Soap pushes his nape to face him, “bullshite.”

The man’s eyes flicker between his, confusion overtaking his dread for a moment, “who the fuck are you?!”

“He’s with me.” Ghost grounds, pressing the tip of the blade to the man’s groin, “and you better stop asking questions and start giving answers, otherwise I might decide to not leave you with a working pair.”

The chair rattles with the force of the communicator’s struggling, “I don’t know! I don’t know-!”

Ghost slides the knife off the man, only to sink it into his thigh. The communicator opens his mouth to shout, but Soap clasps a hand over it to silence it.

“Wrong answer, mate.” Ghost’s voice lacks any of the deep roundness it had when he was calling him ‘Johnny’. Instead, it is sharp and cold, so much so that even Soap has to suppress a shiver.

The knife is pulled out of the flesh, a dripping sound joining the muffled screams of pain. Ghost moves the knife up, positioning it over the man’s shoulder.

“Where is your commander hiding?”

Soap feels the communicator’s head shaking, his eyes squeezed shut.

Ghost doesn’t bat an eye, driving the knife slowly into his shoulder.

Soap has to bite his tongue at the sounds the communicator makes. He has interrogated before, seen a lot worse than this, but the way Ghost looks almost disinterested, completely unaffected by the man, emotionless and methodical…

He doesn’t remind him of a beast, or a monster, at this moment.

No, Ghost is a weapon. A serrated edge, a rusted knife.

A cruel blade.

“Stop!!! Please stop!!!!!”

Ghost wipes his blade on the man’s ruined shirt, “all you have to do is answer. You decide when it stops.”

The communicator gasps for air, tear tracks and snot running down his blotchy face, “I can’t! They’ll kill me, m-my family!!!”

Ghost slashes his chest again, ignoring the man’s pleas.

This is taking too long. Soap has moved to the door, keeping watch over the stairs for any investigating soldiers. So far, the coast has been clear, but they’re not exactly working with unlimited time here.

“You’ll die either way.” Ghost says apathetically, “you can die quick, or I can keep chipping away at you. And believe me.” Ghost flicks some blood off to the marred floor, “I know how to keep you alive to feel it all.”

“Please-!!!”

Ghost lifts his hand to swing at the communicator again, when his arm seizes up. Soap hears the knife clatter to the ground, Ghost soon following.

“Hrgh… fuck…” the Brit growls, his limbs convulsing uncontrollably. Soap crouches down to help him when he hears a wheezing laugh.

The communicator, tears still in his eyes, heaves a gurgling chuckle, “I almost started worrying you were immune to it.” he says between laughter, “the Ghost, brought to his knees. How I wish the Hunter was here to see this!”

“I’ll still fuckin’- fucking hell…” Ghost’s jaw is clenched, the words barely getting out. Soap drags him up to lean against a wall.

He’s fed up with the communicator’s laughter quickly enough, and stomps over to grab him by his short hair and pull his gleeful face towards him.

“I think ye forget I’m still here, you bastard. Tell us where yer boss is!”

The man winces at Soap’s handling, but his eyes are still curved in mirth, “why do you care?” he asks with a smile, “do you even know who’s your partner over there?”

Soap feels his anger overflowing, “I care because you’re here, massacring innocent people like they’re fuckin’ animals! Where the fuck is the Hunter?!”

“We did it to frame him”, the man nods to Ghost’s shaking form, “someone needed to take the Ghost down.”

…What? Some part of Soap shouts that it doesn’t matter. Another tells him he shouldn’t care what Ghost has done to warrant that.

A third, loud voice, commends him to dig further.

“Why?” Soap asks lowly, and Ghost groans behind him, clothes rustling as he tries to get up.

The communicator barks a short laugh, “why?! He’s a fuckin’ merc, buddy! Doesn’t care who pays, as long as they pay good! Do you know how many politicians this guy killed?! High ranking officers?!! He could topple countries, He survived the worst of the worst, cheated death himself!”

Ghost’s movements stop.

The communicator’s mouth curls into a sharp smile, “didn’t you, Simon Riley?”

Soap takes a step back, eyes wide in shock. That’s- Ghost is-?!

A knife wheezes past him, barely missing his ear before burying into the communicator’s right eye. The man’s cheerful expression lasts for a second longer, before his features slack and his head hangs down, lifeless.

Soap stares at the corpse, breath halted. He turns around slowly, stare sliding over Ghost’s extended arm.

“What… the fuck… did you do?”

Simon’s eyes don’t meet his.

Page 19 of the  “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 7:

There are many Beasts, who roam the blessed land,

Many creatures who one, who wishes for his fellow men well,

Must slay with no remorse.

It is why a hunter, a man such as myself,

Must take a heavy blade, and bury it within the monster.

Yet you, Blind Man,

You protect this evil?

The Blind Man answers, this is no beast,

No more twisted than me, no more different to his fellow men than me.

Very well, the hunter does not falter,

This path seems to only harbor beasts,

And therefore I shall slaughter you both.

[slutforslytherin]

girls just want to have fun

warnings: kissing , slight choking , kinda fingering(above underwear) , swearing , smoking , underage drinking , weird men / underage girls / based in baby on netflix. but they are hp characters.

summary: y/n = you + best friend pansy (ludo) skip a halloween party to go to a hookers club pansy’s been going to for awhile. you arrive and get flooded with compliments but one boy catches your eye.

-

“I dont know pans” , i sigh in front of my begging friends body. “Please y/n you will have so much fun , plus who wants to go to a stupid school party” she giggles holding my hands tight , i think about it for a few seconds deciding it wouldn’t be as bad as i thought.

“whatever then this better be fun” i point in her now red face , she jumps up happily scolding my waist into a tight hug “i wont disappoint” she winks in my direction as i put on a slight smile.

Rummaging through clothes i find the perfect dress , stops just below my thigh covers up just enough of my body revealing certain body parts to make people crazy “pans whatchu think” i give a small twirl as her eyes trail around my body “sexyyy” she circled me poking my back causing me to squirm “you look sexy to” i wink biting my lip slightly as the sight of her in a beautiful red dress hugged her body perfectly.

“Pansy we are leaving now , see you later” pansy’s mum knocked on the door walking away with a gentle sigh. which was the perfect time , i pulled out a cigarette from my velvety purse along with a lighter reading ‘cry babies do it best’ ,. i light the cigarette which is placed between my lips taking a gentle drag inhaling the strong smoke before handing it over to pansy.

After a while we check the time reading ‘7:36’ , the party came around at like 8:15 so we rushed. Grabbing each of our purses burning the remainder of the cigarette and walking out the door “you exited” she asked sitting in the drivers seat of her car , me following behind in the passenger.

“i guess you could say that” i teased leaning my head into my hands “oh yeah guess who’s there” she said my eyebrow slightly raising “Theodore nottt and his puppets” my jaw drops eyes opening wide “what the fuck seriously” i questioned since there the popular boys who wouldn’t be seen dead with hookers.

She giggles as she pulls up outside a large building three big men standing outside in suits and tuxedos grinning at beautiful ladies walking beyond them in small dresses hardly covering there body “i wont have to fuck no old grandads will i” i joke hoping for a good answer “only if you want” she winks grabbing my hand as we run towards the entrance.

“fiore” pansy nods my eyes meet with a beautiful man standing in front slowly shaking pansy’s tiny hands “pansy evening, nice seeing you again” he smiles “this is” he pointed in my direction slowly grabbing my hand “im y/n , its nice to meet you” i gave a shy smile as he placed a gently peck on my knuckle.

small pecks of blush creep on my cheeks as he holds both of our lower backs to lead us in , we took small footsteps in our tall red heels him in the middle posh black shoes placed on his feet “here we are ladies enjoy” he winks giving my back a small push as i get greeted with loud music flashing purple lights and small smiles.

“grrr” men whisper in our ears as we walk through wine glass in my hand sipping and licking as pansy plays fiore’s tie “hey check it out” pansy nudges my arm as i look over and see theodore sitting beside matteo and draco sipping on cool white whiskey admiring my body by the looks of it “is he looking at me” i turn around facing pansy “hes walking towards you” she winks pushing me back as my back falls into his chest.

“So a whore huh” he spoke “excuse me” i took slight offence as he held his hands up in a surrender motion “kidding , why are you here princess” he teased my body holding onto my waist digging his longer finger nails into my hip “pansy invited me , and you” i questioned , theodore has been a good friend of mine ever since primary school but we kinda drifted away since we got older “matteo invited me , like a year ago haven’t stop coming since” he ate a olive out of his drink as music played gently.

“why are you here y/n , a sweet innocent girl like you being flirtatious with older men hm” he put a strand of hair behind my ear as my eyes look down. I felt his hand creep to my throat gently tugging “i uh i didn’t fancy going to the school party so” as i tried to finish his lips connected with mind.

Our tongues played with each others top and bottom lip until he slipped it into my mouth , “mm” is all i managed to get out as his fingers swam beneath my dress.

His finger going over my covered clit

causing a small whimper to escape into his burning mouth. i grinded upon his two fingers as his hand had a tight grip on my throat squeezing ever so often “fuck” i moaned into his mouth gaining a small smirk “feel good cara mia hm” he kisses my temple as i felt a knot in my stomach “m’so close” i bit my lip bruising it as my legs shake.

I seriously just came on THEODORE NOTT’S fingers at a party? oh my , he continued rubbing my clit until it throbbed begging for him to let go “i i came theo” i put my head in his neck as he removed his fingers “hm take that as a warning bella come back here again it will be a punishment” he winked.

my body left shaking in the middle of a dance floor as he sits back down with his friends acting like nothing happened.

-

AWFUL I KNOW STAWP

[aussiepineapple1st]

What is Happening to Me (Part 15)

Leon x F!Reader

Words: 1,673 Contains: Whump, Angst, Death.

Part 1 | Pervious | Next

Leon had already scooped you up into his arms, making another 2 of the suppressants. One for if you need it again and another for the BSAA's Lab. Your arms were wrapped around his neck to help hold yourself up in his arms, not wanting to be heavy for him to carry. Leon didn't mind, you were light enough to carry comfortably for a long distance. One of the reasons he made sure he was strong was to carry anyone if need be, especially you.

Making your way back down in the elevator Leon walks down the stairs to ground level and walks you out of the building. Taking you all the way through the town back to the car you had driven here.

"What happened?" The Sargent in charge asked as he followed you to the car.

"We were attacked by the man in the picture. He's dead, L-Pill from what it looked like." Leon explains as he opens the passenger side of the vehicle and places you gently on the seat. He straps you in and closed your door. "I will be sending the BSAA here to collect anything from the labs we found, your men are to stay posted until further orders are given to you." Leon says walking around to the drivers side and hops in. Before closing the door he stops and looks to the Sargent. "You and your men have done well."

With that he closed the door, starts the car and takes off towards the facilities. "Hang on, okay?" Leon says flicking a quick glance at you then resting a hand on your lap. You open your eyes and give him a weak smile, you could still feel the effects of whatever you had been injected with. Your limbs wouldn't move at your will and your chest felt like a child of 5 was sitting on it. "I'll be fine..." You say before you let your eyes close once again.

Hunnigan had contacted the hospital on the BSAA grounds, they probably thought you all couldn't handle yourselves or something. Two admitted within hours of each other? Very unlucky. They were waiting for his arrival, hopping out of the car he races around to unbuckle you and pull your limp body from the car. He didn't know when you had passed out, but you had been out since he asked if you were still with him 3 minutes ago.

He placed you on the stretcher and he gives the description as well as both the syringes he had acquired. Explaining one is for the lab and one if for if they need to use it on her, still not sure what was pulsing through your veins or taken host in your body yet. Standing alone in the hallway now Leon felt his legs finally go weak under him, the adrenaline leaving his body. Making his way towards Chris' room he walks in and flops down on the seat beside Chris' feet. He leans forwards, head in his hands as he rest his elbows on his knees. His friend and lover were in this hospital, far from home. Leon sits there, in the same position for about 10 minutes, it didn't feel like that long. Your form, limp in his arms and screams kept replaying in his minds eye and ears.

"What's wrong with you?" Croaked one Chris Redfield, having been watching Leon beside his feet for probably the passed 30 seconds.

Leon was startled from his thoughts, head lifting up to reveal red, wet eyes. Not realising himself that he had been crying. This however caused a tightness in Chris' chest and looked around the room for you, there was no way Leon would be crying over him. "Where's (Y/N)?" Chris asked. Looking directly at Leon who wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, leaning back in the chair he was in. Not daring to look at Chris. "Leon.."

"She was injected with some kind of virus or parasite." He explained. Chris just kept his eyes on Leon. "She... Is here now. Hopefully they can help her, but I don't know if they can or even will be able to find a cure in time."

"Don't say that..." Chris didn't want to believe it, but Leon was just preparing himself for the worst.

Silence sat between the two men for a while. Chris still feeling groggy from the after effects of the Plaga being in his system, Leon still going through all the possibilities of what was going to happen to you. Leon did, however, speak up after a while. Filling Chris in on what they had found, that a Plaga had in fact been inside of him, and the possible reasons for the attacks here. The man probably responsible was now dead, wanting to seemingly get revenge on you for destroying everything he had worked for. It seemed stupid, only to kill himself in the end, not knowing whether he had done any harm to you or not.

-----*4 Hours Later*-----

Chris had been taken off the vaccine for the Plaga, his bloods coming back to show he was completely cleared of the parasite. Nurses and doctors had been coming in to get him prepared for air lifting him home to the United States. That way he could heal on familiar ground. Leon was sitting off to the side on a couch along the wall, slouching back his arms were crossed over his chest. Chris was sitting up, watching Leon as his head would bob forwards, then back up as he tried to keep himself awake. Adjusting himself every so often and shaking his foot to try keeping himself awake.

A Doctor walks into the room causing Leon to become alert, thinking he had come in for Chris once again. He started to get comfortable before his name was called rather than Redfield's. Both of them perk up, Leon standing to his feet.

"Mr. Kennedy, could I talk to you outside for a moment?" The Doctor asked, the look in his eyes told Chris and Leon something was wrong.

"No, I want to hear what you have to say. I am close with her as well." Chris piped up, both Leon and the doctor looking to him.

The doctor inhales deeply and crossed his hands in front of his pelvis. "Alright." Looking down to the space between him and Leon he was silent for but a moment before speaking. "We did everything we could."

"No.. You're just.." Leon had a smirk, his head shaking. "You're playing a joke on me.. Right?" Leon lets out a nervous laugh, looking to Chris who had started to sit at the edge of his bed.

"I wish I were, Mr. Kennedy. She succumbed to the internal damage the initial injection had caused."

"I want to see her." Leon demands, he still didn't believe what this man was saying. Chris had made his way to stand beside Leon, a hand being placed on his shoulder, squeezing tight to try and ground the man in denial.

"I'm afraid we can't let you do that. Her body is currently in quarantine."

"I don't care! I want to see her!" Leon wasn't showing physical aggression towards the doctor, he knew he was only doing his job. Chris lowering his head as he placed his other hand on Leon's second shoulder.

"Leon, sit down." Chris starts to guide his friend backwards towards the lounge he was seated in before.

"I can't..!" Leon's words were cut off by a sob jerking his chest. "Oh god.." He flops onto the lounge when he felt it against his calves.

"I've got him. Will we be able to take her body home with us?" Chris asked, a hand rubbing at Leon's upper back as he once again leant forwards on his knees.

"Again, I don't know if that's possible. With her body still not confirmed contagious or not, we wouldn't be allowed to have her body travel with others present."

Chris gives a nod. "Thank you.."

"You will also be allowed to leave any time from now, Mr. Redfield."

Chris just gives another silent nod and the doctor stays for a few seconds longer, then turning and leaving the room to give them both privacy. "Leon?" Chris was gentle with his words, he knew the guilt he must be feeling right now. Chris had also lost so many people he cared about. But never had he lost his love.

Leon's face had flushed of all it's colour, sitting up and back against the couch Chris could now see he was in shock. As if on queue Hunnigan was calling in Leon's left ear. Chris saw his hand go to reach for his ear but let it drop back to his side. Removing the earpiece Chris places it in his own, answering the call.

"Leon! You haven't given me any updates for 4 hours now!" Hunnigan stressed on the other side of the line.

"This is Chris Redfield."

"Chris? Where is Leon and (Y/N)?"

Chris looks to Leon who was still pale, staring off into the distance, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Leon is here beside me. We just received news that (Y/N) died from internal injuries caused by the parasite." There was silence on the other side of the line, then the sound of frantic typing.

"Have either of you confirmed this with your own eyes?" She asked still typing away.

"No. Her body is in quarantine and they won't allow us to see her."

"What? That's not.." She goes silent, thinking for a moment. "Thank you, Chris. Send Leon home as soon as possible."

Chris frowned at this order, he wasn't even given time to grieve before being sent home for briefing. "Copy." Then the line goes dead. Removing the earpiece he placed it in Leon's hand. "She wants you to come home as soon as you can."

Leon only nods. He didn't even hear what Chris had said, his body had just gone into autopilot.

Part 1 | Pervious | Next

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders @luujjvi

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Master Chief drabble inspired by @bloodgulchblog and this post. John doesn't introspect often, but when he does, it's a bit like heartburn.

-

It's late when John heads back to Blue Team's quarters. Briefings, reports, responsibilities; all the things Team Leader is used to shouldering seem to weigh a little heavier these days. Bad news pours in from all sides and allies seem fewer and far between.

Restlessness is not a luxury he can usually afford, but aboard the Infinity is the closest he's felt to safe in a long time. It also still means he'll patrol if possible. Even among his team, John doesn't want to spend any extra time in small rooms, and there's always work to be done.

He's not alone as he travels silently down gunmetal gray halls, but by this time most of the crew is changing shifts or used to Spartans moving. John's aware of how they look at him; the IIs move differently than the IVs but to the techs on their way to the hangars he's just another 7ft tall, 350 lbs of muscle to stay out of the way of.

Funny how being out of the armor helps him stay invisible.

There's movement down an auxiliary hallway that catches his eye, but he dismisses it when he sees troopers huddled together, handing off contraband and the like. John pauses and notes the cameras, the vents, and the blindspots. Not amateurs then, though it's hard to tell these days. They all look so young.

His eyes catch flashes of packaging before it's shoved into pockets or down shirts and the group disperses. Tobacco gum, self-lighting cigarettes, and other nicotine sources disappear along with nondescript datachips and small flasks. They don't notice him - he would have lost his touch if they had - and the group splits off, nonchalance a little too forced.

He'd make a comment, spook em a bit while he's this nameless Spartan who caught them. Some old, ugly sonuvabitch with weird eyes, too many scars popping out of the shadows wasn't a fun encounter or so he'd been told.

At least he would have if he didn't freeze in place as someone lit up and the too familiar smell of a Sweet William cigar hit his nose for the first time in over five years.

The pungent odor - old boot-sock smoked over a dung-fire - hit him full force even if the marine smoking it was down the hall. It sat in his sinuses, and the scar on his chest hurt as he jerked away.

John had known several people to have smoked those cigars - most of them were dead now. And with his luck he was there when it happened.

There were a lot of memories tied up with that scent. Johnson, of course. He had always seemed to have them on him, always smoking so much John often considered commenting about him giving them away. It was a scent that was tied to the man's presence, be it in a dropship, on the ground, or stopping by to drop off a tank. The first time John himself had tried one of the cigar, he had been 15 years old and ended up coughing so hard from the first draw that he reopened his neck wound.

Johnson had showed him how to be a leader then.

Mendez had smoked them too, and Captain Keyes. Mendez had them in his desk in his office on Reach. Halsey hadn't liked them, and like with most things, she would make her opinions clear. But that had been a lifetime ago. John didn't like to dwell on how he became what he was today. It was necessary, but the reminders of the human elements, the smoke drawing up old memories, made him uncomfortable.

He'd lived his whole life around foul-mouthed, paranoid, contraband using marines and ODSTs. He had been honored to serve with those men and women. Tobacco was passed around as often as MREs no matter the campaign. It was familiar even after all this time.

Even Captain Keyes had his pipe, the lingering scent of tobacco on the bridge of the Autumn. Cigars weren't his main staple, but John had come to associate him among the men who smoked them.

It had been forever and only a few short months since he had been in the presence of a lit Sweet William.

His chest burns, something more than regrown skin over the burn scar. He leaves - as silently as he arrived. The crewman continues to enjoy his contraband, smoke rising into the vent above, going to be scrubbed and recycled back.

-

Thanks for reading! There's an updated and finished version of this fic here.