#Idk that was a whole chapter or my life that's gone now

[conspiracyravens]

Sometimes I miss the person I was before I discovered black eyeliner

[moreaujeans]

thinking of book binding my online history

[just-a-creep-babe]

What Makes You Tick - Chapter 1

(Ticci Toby x Reader)

Waah idk why I'm so nervous to post this part T~T 🖤🖤 I really hope you enjoy! And it would make me super happy if you lmk what you think!! 🖤🖤

Commissions are open!

Check out my ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

Masterlist: x

Prologue

Divider by @plum98

The scream is loud.

It’s shrill and abrasive, and it ends as quickly as it began—like the person’s breath was abruptly interrupted.

You bolt up. The sound awakens a deep, primal urge within you, and in a matter of seconds, you’re on high alert.

The fact that you’re home alone really only makes the whole situation that much worse.

You count the seconds ever so slowly ticking by. You don’t dare to move an inch. You just hold your breath, waiting, listening to the sound of your own heartbeat in your eardrums.

When you reach 100 and there isn’t another piercing scream, only then does your body recover from the freeze instinct. You move to the windows, try to see something—anything outside.

When nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, you nervously chew at your lip. Did you just imagine it? You don’t see anyone outside; no worried onlookers trying to find the source of the noise, no frantic person wandering the streets for help, nothing.

What are the chances only you would’ve heard it?

The scream replays itself in your head. It sounded like it could’ve come from your downstairs neighbor.

You’re probably the closest person in the vicinity, you realize. If they need help, you might be the only person who could assist them.

You grab your phone and rush out the door. Down the steps, you reach your neighbor’s door and offer three quick knocks against the wood.

You wait, nervously, anxiously, every second ticking by feeling much too long for comfort. When there’s no answer, you knock again. The memory of the scream rings in your ears again, and you feel your hands get sweaty with stress.

No one answers the door. You check your phone, calculate that at least seven minutes have gone by. Would it be appropriate to call the cops?

You open the phone app, then hesitate. Would they even take you seriously? You never once called the police in your life, and just thinking about it has you conjuring up a whole slew of ways it could go wrong.

You linger around the door for a few more minutes, then eventually give up and return up to your apartment. Your plan is to call your parents or roommate or maybe even your friend—anyone who might be able to advise you on what to do. But as soon as you reach your door, you get an eerie chill up your spine. Something isn’t right.

Your door is open.

It’s just a crack; barely even noticeable, and though you did leave in a rush, you’re fairly certain you didn’t leave the door open. It’s not something you would do.

You clutch your phone between tense fingers. Calling for help—even though it should be—is no longer on your mind. All you’re thinking about is who the fuck is in your home right now—and why.

It’s, again, like a fight, flight or freeze instinct kicking in. Except this time, your usual sense of self-preservation is overridden and you’re fully ready to fight.

You open the door, half expecting to see someone in the middle of your living room, but there’s no one there. Relief nearly washes over you, until you glance down and notice a trail of dirt leading deeper into your house.

Seeing it suddenly makes it all the more real.

There’s really someone here. There’s a stranger in your house.

As quietly as humanly possible, you follow along the trail. You’re so focused that your surroundings almost seem to melt away. When you see it; the silhouette of a person you don’t recognize, who doesn’t belong here, in your house, you act without second thought.

One hard hit to the back of the head is all it takes. The person crumples to the floor on impact. You gasp, the sound completely involuntary because holy shit—did that just happen?

Suddenly remembering your phone, you yank it up and dial 911.

The person seems to be knocked out cold, and as the line is ringing, you realize your hand hurts from hitting them so hard. A wave of fear tightens in your chest. Surely, you didn’t severely injure them, right? Surely, they’re just knocked out for a little while, and then they’ll wake up, and they’ll be fine, and you won’t get into any trouble, right?

It all counts as self-defense anyways, right?

Having never called the cops before, you don’t think much of the wait time. Your mind is so preoccupied with what you’ve done, with what’s happened in such a short amount of time, that you don’t even realize how long you’re waiting for.

But then you start to get nervous that the intruder will wake up. Or, worse, that they won’t wake up. The line is still ringing, and when you bring your phone down to check how long it’s been, you find that over five minutes have passed.

What the fuck is going on?

You can only stand to wait a few more minutes before you realize no one’s going to answer.

Maybe something’s down with the lines, or some other big emergency happened elsewhere and they don’t have the staff required to answer. Whatever it is, you’re on your own right now.

You hang up, tell yourself you’ll call back in a few minutes, and then you’re left staring at the knocked-out body of the intruder.

Judging by the shape and size of the figure, they seem to be male. They’re relatively tall and lean, with a square kind of build that tapers down at their hips. You can’t see their face, but they have thick, curly brown hair that reaches below their ears.

You should flip them over, you think. You should flip them over and take a picture of their face so that you have some kind of proof.

You kneel down, wrap your fingers around their form, and, as gently as you can so as to not wake them, you turn them over.

Your stomach drops at the sight. You can’t see their face since it’s hidden beneath orange-tilted goggles and some kind of mouthguard. But it’s what you see on their clothes that has you feeling light-headed.

Blood.

They’re covered in it.

It’s splattered along the front of their hoody, staining the fabric in a dark crimson color. You can’t tell if it’s theirs or someone else’s, and though all logic points to the former, you don’t even want to piece everything together.

You notice as well, now that they’re turned over, that they have a belt tied around their hips. And two blood-soaked axes are hanging from it.

You nearly scream, but the bile threatening to rise up your throat has you holding it all in. And you’re thankful for it, because god knows you don’t want them to wake up now.

If you weren’t high on adrenaline, you’re certain you’d be panicking—more so than you are now, at least. But it’s like your senses are heightened, and your thoughts are much clearer than they otherwise would be, and something inside you is forcing you to stay as calm as possible.

Secure them.

You need to find something to secure them before they wake up.

The best thing you can find on such short notice is a long-sleeved shirt you’d haphazardly left in the living room. You’d meant to put it away, but you hadn’t gotten to it yet—and you’ve never been so thankful for your laziness.

Your hands are shaking as you wrap the sleeves around the stranger’s wrists. You try to make it as tight as possible, and then you knot it over and over again until you’ve no more fabric left to tighten.

You’re grabbing your phone and dialing 911 again as soon as you can. But when you bring it up to your ear, the line doesn’t ring. You wait—fifteen seconds, thirty, a minute—expecting the ringing to start at any moment, but it doesn’t.

On the other end of the line, there’s just silence. Eerie, cold, dead silence. The ends of your hair stand at attention from the goosebumps rising on your skin. Something’s definitely not right.

Just as you’re about to hang up—static blares from your phone. It’s loud and unbearable and completely overpowering, like the sound is ringing inside your own head. It's impossible to think straight.

You scream, throwing your phone to stop the noise. But even with the phone away from your ears, it’s like the noise keeps echoing in your mind. All you can do is press your hands to your ears and squeeze your eyes shut and scream in agony.

It’s dizzying. It’s nauseating. You have no space to think, no space to do anything but clutch your ears and pray the noise will stop. It’s maddening.

You feel like you’re on the verge of passing out from the sheer pain and intensity of it all when, in an instant, it stops.

You don’t pull your hands away from your ears for a good few seconds afterward. Your heart is pumping loudly in your chest. Your jaw hurts from grinding your teeth. Every muscle in your body feels sore from overexertion.

What just happened—are you losing your mind?

Slowly, you hesitantly let go of your head and open your eyes.

He’s awake.

You don’t know if it was your screaming that woke him up—all you know is that he’s conscious, and he's sitting upright and looking at you.

A mix of emotions wash over you at once. You’re relieved he’s alive, confused as to what the hell just happened—and most of all—you’re fucking nauseous with fear.

Fear regarding the source of that noise, but also regarding the fact that there’s a stranger in your house, covered in blood, and the cops aren’t answering. There’s something wrong with your phone, you're home alone, and your neighbor might be bleeding out beneath the floor under your feet. And there's a stranger restrained in your house and you have no idea what the fuck to do.

The worst part is that the person—that man—looks like he's completely calm and at ease. Like he's in total control of the situation.

The nausea worsens, butterflies making you utterly sick to your stomach. It almost feels like you're the one restrained, not him.

You don’t know what to do with yourself.

You stare at him, and he stares back. Or, at least, you think he does; it’s hard to tell beneath his colored lenses.

Your gaze flickers to the hatchets, still secured around his waist. You kick yourself for not taking them off of him. And then you look at your phone, which you threw halfway between you and him, and you swallow back the lump in your throat.

When you look back at him, you notice that he’d followed your gaze to also look at your phone. He looks back at you, tilts his head, and your stomach twists in knots.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

You feel like you’ve accidentally trapped some kind of predatory animal in your apartment. It feels like, at any moment, if you make the wrong move, he’ll lunge at you and rip your throat out.

Never once breaking eye contact, you slowly creep forward to reach your phone.

He doesn’t say a single word as you move, which makes it all the worse. He merely watches you, curiously, like you're one of the most fascinating things he's ever seen.

When you finally reach your phone, you pick it up, open it, and dial 911 again.

You’re hesitant to press it to your ears. You don’t know what kind of malfunction happened earlier, but you’re not too keen on repeating the experience. You hold it at somewhat of a distance, just in case.

It doesn’t ring.

Just like earlier, all that comes through the line is dead silence. You wait maybe a minute before, out of fear of the static interrupting again, you close the line.

You try not to let your panic show through, because you can feel the stranger eyeing your every move. You dial your roommate’s number, but it’s the same problem.

With unsteady hands, you text your parents that you need help contacting 911. Although they don’t live close to you anymore, they’re usually the fastest to answer your texts. And you need help fast.

When they don’t answer, you text your roommate and friends the same thing. Surely, at least one of them is bound to see the text and help you—right?

“You can—you can try all you want. You won’t be able to reach anyone, a-anyways.”

Your blood freezes.

It takes you a second to register his words, and another to react.

“What… what do you mean?” you ask, though the words make your tongue go numb, as if your body’s warning you that just talking to him is a bad idea.

“He’s watching.”

In the culmination of your entire lifetime, you don’t recall having ever felt such pure, tangible fear.

The feeling is similar to that sensation you get when you’re at the peak of a nightmare—when you’re just about to come face-to-face with the monster, or when you’re about to reach the ground after falling from a great height—when you’re just about to die and it all feels so real.

But this moment feels surreal.

“Who’s watching?”

There’s more conviction in your voice than you feel in your entire system. You don’t know how you manage to sound so calm, so self-assured and in control of the situation, but it’s certainly not how you feel on the inside.

“He is. The one who’s—“ he cracks his neck abruptly to the side, interrupting his own sentence before finishing, “always watching.”

Another chill up your spine, though you manage to mask it fairly well, all things considered.

“Don’t—don’t worry. The police will be here—here—they’ll be here soon. Maybe 15, 20 minutes?”

You don’t know whether you should be relieved or unnerved by his reassurance.

“How… do you know that?” you ask hesitantly.

He shrugs, the movement entirely too comfortable, entirely too nonchalant.

“S-s’almost always the same.”

You want out. You want out of this conversation, out of this whole situation. You want him out of your house.

“What do you mean?” you ask, “How many times have you done this?”

You don’t know if you want the answer to your own question. In all honesty, you don’t even want to consider what the “this” in your question even refers to.

But it’s out of your mouth before you can even stop yourself.

He tilts his head, like he’s considering it. And then, after a few seconds, he shrugs again.

“Lost count.”

You don’t like his answer.

15-20 minutes, you think. There’s a chance he's lying to put you at ease, to prevent you from calling again.

But there’s a chance he’s right.

There’s a chance a neighbor heard, or your friends or family saw the text and are getting help. Either way, you realize that you have time to burn. You need to stay calm, focused.

He doesn’t seem agitated, which you take to be a good thing. He doesn’t seem frustrated or angry or unstable. If anything, it’s like he’s open to talking.

What more could you ask for?

You rack your brain for the best course of action. But you’re at a loss. You’re panicking on the inside.

You realize that one of the best things you could probably do is keep him preoccupied, keep him distracted.

“…How old are you?”

You don’t know why that, of all things, is the first question to come to mind. But it seems like a safe enough bet; it’s not too personal so as to upset him, and yet it might help narrow his identity or motivations down.

If only you’d had the chance to remove his mask and snap a pic of his face before he woke up.

You don’t expect him to take as long to answer as he does. He tilts his head again, looks up like he’s trying to calculate something in his head.

And then his answer sends another wave of unease through your system.

“Lost count,” he admits, repeating his previous answer.

You don’t know what that means, what it entails, but you don't even want to know either, at this point.

You rack your brain for another question, something light and easy to keep him talking, when he suddenly jerks his shoulder in a way that doesn’t look entirely voluntary.

You pause.

Did he... did he consume something?

It would explain a few things, though not everything.

He seems coherent enough to hold a conversation, but it’s not like he’s making the most sense. And, at the very least, blaming the strangeness of this whole situation on something simple would make you feel better.

To test out your theory, you ask him outright, “Why are you here? Do you know where you are?”

He looks around, like he’s only now noticing he’s in your apartment.

“This the—the—the upstairs unit? Your place?”

You nod, slowly, but even as you do, you’re not sure you want him to know that. And then you also don’t want to know the answer to the next question, but you need to ask.

“What happened?”

Nothing could’ve prepared you for his response. The way he states it too—so simply, so obviously, like it was as normal as going for groceries—makes you completely sick to your stomach.

And the magnitude of the situation fully crashes down on you when he answers.

“I killed her.”

[satorulovebot]

CURSED SEAS CHAPTER ONE | the rouge captain

pairing — gojou satoru x fem!reader

genre —heavy angst, pirate au, 18+ 

summary — all your life you’ve been taught to hate pirates and the sins they have committed against god. you've always strived to be a good citizen upholding the law and avoiding the lawless, but when you meet the infamous captain gojou, known to be dangerous and cunning, you realize that survival in this world often requires sacrifices. sometimes, that sacrifice is your sanity.

tags/warnings. alcohol, religious themes, death, themes of depression, and criminal activity, it's a pretty tame chapter tbh.

notes. 6.2k wc. yeah we’re back baby with another series because i can’t sit still. i saw fan art (image 1) and (image 2) of pirate gojo and said yk what i’m gonna do a pirates of the caribbean inspired series. idk enjoy some brain rot. also know just like my introductory paragraphs my first chapters are ass and fast-paced.

next. HELP WANTED!

general masterlist -> series masterlist

Captain Satoru Gojou.

You had heard whispers of the infamous Captain Gojou for years. His name was spoken with fear in every port town along the coast. Some say he is invincible, that his ship, the Infinity, is the fastest to ever sail the seas. Others claimed he was dangerous, ruthless, and cunning—a man who showed no mercy to those he deemed too weak to survive in his world.

A few years back, a body washed up on the shore of Saltstone Port. The man, who was no older than twenty-five, had his eyes gouged out of his skull, and the number six was carved into the pale skin of his back. 

The discovery shocked the quiet little town, but it would not be the last time a mutilated body washed up on the shores of Saltstone Port.

You don’t miss the stagnant air at Saltstone Port. The salty breeze, tinged with the scent of rotting fish and seaweed, clung to everything it touched. It was a place where tales of Captain Gojou’s cruelty were whispered in darkened alleys and over dimly lit tavern tables, the memory of that unfortunate soul with the number six forever haunting the minds of those who dared to speak of it.

As you stood at the edge of the small dock in Elysport, you stared out at the vast ocean. You had always wondered if there was something more beyond the horizon at Saltsone and Elysport. You had only moved to Elysport in the last few years; your father claimed that it was God’s will for you to move after the death of your beloved mother.

You were just ten years old when your mother vanished without a trace, disappearing one night after her shift at the tavern. It was as if the earth had swallowed her whole, leaving no sign of where she had gone or what might have happened. The days that followed were a blur of confusion and fear, the house feeling emptier than ever without her warm presence.

Your father was a broken man during the weeks your mother was missing. Each night, he would fall to his knees, clasping his hands in desperate prayer. His voice, once strong and filled with faith, now trembled as he pleaded with whatever higher power might be listening to bring his beloved wife back to him and his young daughter. He prayed until his voice was hoarse, until tears stained his cheeks until the candles had burned down to their wicks. He sought solace in his faith, but with each passing day, the weight of uncertainty grew heavier, casting a shadow over your home.

He searched tirelessly for answers, combing the streets and questioning anyone who might have seen her. But no matter how hard he looked or how many prayers he whispered, the silence was deafening. Your mother, the heart of your small family, had simply vanished, leaving behind only questions and a growing sense of dread.

Nine agonizing weeks later, your mother’s body was discovered in a small, rotting, long-abandoned boat that had been stranded on the beach for years. You only caught a brief, heart-wrenching glimpse of her before the smallfolk, who had loved her dearly, carried her away. The once beautiful features of her face had decayed beyond recognition, maggots crawling across what little flesh remained.

Your father was utterly broken by the loss. He couldn’t understand why God would allow such cruelty to befall his family. The woman he had vowed to cherish and grow old with was gone, leaving him consumed by grief and bitterness. He became distant, his once-steady faith shaken to its core. He could not understand who would do this to his wife—a kind-hearted tavern worker known for offering a warm meal to anyone in need. The only conclusion that made sense to him was that pirates were to blame. In his mind, they were the only people capable of such barbarism, convinced that only they would commit such a gruesome act against the mother of his child.

Your father has always been a devout Christian. He was a pastor at the local church when you lived in Saltstone Port. His sermons were filled with messages of mercy and compassion. He always insisted that no one was beyond salvation, preaching that even pirates can be redeemed in the eyes of God.

But after your mother’s death, everything changed. His grief and anger warped his perspective, changing his view of life and love. The man who once preached forgiveness now called for the public execution of pirates, believing their crimes deserved the worst punishment hell could offer. An obsession now consumed him—a kind man who once spoke of compassion whose life was forever darkened by the loss of the woman he loved.

You now found yourself in Elysport, a bustling coastal city where the line between law and lawlessness begins to blur. The city's horizon is filled with the estates of wealthy merchants and the Governor’s home, a stark contrast to the docks below. The docks are always crowded, constantly filled with ships from all around the world, their sails billowing in the wind as they unload goods from distant lands. The scent of exotic spices and the sounds of vibrant marketplaces fill the air, mingling with the salty tang of the nearby sea.

In Elysport, you worked as a clerk for a small merchant. Your days were spent tallying registries, managing shipments, and handling mundane trade details. But your nights were different. They were filled with dreams of adventure, of sailing beyond the horizon where the sea meets the sky. Stories of legendary pirates and hidden treasures had always fascinated you, sparking a curiosity you kept hidden behind your daily life. Yet, you never imagined that those stories might come crashing into your own life one day.

One evening, as you were closing up shop, an old man stumbled into the store. His appearance was startling, to say the least—his clothes were tattered, his face weathered, and his hair a tangled mess. 

“Hello? Can I help you?” you called out from behind the counter, your voice slightly muffled by the shelves that obstructed you from view.

The man didn’t answer your question. Instead, his gaze darted around the shop, as if he was searching for anything suspicious that could get him in trouble. 

“You there!” he rasped, his voice rough. “I need a place to hide this.”

Your curiosity piqued at his words, you stepped out from behind the counter and faced the strange man who had entered just before closing. You assumed he was another last-minute customer, probably looking to buy something or bargain for a better price, knowing how tired workers down by the docks could be at this hour. 

You were curious but hesitant as you took the box from him. To your surprise, It was heavy for its size. The surface was adorned with intricate carvings, worn in places over time.

“What is this?” you asked, turning the box over to examine it more closely. The craftsmanship was remarkable, but there was something about it—something almost sinister.

The man watched you closely, his eyes never leaving your face. "It’s a map.” he said, "But not just any map. This map leads to something... powerful. Something that has been lost for centuries, tales of it told through generations of pirates, hidden away from those who would abuse its power."

You looked up at him, eyes wide and filled with curiosity. Why are you giving this to me?" you asked again, your voice trembling.

The man’s expression softened, a look of something almost like pity crossing his face. "Because you’re the one meant to find it," he said simply. "You’re the one who has been chosen."

"Chosen?" you whispered. "Chosen by whom? For what?"

The man smiled faintly, but there was a sadness in his eyes that made you uneasy. "You’ll understand in time," he said. "But know this: you must keep the map safe. Others would do anything to get their hands on it—dangerous people who won’t hesitate to kill for it."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You had always dreamed of sailing the seas looking for adeventure, but this... this… this was something else entirely. This was real, and it was dangerous.

You stared at him blankly, your mind racing as you tried to process the words the strange man had been saying. This was no ordinary treasure map. This was something that was hidden away for a reason.

"Why me?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Why would you trust me with something like this?"

The man’s eyes softened again, and he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. "Because you’re different," he said quietly. "You have a strength in you that others don’t. You have a heart that won’t be easily swayed by greed or power. And most importantly... you have a destiny to fulfill."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning that you couldn’t fully grasp. You wanted to ask the strange man more, to demand answers to the questions swirling in your mind, but something in the man’s eyes told you that he had already said all he could.

"Keep the map safe," he repeated, his voice firm. "And trust your instincts."

Before you could say anything else, the man turned and walked out the door, disappearing into the darkness of the night. You stood there for a pregnant moment, the map clutched in your hands, your mind reeling from everything that had just happened.

You looked down at the map again, the tips of your fingers trace the markings, as if trying to unlock the secrets they hold. This was it. This was what you had always dreamed of, but it was also something far more dangerous, something that could get you killed.

You knew you couldn’t do this alone. You needed help, and there was only one place you could think of where you might find it.

The merchant’s ball.

It was an event you had never been invited to before—a grand affair where the city’s most powerful and influential figures gathered. But now, with the map, you knew you had to find a way in. You needed to find someone who could help you decipher it, someone who had the knowledge and connections to help you.

As the night of the ball approached, you found yourself growing more and more restless with each passing day. The very idea of the map’s existence gnawed at the back of your mind, its mysteries out of reach. The old man’s warning lingered in your mind, too—a treasure beyond your wildest dreams, but cursed. It was a puzzle you couldn’t solve on your own, and it only fueled your determination to get an invitation to the Merchant’s Ball.

But getting an invitation was easier said than done. The ball was exclusive, and the guest list was closely guarded. You knew you couldn’t simply walk in off the street, no matter how determined you were. You needed connections, and though you had some, they were weak connections at best. Your mind raced as you considered your options, running through the names of merchants and traders you had helped over the years. Some owed you favors, but whether those favors were enough to get you into the ball was another matter entirely.

You decided to start with a merchant you knew well—a grizzly man named Marcus, who had been in Elysport for decades. You had helped him with his inventory more than once, making sure that certain shipments went unnoticed by the authorities, and he had always been grateful for your help. You found him in his usual place, a small tavern near the docks.

“Marcus!” you greeted him with a smile as you approached his table.

He looked up, his weathered face breaking into a grin. “Ah, it’s you. Come to save me from my spending again?”

“Not this time,” you replied, taking a seat across from him. “I need a favor.”

His smile faded slightly, and he set down his flagon of ale. “A favor, eh? What kind of favor?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I need an invitation to the Merchant’s Ball.”

Marcus leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows raised. “The ball? That’s a big favor, lass. Those invitations are hard to come by.”

“I know,” you admitted. “But I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face. “What’s this about? You’re not one for fancy parties.”

You looked around the tavern, ensuring no one was listening, then leaned in closer. “I’ve come across something… valuable. But I need help deciphering it. The ball is my best chance to find someone who can.”

Marcus’s expression turned serious. “Something valuable, you say? What kind of valuable?”

“I can’t say too much,” you said, lowering your voice. “But it’s big, Marcus. If I can figure it out, it could change everything.”

He was silent for a moment, considering your words. Finally, he nodded. “All right. I can get you in. But you’ll owe me for this, understand?”

You nodded, a smile present on your face. “Thank you, Marcus. I won’t forget it.”

True to his word, Marcus got you an invitation, and the day of the ball soon arrived. You spent hours preparing, trying to calm the nervous flutter in your stomach. The dress you chose was simple yet elegant, a deep blue silk that flowed like water as you moved. You had never worn anything so fine before, and as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you barely recognized the woman staring back at you. But tonight wasn’t about appearances—it was about seizing an opportunity, about finding answers to the questions that had been plaguing your mind since that fateful night in the shop.

When the carriage finally arrived to take you to the Governor’s Palace, you felt a mixture of excitement and fear. The city seemed more alive than usual as you made your way through the cobblestone streets, the sounds of laughter and music drifting on the night air. As the palace came into view, its tall columns were bathed in the warm glow of hundreds of lanterns. The grandeur of it all was overwhelming and it was a far cry from the rough and weathered streets of Elysport that you were used to.

You clutched your invitation tight as you approached the entrance, the doorman barely glancing at it before stepping aside to let you pass. The moment you stepped inside, you were encompassed in a world of luxury, unlike anything you had ever seen. The foyer was vast with marble floors gleaming under the light of large crystal chandeliers. Ornate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of grand battles and lavish feasts. Servants moved about with precision, carrying trays of champagne and delicate hors d'oeuvres, while the guests—dressed in their finest silks and satins—murmuring amongst themselves, their laughter filling the air.

You followed the flow of people into the main ballroom, your heart pounding as you took in the sight before you. The room was massive, with tall, arched windows that offered a view of the moonlit gardens outside. The walls were painted in rich, warm tones, and the floor was a mosaic of polished marble that reflected the golden light of the chandeliers. Musicians played soft melodies in one corner, their music blending in seamlessly with the murmur of conversation.

For a moment, you hesitated, feeling out of place. You had never been in a setting like this, surrounded by wealth and power. But you squared your shoulders, reminding yourself of the reason you were here. You weren’t just a simple clerk from the docks anymore; tonight, you were a woman with a purpose, a secret map, and a mission.

The ballroom was extravagant, to say the least. It made you feel sick that only a select few could enjoy things like this without worrying when their next meal would be or if they would be able to afford basic necessities. But were you any better than these people? After all the only reason you’re here is because you have good connections, just like the people in this room.

As you look to your left, you notice the couples dancing around the floor, their conversations blending in with the soft music. It was all very odd, like a dream you didn't want to wake up from.

“Enjoying the festivities?” A smooth and confident voice interrupted your thoughts. You turned to see a tall figure standing just a few feet away, his face obscured by a mask similar to yours.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, though you couldn’t quite figure out why. There was something about him, something unsettling in the way he carried himself, in the way he seemed to command the space around him. His mask was pale, almost ghostly, with intricate blue patterns that drew your gaze.

“I suppose,” you replied, keeping your voice light, though the unease you felt was seeping into your words. “These sorts of events are always a bit... overwhelming.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and smooth, “Yes, they can be,” he agreed, taking a step closer, his eyes—bright and unnervingly blue—locked onto yours through the slits in his mask. “But they can also be... enlightening if you know where to look.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, your mind racing as you tried to understand his words. Was he just making conversation, or was there something more to his statement? You couldn’t tell, and that made you more on edge.

“Is that so?” you asked, forcing a smile as you took another sip of your champagne, trying to calm your nerves.

He nodded, his gaze never wavering. “Indeed. You’d be surprised what you can learn at a gathering like this, especially if you keep your eyes and ears open.”

There was something in the tone of his voice, something that made you think he wasn’t just talking about useless gossip or civil conversation, at something deeper, something more dangerous, and it set you on edge.

The two of you sat in silence for a brief moment.

“Do you come to these kinds of events often?” you asked, trying to change the topic of conversation, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that this man was anything but safe.

“From time to time,” he said with a shrug. “But tonight is special. Tonight, I’m here for something—someone—quite specific.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt a chill run down your spine. It was the way he said it, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through you like daggers, it was as if he knew exactly who you were and what you were here for.

But, that was impossible, you thought to yourself. You were just a clerk, a regular person caught up in something far beyond your understanding. There was no way he could know about the map, about the treasure. No one knew. No one except—

“Do I know you?” you asked, the question slipping out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

His smile widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps,” he said vaguely, his voice a low murmur that sent another shiver down your spine. “Or perhaps you’ll get to know me soon enough.”

Before you could respond, before you could even process his words, the doors to the ballroom burst open with a deafening boom. The music stopped abruptly, the room falling into shocked silence as everyone turned to see what happened.

A group of masked men stormed into the room, their swords drawn as they advanced on the crowd. Panic erupted, the guests screaming and scrambling to get away as the intruders began tearing through the ballroom, overturning tables, smashing glass, and sending the wealthy world of the Elysport elite into chaos.

You barely had time to react before you felt the man’s hand on your arm, pulling you toward the nearest exit. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable beneath the mask as he guided you through the panicked crowd, dodging the chaos that surrounded you.

“Stay close,” he ordered, his voice calm despite the madness. “We’re not done yet.”

And with that, you were swept away into the night, the sound of the destruction behind you fading as the mysterious man led you away from the scene, leaving you to wonder who he really was—and what he wanted with you.

The cool night air hit your face as you were pulled out of the grand ballroom and into the dimly lit streets of Elysport. The contrast between the noise and chaos of the ball and the quiet moonlit streets was jarring. You were still reeling from the events that had unfolded, your heart pounding in your chest, and your mind racing with questions.

The man holding your hand was strong, his grip firm but not painful, leading you through the labyrinth of narrow alleyways that twisted and turned through the dark city like a maze. The commotion of the party faded into the background, replaced by the distant sounds of the sea and the occasional creak of a ship down at the docks. The city was alive with the whispers of its nightlife, but you felt completely alone, alone with this stranger who seemed to know everything about you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he slowed his pace and came to a stop in a small and secluded courtyard. The stone walls of the surrounding buildings loom above you and the walls cast deep shadows that obscured your surroundings. The man released your hand, leaving you standing in the center of the courtyard.

As you took a moment to catch your breath, thoughts reeled through your mind. Who was this man? What did he want with you? And why had he chosen to rescue you from the ball? You looked around, trying to get a sense of where you were, but the courtyard was unfamiliar, and the darkness made it almost impossible to see anything.

Before you could gather your thoughts, the man stepped forward again, more calculated and more predatory. His movements were fluid as if he were completely at ease in the darkness. He reached up, and with a swift motion, removed the mask that had concealed his face.

You gasped, taking a step back as the light of the moon revealed his features. The man standing before you was impossibly handsome, his striking blue eyes piercing through the shadows with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. His white hair, which had been partially hidden beneath the mask, now fell loosely around his face, giving him an almost ethereal appearance. But it was the look in his eyes that truly unsettled you—as if he could see right through you.

"You're a difficult person to track down," he said, his voice smooth and confident, with a hint of amusement.

You took another step back, your mind racing. "Who are you?" you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady.

He tilted his head slightly, a small, almost playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Who I am isn't important," he replied his tone light, almost amused. "What matters is what I know."

A chill ran down your spine at his words. You felt like a cornered animal, trapped with no way out. "W-what do you want from me?" you stuttered, trying to keep the fear out of your voice.

His smile widened slightly, but his eyes remained cold and calculating. "You know what I want," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You have something that belongs to me."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your thoughts immediately jumped to the map. How did he know about that? The old man had warned you that it was cursed, that it would bring you nothing but trouble, but you didn't think it would be anything like this.

The man's smile faded, and his expression grew more serious. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. "Don't play games with me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "I know you have the map. And I know you've been looking into it."

"I don't have it," you insisted. "I got rid of it."

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing you. "Is that so?" he took a step forward, "Because from what I've heard, you've been asking around about certain landmarks. Places that just so happen to match the ones on the map."

Your heart sank. He knew too much. There was no point in lying anymore. But you couldn't just hand the map over to him—not without knowing who he was and what he planned to do with it.

"Why do you want it?" you asked, trying to buy yourself some time. "What's so important about this treasure?"

The man studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "That's none of your concern," he said finally, his tone dismissive. "All you need to know is that it's mine. And I intend to get it back."

"And if I don't give it to you?" you challenged.

He smiled again, but this time there was no warmth in it. "Then I'll take it from you," he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You stared at him, trying to gauge his intentions. There was something about him—something dangerous and unpredictable—that made you believe he wasn't bluffing. But at the same time, you couldn't just give up the map. Not without knowing what it was all about, and what it could lead to.

"I need more time," you said finally, hoping to stall him. "Let me think about it."

The man studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he nodded. "Very well," he said. "But don't take too long. I'm not a patient man."

He turned to leave, but then paused mid-way, glancing back at you over his shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing," he added, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Don't try to run. I'll find you. No matter where you go."

With that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone in the courtyard. You stood there for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Who was this man? How did he know so much about you? And what was he planning to do with the map?

You knew you had to be careful. Whatever this treasure was, it was clearly important enough for someone like him to go to great lengths to get it. But at the same time, you couldn't just hand it over without knowing more. You had to find out what this was about—before it was too late.

You quickly made your way back to your small house, your mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. You weren't going to let anyone intimidate you—not even someone as dangerous as him.

As you reached your door, you paused, glancing around nervously. The man's warning echoed in your mind—he would find you, no matter where you went. But you couldn't let that stop you. You had to find out the truth, no matter the cost.

With a deep breath, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. The map was hidden in a small, secret compartment in the floorboards—a place you thought no one would think to look. You retrieved it, carefully unfolding the worn parchment and studying the markings on it.

You had to figure out what this map was leading to, and why it was so important. As you stared at the map, a new plan began to form in your mind. You would find someone new who could help you decipher it—someone who knew the legends of the sea better than anyone else. And then, you would find the treasure before anyone else could.

But even as you made your plans, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched. The man's piercing blue eyes seemed to haunt your every thought, his warning lingering in the back of your mind.

You knew you were playing a dangerous game. But you had no choice.

And so, with the map clutched tightly in your hands, you made your decision. You would find the treasure—no matter what it took.

The city was bustling when you stepped out onto the streets, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone road. You knew where you needed to go—there was a tavern on the edge of the city, where sailors and pirates would gather to share stories. It was a risky move, venturing into such a place, but you were running out of options.

As you made your way through the streets, you kept an eye out for any sign of the man from the night before. You couldn’t afford to be caught off guard again.

Finally, you reached the tavern, it was a weathered building with a creaky old sign hanging above the door. The scent of salt and ale greeted you as you stepped inside, the dimly lit interior filled with the low hum of conversation. You spotted a few rough-looking sailors at the bar, their eyes looking toward you with curiosity as you made your way to a secluded corner.

You ordered a drink as you tried to blend in, waiting for the right moment. You needed to be careful about who you approached—trust was a rare occurrence in a place like this.

As the minutes ticked by, you watched the patrons of the tavern by studying their movements and listening to parts of their conversations. You were looking for someone who seemed knowledgeable, someone who might have heard of the map or the treasure it led to.

Finally, your patience was rewarded. An old sailor whose face had been weathered by years at sea, sat down at the table next to yours. He wore a tattered grey coat and a wide-brimmed hat. He seemed like the kind of man who had seen his fair share of the world, the kind of man who might know more than he let on.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage, and leaned toward him. "Excuse me," you said quietly, your voice steady. "I was wondering if you might be able to help me with something."

The sailor turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. "Depends on what you’re asking.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal to the man before you. But you had to take a chance. "I’m looking for information about a map," choosing your words with care. "A map that leads to a treasure. But I don’t know where to start."

The sailor’s eyes flickered with a hint of interest, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "A treasure map, you say?" he repeated, leaning back in his chair. "Well, now, that’s a dangerous thing to be looking for, especially in a place like this."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "I know it’s risky," you admitted. "But I need to find out what this map leads to. And I was hoping you might know something about it."

The sailor stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving yours. "There’s a lot of talk about treasures and maps in these parts," he said slowly. "Most of it’s just nonsense, stories made up to entertain drunk sailors. But every now and then, you hear about something real—something worth risking your life for."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "If you’ve got a map, and it’s real, you’d better be careful who you share it with. There are people out there who would do anything to get their hands on a treasure like that."

You swallowed hard with the weight of his words sinking in. "I understand," you said quietly. "That’s why I’m being careful. But I need to know more about what I’m dealing with."

The sailor nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. "Alright," he said finally. "I’ll tell you what I know. But it won’t come cheap."

You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small pouch of coins. It wasn’t much, but it was all you had. "Will this be enough?" you asked, hoping it would suffice.

The sailor took the pouch, weighing it in his hand before nodding in approval. "It’ll do," he said, tucking the pouch into his coat. "Now, let me see that map of yours."

You hesitated for a moment before reaching into your bag and pulling out the map. You unfolded it carefully, laying it out on the table between you. The sailor leaned over, his eyes scanning the markings and symbols.

After a few moments, he let out a low whistle. "Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "This is the real deal."

You leaned forward eagerly, your heart racing. "What does it say?"

The sailor glanced up at you, his expression serious. "This map," he said slowly, "leads to a place that’s been whispered about for generations. A place where a great pirate captain supposedly buried his most valuable treasures. But it’s not just gold and jewels we’re talking about. There are stories of powerful artifacts."

"But it’s not going to be easy," the sailor continued. "The path to that treasure is full of danger. There are traps, curses, and worse things that guard it. And if you’re not careful, you’ll end up just like the others who’ve tried and failed to find it."

You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. "What do you mean, 'the others'?" your voice barely above a whisper.

The sailor’s expression darkened. "There have been others before you," he said quietly. "People who thought they could outsmart the dangers and claim the treasure for themselves. But none of them ever made it back. Their ships were found wrecked, their crews dead or missing. And those who survived were driven mad by what they found."

You swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "So, what do I do?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

The sailor looked at you for a long moment before speaking. "If you’re serious about this, you’ll need to prepare yourself," he said. "Find a crew you can trust, people who know how to handle themselves in a fight. And most importantly, keep that map close. There are others who would kill to get their hands on it."

You nodded, "I’ll do whatever it takes."

The sailor nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that," he said. "Just be careful. This world is full of dangers, and not all of them are as obvious as a pirate’s blade."

With that, he stood up, tipping his hat to you before turning to leave. "Good luck, lass," he said over his shoulder. "You’re going to need it."

You watched him go, your mind racing with everything he had told you. The treasure was real, and it was more dangerous than you could have ever imagined. But you were determined to find it, no matter what it took.

You took the map and carefully folded it and tucked it back into your bag. With a deep breath, you stood up and left the tavern, your heart pounding in your chest. You had a lot of work to do, and there was no time to waste.

As you walked back through the city streets, the weight of the map seemed heavier than ever. You knew you were about to embark on a journey that would change your life forever, one that would test your courage, your resolve, and your very soul.

But despite the fear that lingered in the back of your mind, there was also a sense of excitement—a thrill at the thought of uncovering something that had been hidden away for centuries that not even the best pirates could find.

You had the map and you had the determination, now all you needed was the right people. And once you had that, there would be nothing stopping you from finding the treasure and claiming it for yourself.

The night was still young as you made your way back to your small home. You were ready to face whatever challenges came your way, to risk everything for the chance to uncover the secrets of the map.

And as you reached your door, the words of the mysterious man from the ball echoed in your mind: "I’ll find you, no matter where you go."

You knew he was out there, watching, waiting for the right moment to strike. But you weren’t afraid. You were ready for whatever came next.

series masterlist -> chapter 2

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

ANOTHER CHAPTER ALREADY?!

I mean

I dunno what happened

It kinda wrote itself, I had no real hand in this

Please consult with my muses on the subject, I didn't know they were this cracked out tonight

Anyway awaaaay we gggoooooooooo

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x AFAB!Marine!Reader

Ch. 7 of something there's gonna be at least two more chapters

First Chapter link Previous Chapter link

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. He's discovered your secret, and your life hangs in the balance of his mercy.

Possible !!Trigger Warnings!! in this chapter!! Largely for imprisonment and psychological turmoil, though not necessarily psychological torture yet. I will say, for readers who are used to my writing characters with a relatively gentle depiction, I likely won't be taking quite as gentle of an approach here. There is some Yandere possessiveness prevalent here that I haven't written much before.

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count: 3,095

Taglist: @i-am-vita @browneyedhufflepuff @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @littleleelee @nerium-lil @schanwow @dragon-bubs @animefreak818

I'm happy to add anyone that asks. Still flabbergasted that the list is this long.

I forgot to do a music thing last time bc I was so sleepy but I'mma do one this time but IT'S NOT FRATELLIS?? WHO IS EVEN RUNNING THIS BLOG?? SHOULD YOU CALL THE AUTHORITIES??

♫♬The Game- Disturbed♬♫

Tell me, exactly what am I supposed to do, now that I've allowed you to beat me?

Do you think that we could play another game? Maybe I could win this time

Dead, you were dead, he was going to kill you, and all he would have to do to get the job done would be to leave your right there in the shallows and let the tide slowly wash in until you were submerged, drained of strength and helpless.

To tighten his powerful grip around your neck until you ceased gasping for air.

To pull the golden cross from around his neck and plunge the small knife hidden within it into your torso, drag the sharp blade across your neck, watch the light leave your eyes.

So many ways he could kill you, in this very moment.

And yet his hand moved up your neck slowly, his grip unwavering as his fingers wrapped around your jaw instead. He tilted his head the slightest bit as he turned your head to one side, taking in your features with an air of both amusement and vague interest.

“And you were doing so well,” he said lightly, letting out a small sigh as he shook his head. You flinched as the rough pad of his thumb brushed across your cheek. “If you could have just refrained from making that silly little call to your boss last night—aw,” he added, an edge of mockery in his quiet words. “Did you think I was sound asleep the whole time? Poor thing.”

It hadn’t appeared as if he had done more than shift from his back to his side in the time you were gone last night—there had been absolutely no sign that he had gotten out of bed, not a single sound outside the cracked door of the study.

You should have known better.

“Though I must say, I do appreciate the vote of confidence.” Mihawk stood in a swift motion, tightening his grip around your jaw to pull you up with him, drawing a sharp gasp of alarm from you as your feet lifted a few inches from the ground. Still drenched in seawater, you didn’t even have the strength to lift your arms, held up only by his grasp, limp as a ragdoll. “‘No weaknesses.’ I’m almost flattered.”

You swallowed as he brought you closer, lifting his eyebrows a bit, the corner of his mouth curving the smallest bit into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Provided it wasn’t a lie. You have quite the penchant for fooling others, it seems.” He quirked his brow a bit higher, his eyes darting up and down your limp form before settling back on yours. “Well? Was it a lie?”

“Mm—n-no,” you managed to choke out weakly, your eyes wincing and beginning to burn as his fingertips dug harder into your jaw and cheeks. “No…”

“No?” he repeated lightly. “Now, I’m sure you can do better than that, considering how polite you were with your employer last night. And I’m afraid it’s not them you’re answering to anymore. Try again.”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes flickering down toward his hand. “N—no, sir,” you whimpered.

“Ah, much better. Now, then….” The spark of amusement remained present in his yellow eyes as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek once again. “I suppose we should get you back inside and dried off, yes? I’d hate to see you get sick, pet.”

Your stomach felt as if it had dropped out of your body when he lifted you abruptly and flung you over his shoulder, your consciousness wavering between the complete sapping of your strength from the seawater still drenching your clothes and the state of shock you were left in. You drifted in and out during the trek back to the castle, your muscles limp and useless. You didn’t jolt back to a remotely aware state until he heaved you off and dropped you onto the cold stone floor of an unfamiliar part of the castle.

“I do just hate to have to cage you after all this time,” he said as you gazed around, your eyes squinted against the darkness. Judging from the lack of windows, you were below the ground level—and this was confirmed when he lit a torch along the wall opposite the one you were leaning against. “Nearly two months, it’s been, hasn’t it? Hmm. How the time flies.”

The dim orange light of the flame expanded as he lit another, and you realized he had deposited you in a small, square cell. The stone walls and floor were the same as the rest of the castle, if a great deal dustier, but the heavy iron bars and door made it clear that you were in the dungeon beneath the fortress.

“But, you’ve really left me no choice,” he went on with a soft, disappointed sigh. You could just make out his silhouette against the flickering firelight, the rattle of chains as he dug around in the drawer of a heavy desk just within your line of sight. “At least for now. I can’t have you escaping before we have a proper discussion about…” He lifted a heavy pair of iron shackles, examining them before giving a short nod. “About several things, really.”

He stepped slowly into the cell, his pace one of leisure, and stopped a few feet away from you, looking down at your pitiful form as you leaned back against the stone wall of the cell, struggling to steady your breathing, shivering in your damp clothes. He frowned as he looked you up and down, and gave a nod toward you.

“Off,” he said, his voice low but commanding enough that you jumped slightly, your brow furrowing as you tried to discern his meaning. “Off,” he repeated. “Can’t have you getting sick. We have a great deal to talk about.”

Your clothes. You glanced down at the wet fabric clinging to your skin, your stomach turning—he was telling you to get out of your clothes.

“Oh, modest, are we?” he said dryly, lifting an eyebrow. He took another step forward, crouching in front of you. You flinched back a bit when he reached a hand out and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Two months you’ve spent constantly at my side. I’m certain I’ve changed clothes in your presence more than a handful of times.”

“I...I didn’t...look,” you whimpered out, swallowing, closing your eyes as your face flared with heat.

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed. “I did find that curious, but you were quite the curious little bird.” You opened your eyes when you heard the chains of the shackles clink lightly, and watched as he stood, rolling his eyes as he turned around, his back to you. “Fine,” he said. “You may keep your undergarments. They’ll dry quickly enough.”

You almost wished that he had just killed you out by the shore. The embarrassment, the utter humiliation of pulling your tank top over your head and letting it fall to the floor with the towering form of the swordsman only a few feet away was enough to make you wish you could drop dead on the spot. You fumbled with your belt buckle, the buttons at the fly of your pants, before kicking them off along with your boots, wrapping your arms around your knees and clenching your eyes shut, trembling from more than just the cold, damp air of the dungeon now.

You heard a rustle of fabric in front of you, and before you could open your eyes you felt the material land in a heap at your feet. You cracked an eye open and frowned at the white heap.

Glanced up at him, your eyes widening as you realized he had removed his flowy, ruffled shirt, his back and shoulders bare as he crossed his arms, still facing the door of the cell.

“Put it on,” he commanded, stepping out of the cell. “And quickly. I pride myself on many things, my dear pet, but patience is not among them.”

You were already picking up the shirt and shrugging it around your shoulders before he finished, fumbling with the buttons with unsteady hands. The shirt was large enough on your much smaller form that it covered you from your shoulders to more than halfway down your thighs, the hem brushing your knees as you tugged it down, staring down at the floor, listening to the chair at the desk scrape across the stone. He set it down in front of you and tossed the shackles down at your feet, taking a seat and crossing an ankle over his knee.

“Those as well,” he said.

The moment your hand touched the shackles, you felt what little strength you had managed to regain begin to drift away from your body all over again. He chuckled when you drew your hand back as if you had been shocked.

“Seastone,” he said. “I salvaged them from the wreckage of a Marine vessel a handful of years ago. Thought they might prove useful one day. Go on.” He nodded down at them as you briefly met his eyes. “Around your ankles. So long as you remain compliant, I will allow you the continued use of your hands. You may need them at some point.”

You didn’t dare ask what that might mean.

You did, however, do as he told you. The seastone shackles felt as if they weighed fifty or more pounds, and it took some effort for you to drag them up even to the height of your ankles and clamp them shut.

“Very good,” he commended, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms, his eyes never leaving you as you slumped back weakly against the walls. “Still such an obedient pet, aren’t you?” Every breath you drew in took a herculean effort, felt as if it might be the last you managed to draw before you passed out from sheer physical exhaustion. “Now, this is a first on my part. I’ve never been one to waste time taking prisoners. You ought to consider yourself privileged. Grateful for my continued hospitality despite your blatant betrayal.”

You swallowed, unable to do anything but give a weak nod.

He gave another small chuckle. “You’ve been trained to handle being the victim of a potential hostage situation,” he commented—it wasn’t a question. He cocked his head slightly to the side. “You’re quite small for a Marine. What rank are you, little bird?”

“Cadet,” you forced out—and, when he lifted an eyebrow, you quickly added, “s—sir.”

“Cadet,” he repeated, leaning back a bit further. “Hm.” He lifted a hand to his chin, his expression thoughtful as he brushed his thumb across his short goatee. “And they saw fit to send you after me.” You nodded again. “Your commanding officers either have a great amount of faith in your potential or they were trying to get rid of you. Which do you think it was?”

“T...they offered me the mission,” you said quietly. “I could have turned it down.”

“Faith in your potential, then,” he said lightly. “What a pity for them Of course, they weren’t wrong,” he went on, lowering his hand down to his knee, strumming his fingers there slowly. “You did play your role well. Well enough to fool that charming pet shop owner in Acacia, even. A veritable expert on the subject. You must have done your homework. Breezed through all your tests with flying colors. I did my own homework, as you know. Amid my reading, I recall mention that wounded or sick pets might show signs of decreased appetite. Interruption of sleep. In extreme cases, potentially isolating themselves from their owners. You see…” He tilted his head once more to meet your eyes, his gaze holding your own with an intensity that made it impossible for you to break the contact. “Had I not woken last night we might not even be having this conversation. Had I not noticed your absence and worried enough to go looking for you.”

Your worry over your mission. Your inability to eat or sleep regularly. Of course he had noticed. You were an idiot to think he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Had I not heard a voice coming from the study below my chambers,” he went on, lowering his voice, “you might have been able to complete your mission without a single hitch. I would have been forced to assume when you left that you had flown off somewhere to die.”

You flinched at that, closing your eyes and lowering your head.

“Oh, now what is this?” He chuckled. “Are we feeling guilty?”

“Yes.” You spoke through gritted teeth—there was no point in lying. You were already compromised, already at his mercy. “I…made the call last night because I…I couldn’t leave with nothing to show for it. Or without…” You swallowed once more, lowering your head to your knees. “I only had four days left. I was expected to slip away unnoticed and rendezvous with my commanding officers at a designated location before returning to Marineford to report on any potential weaknesses of yours I might have discovered.”

“And you claimed you found none,” he continued for you.

You nodded. “But...caring for another living creature is always a potential weakness,” you said quietly.

“Aaah.” You swallowed dryly, clenching your eyes shut tighter as you heard him push the chair back. The whisper of his boots on the stone floor as he took a step forward, the quiet rustle as he crouched down in front of you. “And you were unwilling to list your own presence as a potential weakness. Is that it?” You nodded again, and tensed as he caught your chin in his hand. “And here I’ve already admitted to having worried for the well-being of my pet. You certainly did do a stellar job, didn’t you, my little bird?”

His tone, his touch was almost gentle, despite that edge of persisting amusement at your predicament.

“Open your eyes.”

You obeyed his command once again—though your eyelids fluttered in your growing state of exhaustion brought on by the effects of the seastone shackles wrapped around your ankles, you did your best to maintain eye contact, only vaguely aware of his thumb brushing across your bottom lip as you gazed into his yellow irises.

“I may yet have use for you,” he murmured, his voice still light and amused. “I suppose you are a pretty little thing, if nothing else. And your abilities...well, you managed to fool me, now, didn’t you? Don’t,” he added, his tone sharpening as your eyes began to drift shut, and they shot back open. “There’s one more matter. You spoke of some offer while you were making your call last night. What is it?”

“W...warlord,” you forced out. “The World Government wants to offer pirates they consider too dangerous to combat status as ‘Warlords.’ No more than seven. Bounties expunged in exchange for an agreement to cease hostility against Marines and other World Government officials, and potentially being called upon to assist with other threats.”

“Warlords,” he repeated, letting out a quiet chuckle. “And you’ve been granted permission to extend me this offer?” You gave a small nod, blinking slowly, fighting to keep your eyes open. “Since you’ve reported to your commanding officers that I have no weaknesses they can exploit.” Another nod, and a quiet affirmative hum. “Mm-hmm,” he repeated, smirking. “I suppose it’s worth thinking over. At least until you’ve regained the ability to discuss the subject coherently.”

“Four days.” He lifted his eyebrows at your mumbling, waiting for you to continue. “Need to make contact in four days or they could send a Buster Call.”

“Ah.” His thumb brushed across your cheek, and you found yourself leaning unconsciously toward the warmth of his palm. “So they would sink this entire island into the depths of the ocean with you still on it, would they?” The hum you gave this time was neither affirmative nor dissenting—it was simply in acknowledgment that he had spoken at all, as your lessening coherency made it increasingly difficult to follow his words. “That does sound quite like the Marines. Heaven forbid they should have any loose ends to worry about.”

He expelled a slow sigh, one that might have been of resignation or annoyance, or perhaps some melding of both. Either way, the warmth of his breath across your face made your eyes drift shut, made you fall fully limp against the wall behind you.

You barely registered anything beyond that. Not his light shake at your shoulder in attempt to rouse you, his exasperated sigh as he caught you before you could fall sideways and hit your head against the stone floor.

Not his irritated grumble of, “Troublesome woman,” as he drew one of your hands up to cushion your head against the hard stone floor before he pulled himself to his feet to frown down at you.

To wonder why he hadn’t shoved his way through the door of his study the moment he heard your voice last night and throttled you in that moment.

To wonder why the hell he still had any concern at all for your continued safety and well-being.

You had spent two months, two months deceiving him, abusing his good will, masquerading as a loyal companion when you were nothing more than a dirty little spy.

His hands twitched into fists for a moment as he stared down at you, gritting his teeth. He could end your life right now. It would be only too easy. Crush your throat beneath the heel of his boot. Wrap a hand around your delicate neck until the labored rise and fall of your chest ceased entirely. You had already warned him of the Marines’ potential intent to destroy this island. He could dispose of you and leave on his own before that ever came to pass.

You shifted in your sleep on the cold stone floor, shivering slightly and laying a hand over the toe of one of his boots.

Mihawk swore under his breath, reaching behind him to drag the chair back into place and sit down heavily, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed your slight form below him on the floor covered only by his own shirt.

“What exactly am I supposed to do with you?” he grumbled under his breath, shaking his head, not completely aware himself of how his own gaze softened as he looked down at you. “Useless thing….”

His prisoner.

His pet.

His pretty little bird.

He would be damned if anyone but him were allowed to decide your fate.

First chapter and Previous chapter links again for your convenience

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

CYOA

You know what screw it, I wanted to finish chapter 59 today but I feel horrible and it's just not going to happen so for now you can have this completed scene under the cut with my great affection love love peace peace feel free to react as it'll make me happy etc. etc.

Private WhatsApp Chat Resumed: Friday 18th March, 2022, 07:57 Members: Lily Evans, James Potter

================================

James Potter: i think it's pretty amazing that you and beatrice know the exact date that you first met when you were two

Lily Evans: Lollllll Hello to you too

James Potter: although idk how sirius would react if we knew and i suggested celebrating that hello, also beautiful hello beautiful is what i meant to say

Lily Evans: Suave of you.

James Potter: i'm only just having my first coffee of the day, alright? give me five minutes and i'll be on my game

Lily Evans: I suppose I can allow you five minutes. We didn't always know, but my mum's been journaling every day for most of her life, so a few years back we did a little detective work and it turns out she'd written about my first day at Little Tots. We've done something for our anniversary every year since, but she's blown my gift out of the water this time around.

James Potter: why, what was your gift?

Lily Evans: I bought her a ladyship. She's Lady Beatrice Booth now. Officially. Incredibly it only costs £30 and you get a tiny plot of land in Cumbria with it. I gave the pack to her housemate to leave out today so she'll get a huge kick out of it when she gets home later.

James Potter: how ironic is it that you got her a ladyship and i was looking into getting her canonised earlier

Lily Evans: Lol why?

James Potter: because i really really really liked that video, evans

Lily Evans: I see. I see. I see. Not embarrassed about you having seen that AT ALL. Although I suppose I don't have a right to be embarrassed when I've seen all of your childhood photos, do I? It was probably about time that you saw some of mine.

James Potter: what would you have to be embarrassed about? you were an adorable child i loved watching you grow up on an instagram reel with, inexplicably, flo rida's musical accompaniment

Lily Evans: Lollllllllll I know that probably seems like a weird choice, but it was our go-to dance song when we were eighteen. And on that note, I was a very awkward teenager, as you've now seen.

James Potter: almost everyone on earth was an awkward teenager and the ones who weren't awkward peaked in their teens, so think of how they've suffered since then although i guess sirius is the exception anyway you say you were awkward, but fifteen year old me would have been DESPERATE for fifteen year old you's attention

Lily Evans: Oh, you say that now.

James Potter: no i would have been and i wouldn't have gotten it because as we've previously established i was a prick when i was fifteen so if i'd gone to school with you i still would have been a prick, but a prick who wanted your attention and did all manner of stupid things to get it i would have driven you mad

Lily Evans: Twenty-seven year old you wants my attention and I've not been driven mad over it once, to be fair.

James Potter: twenty-seven year old me has much improved with age and is more deserving of it you however have been a delight your whole life which i now have visual proof of hence i'll be calling your best mate saint lady beatrice from now on

Lily Evans: I wasn't a delight my whole life, I promise you. As a child I was a precocious little shit who thought she knew everything and couldn't be told otherwise. That's why I got into so many scrapes, doing stupid, dangerous things because I couldn't just listen to my mother when she told me "no, Lily, that's dangerous." I was like a working class Peppa Pig, honestly, no wonder my sister couldn't hack being around me half the time. So you're not the only one who has much improved with age. And fifteen year old me would have had a massive crush on fifteen year old you, BELIEVE me.

James Potter: oh really?

Lily Evans: Would I have let you know about it? Absolutely not. But it still would have been there.

James Potter: you mean like the crush you've had on me this whole time?

Lily Evans: I already have to get you back for some nonsense you pulled yesterday, Potter, so I'd advise you not to pile on and add this to the list.

James Potter: lollllllll

Lily Evans: I'm serious!

James Potter: oh i'm sure you are to which i say go on then do it

Lily Evans: I will do it.

James Potter: you go right ahead i can handle it

Lily Evans: You're being very cocky right now and while I can't pretend I don't like it, it'll also prove to be your downfall later.

James Potter: we'll see, we'll see

Lily Evans: We will see.

James Potter: whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart

Lily Evans: I think the fifteen year old you has taken over the controls in your head, mate.

James Potter: he probably has, yeah but what can i say he's really chuffed about your crush on me

Lily Evans: You mean the crush you've decided I have that I haven't confirmed?

James Potter: right, yeah, of course, clearly i'm the one in the wrong here still sleeping in my bed, are you?

Lily Evans: I have to go do a work thing now.

James Potter: oh, sure, that old excuse

[wrr000]

"like a shadow"

Summary: The ghoul you hired for protection liked you more than both of you would expect.

Warnings: english isn't my first language; really short; it's from my Cooper x oc fic, but idk if I should post chapters here; pure soft; inner thoughts; reader is similiar to Lucy

»»————-　♡　————-««

You finally made it to town. Walking thru the wasteland felt like an endless journey while burning sun was always watching every step of foolish humans, who dared to cross these lands. And it wasn't the only threat waiting for your mistep. You earned that stop to rest and gather strength. He deserved it as well.

This place was pretty civilian. By the standards of the wasteland, of course. People were trying to live a "normal" life and some constantly pretended like The Great War never happened. You didn't mind it as long as they didn't act suspicious towards you. Besides, he was here and that made you feel... safe. Kinda. Weird nonetheless.

He was the one who announced parting ways in town and you kindly agreed (like you had a choice).

"I'm goin' to check what chems they got here, think you can handle things on your own, Vaultie" - usual smirk appeared on his fucked up face.

That ghoul was driving you insane. Even after paying him for escort and protection he was still threatening you and bitching around that he actually doesn't care about you and if something big is going to happened - his life goes first, not you. But the sad truth was - you couldn't really blame him.

Ironically, someone like him turned out to be the kindest thing you met since reaching the surface. He was terriyfing, cruel and nothing alike anyone from the Vault. But as time passed, you saw something more in him, under that hard shell and feeling of fear passed. His action were still shocking to you, but wasteland has it's own rules and you started to understand that.

It wasn't a suprise that Cooper didn't want to walk around the town. You felt like he couldn't stand you. But it was fine, you kinda enjoyed exploring and discovering the town alone. Just like the good old times as a child in the Vault.

Little you knew that you had a shadow. Unaware of a pair of penetrating eyes watching your every graceful move. Your smile was the brightest on the whole planet and every small gesture was full of passion. Analizing you very carefuly. You didn't saw him, but he saw you perfectly.

It was hard for the ghoul to admit it to himself that he grew fond of you during your journey together. Very hard. Worst, poor bounty hunter realized that he had a soft spot for a stupid naive Vaultie. Thankfully, you didn't notice anything and he could suffer in silence.

You reminded him of a long gone humanity. Always kind and polite, naive as hell, delusional and annoying. You even never judged him for being a ghoul! Ohhh, how he hated you, but loved at the same time. You were like his human half, a long lost part. He knew you wouldn't last long out there, people like you never lasted long.

Cooper took this job for money of course. You offered a good amount of caps and it was equal with massive stock of chems. But now, he thougth to himself, it would be a shame if something happened to you, right? That's why he was doing an "extra" job. Always watching, even if he didn't had to, always protecting you, even if you didn't noticed it.

In a long long long time the ghoul felt like a human again. It was pissing him off, but he missed that feeling. Well, he missed his whole previous life actually, more than he would like, but you kinda started to filling that void inside his ghoulish heart. Slowly.

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 15

ISAT/Two Hat spoilers below. CW: Uhhh.... emotional pain, idk exactly how to tag this one but it's gonna hurt y'all, I may or may not have cried at work just THINKING about this chapter... So uhh, yeah, you've been warned.

(You awaken to an odd sensation. It feels distantly familiar, like a wave of healing and confirmation washing over your very essence… a save point?… Wh… Why are you feeling this now? This hasn't happened any other time so far… was it Loop?! You barely even finish the thought before your hand is placed beside your head in the usual 'call loop' sign… and the connection never comes.)

"Loop…" (You shudder out softly as your hand falls back to your side. You sit there, frozen, mind racing with all the horrible possibilities of what this all could mean. Were they gone?… Were you too late?… Could you even loop back before now if you wanted to? Why is the connection gone?! What happened to them?! They can loop too right?! You have to go back! You have to try!! Yo-)

"Sif? S-Sif are you okay?" (Isa's voice snaps you out of it, perking up a little and looking over at him. Tears have been pouring down your face. Isa sits up quickly, wrapping his arms around you almost instinctively, holding you close to his chest with worry.)

"I-I… I can't feel them anymore… Loop's gone!" (You choke out through the lump in your throat. You can't stop yourself from sobbing anymore. You retreat into the comfort of their touch, and yet you can't help but feel so alone in this moment.)

"I-It's okay Sif, I'm here… We'll figure this out, I'm sure they're fine!" (He tries to comfort you, but you both know his words are empty promises.)

----------------------------------------------------

"Are you certain they're gone? Maybe something just severed the connection, or there's an interference." (Odile theorizes as her and Mira had entered the room to console you. You sit in bed, holding your legs to your chest under you cloak, hiding your face in it as your expression looks hopeless.)

"I could always feel them… the slightest little blip, even when they never showed back up again… a-and now they're just…" (You start to explain, tears forming in your eye once more.)

"B-But we don't know what they've been doing! It doesn't mean they're gone!" (Mirabelle chimes in, trying to be as hopeful as possible.)

"What else could it mean, Mira?! Why else wouldn't I be able to feel them anymore?! I-I… I have to loop back, I-I have to try and sto-"

"Frin?…" (Your heart stops as you look to the door, noticing Bonnie standing just outside of it.)

"B-Bonbon! I-I-… I didn't… I-I'm not…" (You stammer out, your body shaking. Bonnie looks devastated, clenching their fists with tears welling up in their eyes. They then sprint back down the hall as they start sobbing. Odile sighing and following after.)

"I'll try to talk to them." (She nods to Isa and Mira, as if handing off the problem for them to deal with you…)

"Sif, please, you gotta calm down and then we can try to figure this out."

"What is there to figure out?! They're gone!! A-And if they're gone then what's even the point of going through all this again?! I-I-… I can't! I can't do this!!" (Your voice screams out, gripping your hair so tight it nearly tears out of your head. Tears continue to pour from your single eye.)

"Siffrin! P-Please, you'll hurt yourself!" (Mirabelle cries out as she looks ready to craft some healing for you.)

"We don't know they're gone Sif, we could-" (Isabeau starts to console you before you snap back.)

"Of course they're gone!! Why wouldn't they be?! Everything else that matters to me vanishes! Loop! My home! My memories! MY WHOLE BLINDING LIFE!! IT'S ALL GONE!!"

"…Sif… You've still got us…" (He pleads, you can hear the devestation in his voice.)

"Do I?! Because I just spent the last 30 years with all of you and only I can remember any of it!! That makes me feel pretty blinding lonely right now!!" (You can't even bear to look at either of them, but the silence stings painfully in your ears.)

"... C'mon, Mira, I think Sif just needs to simmer down." (Isa does his best to hide the break in his voice, but he's clearly fighting back the tears. The both of them leave the room and shut the door behind them. You grab the pillow beside you and bury your face into it. You scream as loud as you can, you scream until your voice gives out and your throat is raw, then you try to scream some more. The tears eventually stop flowing from your eye. You think you've just ran out of them.)

(You pull your face up from the tear and saliva soaked pillow, just throwing it to the side. The light from the window flickers as the branches blocking the sun drift about in the wind. You hop up off the bed and open the window wide, climbing out and sprinting to the largest tree you can find.)

-----------------------------------------------------

(The favor tree towers over you. You need a leaf, your favorite one… None of them mean anything to you in the moment. You grab the most Fresh looking leaf you can find. You hold it close and whisper into it thrice.)

"I wish to find Loop…"

(You delicately fold the leaf and drop it at your feet. You wait… You wait some more… You're getting impatient. You pick up another leaf, you whisper into it 6 times.)

"I wish to find Loop."

(You fold and drop the leaf again. You wait. You clench your fists and jaw, letting out an annoyed growl. You pick up another leaf, and scream into it until your voice gives out again.)

"I WISH TO FIND LOOP! SHOW ME WHERE THEY ARE YOU STUPID BLINDING UNIVERSE!!! I HAVE TO FIND THEM!! I WISH TO FIND LOOP!!!!"

(You violently crumple the leaf up and throw it to the ground, panting and shaking, staring angrily at the set of useless leaves you had used. As you prepare to grab yet another leaf, a strong gust of wind flows through, swooping up the 3 leaves you had used and fluttering them along through the tree line... the faintest hint of sugar fills your nostrils. You begin walking the way they pointed.)

[cas-backwards-tie]

I'm new to you page and wa wondering if you had discontinued the pack plan series as its brilliant:))

Ahhh, well, welcome! 💖🥰🫂 We’re so glad to have you here! I want to thank you for reaching out and asking 💕 I always appreciate asks! Even when they’re not related to my fics.

TOPP is definitely still in the works! And because you asked so nicely and cared to inquire, I feel like I owe it to all of you all to post a snippet of the next chapter! 🙌🏻 Because I definitely realize and know how long you guys have been waiting! I’ll post the snippet and then I also can give you an update about the fic/where I’m at, at the bottom.

Snippet of Ch.2:

"Why wouldn't you just tell us?!" Soap grits out, his voice taking on a dark tone as he turns his once sky blue, now stormy, eyes on you. "Do you realize what position you've gone and put us in?"

“Yeah, and what position’s that?” You engage, turning to square off against Johnny, the both of you only a foot apart since you’d been standing next to each other in line.

You’re met with a low warning growl, the motion of his hand balling up into a fist at his side not being missed by your peripheral vision. Despite your defiance not being unusual within the team, your designation now, is known, and an Omega standing up to an Alpha? Not taken kindly upon. Nor is it taken lightly. Regardless, they’re not your Alphas, and that means they have no claim over what you do or say. And while there’s always the risk of an Alpha disciplining an unruly, unclaimed Omega, you’re willing to take it.

"It's your fault, really," Ghost eggs on, making everyone whip their heads in his direction.

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

[If you don’t know what this is in reference too, here’s the masterlist for the series in question!]

So the reason why I haven’t posted the chapter yet is for a few reasons 💕 One, from a writing standpoint this one is quite longer, and I want it to be amazing for you guys! When I was writing the first chapter I had a friend to help me with the dialogue (which is why I feel I really struggle) and rn I don’t, so I think I’ve been nervous about that a bit.

But also, because in my real life there’s been a lot of major changes recently. In September I found out that I have CIRS (Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome) which, is basically like mold sickness but, like, permanent. So I’ve been trying to find somewhere safe to move/detox from the mold w meds bc my body can’t on its own, and I’m actually just finally moving into my new apartment on Sunday! 💖🙌🏻 so that’s cool.

Besides that, I also got diagnosed with, like, idk, I guess it’s a disability, technically, and the fact that I’ve been struggling my whole life with it but never knew has been… kind of mind blowing tbh? Like I haven’t told anyone except one person about it—not even my best friends yet—bc it’s been a lot to work through since… I guess I’ve technically had this my whole life but only now know at 25? 😅🤯

So it’s been a lot of working on my health both physically, mentally, and with moving, my family, Christmas coming up, and trying to find a job/support myself even day-to-day, it’s been kind of taxing tbh balancing everything. And that’s not even mentioning the little social life I do have 😅😭🙈 So while I know it’s frustrating waiting, and I’m sorry that it’s taken so long, I do want to be open and tell you guys what’s going on behind the scenes 💕 Granted, I know not everyone necessarily cares, and that’s okay! If you did read all this, though, I appreciate you and hope you have an amazing day!

Your ask, though, Nonnie definitely is inspiring me to sit down and really finish the next two chapters bc I have both laid out- one nearly finished, the other will be shorter (I think?) because of the plot point it’s mostly about 💕 I will say though, too, it does make me a bit anxious not having had a whole plan for this fic unlike the others which I’ve sort of started writing with a whole plot in mind 😂🙈💖 so I just hope you guys will continue to love it ask much as you’ve loved the first chapter! I genuinely have never received as much love on a work than that one chapter, alone! So I am truly grateful 💖

[pyssball]

beaching for life .ᐟ f1 d!lfs

masterlist

a/n: beach trip w the gang bc who’s gonna stop me 😼 also a bit of a time skip btw abt a week or so after the trip with seb. i was going to write a smut cut of this chapter between mark and chloe but i scratched it bc i realised idk how to write smut 😭 also sorry this took so long, my job is kicking my ass 😞

word count: 1.4k

no warnings for this chapter 💌

February 7, 2023

She wasn’t supposed to be at his house until tomorrow but a little surprise never hurt anyone.

She turned off her headlights as she turned onto his road and pulled into his driveway, giggling to herself as she did so. Mark was always the one to show up and surprise her at one of her shows so she just wanted to return the favour.

As she sat in her car she pulled out her phone to call Mark, to which he answered almost immediately with a stern, “What are you doing up this late?”

“Who are you? My dad?” she giggled, ”I just missed your voice.” she spoke softly, that part was true, she really did miss him, which is partially why she chose to come over a bit earlier than planned.

“That’s very sweet, honey, but I think you should get some sleep.” As soon as he finished his sentence he heard a car door shut on the other side of the phone. “Was that a car door?”

“Maybe.” she giggles, “I took a drive.”

“At 11:32 at night?”

“I got bored.” she walked up to the front of the house, “Plus I have someone to see.” and with that she hung up, leaving Mark completely confused. She shoved her phone back into her pocket while she knocked on the door.

It took him a couple seconds to get to the door, but as soon as he opened it he just froze. He looked mortified but she knew that was far from the truth, he was just trying to process the whole ordeal. She smirked at his reaction, “Surprise.” she sang, holding her arms out for a hug.

“Chloe!” Mark immediately picked her up and spun her around, wrapping her in his arms. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” he places her back on her feet, resting his hands on her hips as he awaited a response

“I wanted to surprise you!”

“Well this is certainly a surprise sweetheart.” he pressed a kiss to her forehead before guiding her into the living as he went to retrieve her bags from her car. After he was done he sat down next her her on the couch, putting his arm around her and pulled her closer to his side, she snuggled against him, humming softly as she got comfortable.

The pair ended up falling asleep on the couch while watching a re-run of Grown Ups, legs and arms tangled up together. Chloe’s head resting on his chest and his arms firmly wrapped around her waist, insuring no escape.

February 8, 2023 (10:02 a.m.)

Mark woke up before she did (surprise, surprise) and decided to make her breakfast, he wasn’t much of a cook but he figured it was the thought that counted.

He admits, he may have gone a bit over board but in his mind she deserved every bit of it. He makes his way to the living room to wake her up, something he really didn’t enjoy doing. His hands also slowly ran up and down her back, pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade, “Babyyy..” he sang softly.

Her eyes fluttered open as she felt him press another kiss to her skin, this time to her crook of her neck and she hummed in response.

“Time to get up, darling.” he says warmly, “I made you breakfast.”

“Bacon?” she all but mumbles.

He chuckles, “Yes, there’s bacon, hun. Now come on before it gets cold.”

She sits up, wiping her eyes as she yawns obnoxiously loud. Mark helps walk her to the dining room, pulling her chair out for her. “Such a gentleman.” she giggles as she sits.

“Only for you.” he winks before he walks to the kitchen to grab the plates he had made for the two of them, “Hope you’re hungry.” he said as he placed one of the plates in front of her and the other on front of his seat, “You want apple juice, love?”

She nodded quickly in response and she began eating her food. He had made everything she liked, just the way she liked it, eggs fried with no yolk, bacon a bit crispy and toast the perfect golden brown. He placed a cup near her plate as he finally sat down to eat with her, “I have the car all packed and ready, Jenson and Nando are getting there together, Seb said he’d be a bit late but he’ll be there.”

Her brows furrowed, “Seb? Late? Impossible.”

“Apparently he woke up late.” he shrugged, “Knowing him he’ll probably find some way of getting there quicker.”

(11:24 a.m.)

Mark was right.

Sebastian managed to get there before everyone, sitting under a tree as he waited for the others to arrive.

He made his way to Mark’s car to help upload as Chloe searched for the perfect spot. Jenson and Fernando weren’t too far behind, pulling up a couple minutes after Mark set up the umbrella Chloe insisted he bring.

Chloe was in the middle of unpacking all the snacks and laying them out in a nice spread for everyone when Jenson put his hands around her eyes, “Guess who.” he sang.

She’d smile, “Judging by that stupid British accent I assume Jenson.” she’d spin around to be greeted by not only the Brit but also Fernando. She hugged them both before going back to sorting the snacks.

“So what’s the plan?” Jenson asked, sitting on one of the blankets laid out on the sand.

“Well I don’t know about you guys but I’m drawing for a bit.” Chloe spoke, sitting in one of the deck chairs Mark had packed, gathering her sketchbook and art supplies from her backpack.

Fernando chuckled as he sat next to Jenson, “You’re always drawing, cariño.”

She shrugged, “And you guys are always racing so what’s the problem?”

Jenson laughed, “Cheeky little thing today, are we?”

Chloe smiled widely, “Always.”

Mark and Seb had just got done unpacking everything, walking back over to the group, sitting on the other blanket next to the deck chair. “Glad you guys are enjoying yourselves.” Mark grumbled, laying down on the blanket, attempting to stretch his back.

(1:43 p.m.)

The sun hung high in the clear blue sky, casting golden rays on the pale sand below. Waves crashing against the shore, creating soothing sounds for the group’s adventures. Birds flying overhead, cawing at each other.

Jenson was closest to the water’s edge, engrossed in an intense game of beach volleyball with Mark, diving to save the ball, sending it soaring back over the net with triumphant smile as it smacked the sand, causing Mark to yell out a string of curses.

Chloe stayed in the deck chair under the shade of the umbrella, her sketchbook balanced on her knees as she captured the scene before her in swift, confident pencil strokes, the page slowly filling with a lively depiction of their beach day.

Fernando had moved to sit on the blanket closest to Chloe, intently watching the volleyball game, occasionally stealing glances at Chloe’s work.

A little further down the beach was Sebastian, crouched down peering into a pool crowded with tiny crabs and colourful sea anemones. He called out to the others, excitement in his voice as he discovered a vibrant starfish clinging to a rock.

As the day wore on, the friends came together for a break. Mark and Jenson collapsing onto the sand, breathless from their game. Fernando moving up to sit behind Chloe on the deck chair, Chloe putting her sketchbook back into her bag. Seb joined them, cradling his starfish discovery in a small bucket of water.

“Look what I found.” She said, holding the bucket up for everyone to see.

Chloe leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Woahhh, it’s so pretty, Seb. You always find the coolest stuff.”

Jenson grinned, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Anyone up for a swim?”

Mark nodded, already getting up his feet, “You know it!”

Chloe beamed, “Can we play mermaids?”

Mark, Seb and Fernando all yelled ‘yes!’ in sync and the group erupted with laughter.

thank you for reading, darlings ! remember to like and reblog ! i’ll give u a smooch if u do, luv u all !

[loumandaniel]

Yeah. Armand looks sooooo annoyed 😭😭😭 every time Daniel opens his mouth. I have to confess something. Even if I do kind of like the concept of dm and the eternal sunshine theory- I do love the question of what happens if you don't have time and your loved ones will never run out of time and also won't ever grow into anything else either- I don't think past dm happened. And uh. Idk how can dm happen then if there has been no past dm and a considerable part of dm was Armand terrorizing Daniel and Daniel trying to push through it before they eventually take a liking to each other.

i agree that past devil’s minion is essential, so without it, present dm going forward could feel odd. it’s easy to forget in fandom that devil’s minion is a blank slate right now. everything about them is essentially just theory. if you avoid outside interviews and books, the only thing you really know is that armand turned daniel out of spite. that’s it. if you don’t actively search for them, you won’t know they’re drifting toward something romantic until it actually happens.

i just can't come up with a reason to remove the chapter at all though. it plays a major role in armand grappling with his trauma surrounding marius, so i see no reason for it to be cut (hello anne rice's opinion on the cycle of abuse). it also ties into daniel’s character - his pursuit of truth, even to disastrous and unethical ends. the core elements of their relationship can exist in any form, but if there were to be something more between armand and daniel, it fits perfectly within themes of the show and who they are, even with your mention of "time running out." if dm broke up as poorly as they did in the book and there is no queen of the damned event to bring them back together, then of course armand being annoyed fits very well. imagine your annoying ex who left you because you two got too codependent is in your home untying your web you built for your current companion lol. i wouldn't want the king of destroying relationships in MY house.

the issue i've found with fandom and devil's minion (and honestly, a lot of other characters & ships get this treatment too) is that they're quite sanitized. when held up against their antagonism in the show, this tends to lead towards conflicting opinions. i hate to say it, but reading the books does a lot more heavy-lifting than one would expect. armand and daniel don't speak any differently in the show than they do in the books lol. they clash in both materials. they both want what the other has and they bleed together, which results in love.

i know this is mean to say, but the iwtv fandom as a whole really sands down the idea of love, or sticks to one singular interpretation. love doesn't immediately equate to a positive. the entire show revolves around how vampirism, whether as a curse or as a gift, confronts your emotions, your memory, against an unending corridor of time. if time heals all wounds, how many times can you rip the scar open again? like, yes, sure, louis and lestat love each other, but should louis love the man who dropped him thousands of feet to punish him for his denial of love? no lol. except, love here is measured against a passage of time beyond human comprehension. much of the love in this show can be horrific and dark, and yet there it is.

anyway, an unnecessarily long post to essentially say that, yea, devil's minion fits the show's theme too well for it to be abandoned in any form. armand enjoys living in lies at his own comfort, while daniel will pursue truth at the cost of his own. throw in the theory that a part of daniel's life is gone, potentially because of something armand has done? now, they’re clashing, but each with a long stretch of time to deal with that. they can be the warped mirror image of loustat, which is delicious to think about.

[thefandomenchantress]

Chapter 2 Episode 15 Spoilers below!

Since Ace being the culprit has brought about so much pain to ace lovers, including me, I figured I'd make a list of all the good things that him being the culprit brings to us. Even though Ace will (probably) be executed next episode, that doesn't mean that nothing good came out of this, right?

-Ace's backstory may be revealed much sooner than expected! Before we would've had to wait for chapter 3 or chapter 4 and so on, but since Ace will be gone soon, almost everything not revealed next episode will get told to us in a bonus episode! (I think every dead person gets one of those? Idk if that's officially confirmed). I doubt Teruko's gonna find, like, Ace's diary in chapter three detailing his life story, so if we're ever getting the Taylor Lore™, it'll be in a bonus episode! Plus, a bonus episode would come out a lot faster than the whole of chapter three, so more Ace content sooner no matter what happens in it! And there's always the chance he gets picked for an FTE, since dead people are on the list of options.

-Ace canonically has neat, fancy handwriting. Begone rumors of Ace having illegible, traditionally boy-ish handwriting, he actually writes like a 19th century scholar and I find this very funny. More evidence for my 'Ace likes reading and writing and wanted to become a romance author' crack theory, since he also reenforced his particularness about vocabulary in chapter 2 part 2. (Our only remaining question: Does Ace actually have terrible spelling ('responsibel'), or did he just think Eden would?)

-Ace is very good at being sneaky and often overhears things he shouldn't. I can't wait for this to be used as a plot device in numerous fics ("XANDER YOU'LL NEVER GUESS THE SHIT I JUST HEARD DAVID SAY ABOUT YOU WHEN HE THOUGHT HE WAS ALONE").

-Ace will have to be included in the dead (formerly a) trio posts forevermore. Get ready for Xander-Min-Arei-Ace shenanigans.

-Now that the cast has been forced to acknowledge that being dumb and angry aren't Ace's only traits and that he's just as human as the rest of them, Ace is much less likely to be seen as just those two things by the average viewer. Ace's popularity, or at least the amount of dislike towards him, seems to have shifted since the last episode, and I'm happy more people are able to enjoy what his character has to offer now. He's a cool little guy. I've literally NEVER seen the Ace Markey tag this busy before.

-We got so many cool Ace CGs guys. SO MANY. Including one where he's hanging upside down on the swing set and looks weirdly cute for someone in the middle of a murder plan.

-Also new sprites! The DRDTdev gave Ace a redesign knowing full-well that it would only get a singular chapter of use, and I massively respect that. We already got some new sprites in part 2 of chapter 2 so far, and I'm guessing next episode he'll probably have at least one more breakdown sprite before he dies.

-For someone who no one in the cast liked, he's definitely going to leave an impact. He's finally made at least some of the cast realize what happens when they ignore the issues right in front of them. Ace shouts about how everyone hates him and sees him as an insufferable idiot? Eh, probably nothing, we don't have to worry about that. Sure, multiple people told him he's gonna die next in here, and he almost got murdered, but that won't amount to anything. What's he gonna do, murder someone--WAIT SHIT Ace step away from the Arei I repeat step away from the Arei-- (plus Teruko parallels). I'll probably go more in-depth about this sort of thing in a different post.

-WE NEVER GOT TO SEE WHAT'S UNDER HIS GLOVES. Kyoko and Mukuro both had hand-related secrets that connected them to the plot later on, does that mean Ace will have some sort of relevance to the mastermind or overall lore later on? Like a Mai tattoo situation? (Or maybe it's another thing that may be alluded to or discussed in the bonus episode)(Or left to interpretation but I hope not because I have so many theories).

If you have any more suggestions for other good Ace-related things the culprit reveal brought us, let me know and I can add them to the list! We need as many good things as we can think of right now...

[varteeny1234]

I DECIDED TO GIVE MISAVID (misadventures / avidventures avid) SOME TRAUMATIC BACKSTORY /silly

Summary:

Avid wasn't the only one on the spaceship. Everyone else is dead. He never wanted to take the only escape pod.

Words: 892

Chapters: 1/1

Warnings: Implied blood splatters, past character death & implied present character death, outer space themed angst (idk)

Ship: None explicitly mentioned but can be read that way

(full fic under cut)

The spaceship's warning lights were flashing, alarms blaring, as the red... things wove their way through the walls. Avid flinched at the sight of them, wishing he could run away and hide from this nightmare. He only realized he'd closed his eyes when he tripped on one of the tentacle-like things.

He let out a cry when he hit the floor.

"Avid? Avid!"

He pushed himself up, taking the hand of the person in front of him. 

"Thanks, Viking. Sorry," he said. Viking only nodded in response, but his worry was etched into his face, a rare sight- he'd removed his mask at some point before the ship had started to collapse, and hadn't had the opportunity to put it back on. He pulled him down the hallway, continuing towards the escape pod. 

Escape pod. Just one.

If Viking wasn't holding his hand, he was sure he'd have fallen again.

It wasn't much further that they had to run. They didn't come across anyone else on the way- well, there was a suspicious red smear on a wall, but they didn't see a body. Avid shuddered, thinking about which of his crew members- which of his friends- that could already be dead, which ones could have fallen, and which ones were still alive, but with no hope of escaping the dying ship.

The sound of the alarms was still grating on his ears, but the escape pod was untouched by the red tendrils.

One seat available.

Avid and Viking looked at each other. Avid already knew what Viking was going to do, before he even opened his mouth. Viking wasn't the self-sacrificial type, but the longing gleam in his eyes was one Avid knew well.

It was a look that Avid himself wore, on occasion. At least, that's what Marm had said- he wasn't sure about that, but Marm seemed to know him better than he knew himself. He trusted her.

And Viking had lost someone, a long time ago. He didn't want to go through that again, what with the survivor's guilt. He'd rather give Avid a chance.

Viking tried to say something, tried to speak, but he cut him off. He put his hand over his mouth.

"No- no, Viking, you take the pod. I don't care what you think, I don't care about the whole 'I need to survive, I've still got a life ahead of me' thing, you've gone through so much! I- let me give you this, please! Let me save you," he pleaded.

"Nah, I'm good, I think. I'll find another way. You know I've always got a trick or three up my sleeve," he winked, trying to bring back a little bit of humor into the desperation of the situation, but Avid saw the tears welling in his eyes. "You've got this. You have to live for both of us, until I find you again. Okay? Can you do that, for me?"

Avid grabbed him, trying to pull him towards the pod. "No, you can't- you can't do this!" He cried. "I don't want to be alone! Please!"

Curse Viking and his stupid tall-ness, Avid couldn't move him an inch.

"Listen to me," Viking said. "You won't be alone. Someone will find you, whether that's me or someone else. Here, take this-" he shoved his enormous, fluffy coat into Avid's hands, the one Avid had a habit of stealing, the one that was so warm and soft and smelled like home- "to keep me with you, while you wait. I'll come get you. I'll find you.

"But for now, you need to go, okay? The ship won't last much longer. So, please, Avid- go!"

Avid realized too late he'd made the mistake of placing himself between Viking and the escape pod. He fell backwards, through the doorway, and Viking shut the door. He gave him one last smile, and mouthed something through the window.

Was he apologizing? Was he telling Avid he loved him, one last time?

Was it a goodbye?

He threw himself against the closed door, pounding his fists and screaming.

"Viking! Viking, no, please, don't do this! We- we can both take the pod! We'll be fine, it'll be fine! We can squish in here! Please! VIKING!"

He couldn't hear him.

Viking closed his eyes, now letting his tears flow freely. He pushed the button to launch the pod, and Avid watched him, along with the ship, disappear into the endless nothingness of space.

He cried. He clutched Viking's coat to his chest, burying his face inside it.

~~~~

It was a long time before Avid was able to pull himself together, before he was able to drag himself to the seat, to work the control panels. He needed to record at least one final mission log.

He'd folded the coat up and put it in the tiny storage compartment for safekeeping, and to hide it from his sight. Better to not be reminded of Viking.

There was a planet off in the distance. He could try and crash-land there, maybe he'd be able to find someone alive. Someone to help him.

He'd wait there, wait for-

No, he wasn't thinking of him right now.

But maybe, just maybe, there was a way he could have survived. Maybe, if he sent enough signals out into nowhere, he'd be able to find him again.

[dekusleftsock]

Y’all reading the newest chapter scans is like whiplash

I forgot how unhinged he can be, and tbh how much more unhinged he’s currently being.

Anyway Izuku is my favorite character so, sorry y’all, I know everyone is excited about Katsuki

However. Everyone else can talk about Katsuki. I live on my scraps.

Love how Shigaraki tries to get a dig at Izuku about Katsuki like how Monoma did when he unlocked blackwhip, so his immediate reaction is diverge diverge diverge.

Talk about repressed but this is a whole new level.

And his eye bags, they just make him look so exhausted.

I said this before but the chapter after Katsuki woke up Izuku looked relieved to me yes, but also… very scared. Very afraid of Katsuki’s well being.

Especially since, if we compare what Katsuki is doing now (using the pain as an extension of his quirk), you could EASILY COMPARE to when Izuku unlocked danger sense with shigaraki. How concerned and afraid Katsuki was in those chapters.

The thing is though, Katsuki was honest. He was honest that Izuku shouldn’t be doing this on his own, he’s being honest now—“I’m Kacchan of the Bakugou’s!”

He knows how he’s feeling and he’s letting himself feel it.

Somehow, Izuku still isn’t.

Hell, when afo ignores Katsuki, what he does is laugh about how much pain he’s in, but that it’s the key.

Let’s compare how Katsuki is using pain to how Izuku is using pain with danger sense. Let us not forget, danger sense is a physically taxing quirk, much like the rest of ofa. It causes a migraine when in any immediate danger.

Idk about y’all, but I get migraines so bad sometimes I vomit from the buildup of pressure. I can’t focus on anything. I just cant really imagine Izuku using danger sense that well in a fight… yet he does.

And, what exactly is danger sense for? To get out of danger? Maybe to avoid the danger? Ofa is an extension of Izuku’s inner turmoil, every single quirk exhibits this, and it would make so. Much. Sense. For danger sense to mimic his avoidance of emotions and vulnerability.

Katsuki’s quirk as it is now uses pain in a very odd way to me—he doesn’t try to use it to exit himself from the danger or pain, but actively searches for it. The pain is the key.

Danger sense is also a relatively self serving quirk, only really useable for himself. And for him to reference danger sense of all his quirks rn, it would make sense since…

Izuku has been self serving and avoidant since before even this fight. Hell, before even the war arc. Maybe this has gone on his entire life.

I want to hit him so bad for this y’all don’t GET IT.

And, just so we all know, he did this in 348 too. When confronted with emotional conversations, his first thought will always be “but how’s the fastest way I can win this fight?”

MY PROOF YALL IM SO DONE WITH THIS DUDE

“You see I have never once thought about hurting the people I care about like that!” Okay maybe be less boring

HM I WONDER WHY

THATS SO CRAZY DEKU

YOU TELL ME

WHY IS THE GIRL WHO YOU REJECTED AND THEN SAID THAT HER WAY OF LOVING IS SOMETHING YOU COULD NEVER DO TO OTHER PEOPLE (ALSO IMPLYING JUDGEMENT IN THIS STATEMENT), SAD RIGHT NOW?

LETS USE SOME COMMON SENSE PLEASE

I’m hyped for when Izuku is forced to be honest y’all don’t understand. It’s gonna be an angst fest and it’s gonna be romantic and I literally can’t see it not heading down the “explicitly canonical” path.

[throneofrayllum]

The Moment She Became a Mother

Warnings: Child birth, swearing, mentions of things that might make some people uncomfy idk. If your familiar with child birth you'll be fine tho. Do not proceed if these things make you uncomfortable

Hi!!! This is a little spin off to my post season 2 series "I Never Stopped". This is set not long after Jinx arrives in Demacia and begins living with her boss (bestie/mother figure) and Lux (her lowkey situationship at the time). I'll probably be posting more slice of life stuff about Jinx and her daughter Felicity in between chapters of the main fic :) By the way, this one shot is in Lux's POV.

Lux's eyes flutter open when she feels the weight of the mattress shift. Jinx must be having back pains again. Recently, Jinx's back pains got worse at night and she would have to pace the bedroom to relieve them. The millions of pillows Lux set up for Jinx to prop up her back seemed to be doing nothing for the poor girl. Lux turns over to try to see if Jinx needs her help, but instead of being met with the familiar sight of her girlfriend friend pacing back and forth, she sees Jinx bent over the dresser, her eyes clamped shut in pain. Lux shoots up immediately and crawls across the bed. When she reaches Jinx's side, she feels a wet patch on the sheets. Shit. Lux scrambles out of the bed, and rushes to the bluenette's side. She rests her hands on Jinx's shoulders as she asks, "Did your water break?" The pregnant girl shakes her head, "Yeah. About twenty minutes ago." Lux can't help the surge of anger she feels. She rests her head against Jinx's back and can't help the bite in her tone as she asks, "Why didn't you wake me up sooner? What the hell were you thinking? Do you understand how dangerous it is for your water to break this early?" Jinx pushes herself off the dresser and snaps, "Yeah, I know! I'm the one having the fucking baby, you don't need to freak me out even more!" Lux closes her eyes and rubs her temples, "I'm sorry, J, I'm sorry." She looks back up and her heart breaks when she sees Jinx's lip wobbling and the tears running down her face. Jinx crashes into Lux and pushes as close to her as she can with the barrier of her bump. "I'm not ready", she sobs. Lux runs her shaking fingers through her best friends hair, "I know ,honey, I know. But you have to, this baby wants to come right now and there's nothing we can do to stop them." Jinx sniffles and backs away, her hands instinctually resting on her bump. "What do we do?", she asks, pain etched on her face. Lux gives her a smile, "I'm gonna go get Masyn and she's gonna help us ok? I'll be right next to you the whole time." Jinx nods, and Lux presses a kiss to her temple, "Sit down on the bed ok? I don't want you standing while I'm gone." Jinx rolls her eyes but obeys, slowly lowering herself on the edge of the bed. Lux moves to walk out the door but turns back, "Remember your breathing ok?"

Lux sprints down the stairs leading to the bar, almost falling on her face as she does so. Heads turn in her direction as she barrels into the bar room. She spots Masyn pouring a drink and catches her eye from across the room. Lux lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding when Masyn taps her husband on the shoulder and begins walking over to Lux. Everything will be ok if Masyn's present. She was a midwife before she committed herself to aiding in the mage revolution and bought the bar. Masyn had been a saving grace for Jinx throughout her pregnancy. When the older woman makes it over to Lux, she grabs her hands. "Tell me Jinx isn't in labor", she says, her tone serious in a way that scares Lux. The blonde girls stomach drops. "She is", Lux replies. Masyn closes her eyes and sighs heavily. Lux feels her throat get tight as she asks, "She's gonna be ok, right?" Masyn ignores her question and asks, "Did her water break?" Lux nods. The older woman lets out a curse before pulling Lux back up the stairs. She explains as they climb back to the apartment; "Well, she's already a month early and since her water broke so soon there's an increased risk of infection, but I think she'll pull though."

Lux rushes back into the bedroom as soon as they enter the apartment and falls to her knees in front of Jinx. "Hey, honey. May's here, ok? Your gonna be ok. I promise." Jinx nods and grips the sheets in pain, Lux rubs soothing circles on her leg. Masyn walks in carrying her medical bag she had been keeping in Jinx's closet in preparation for the birth. She places it on the floor and runs her hand through Jinx's hair, "Hey J, I know the situation isn't ideal, but I'm gonna make it work." Jinx looks up at her with tearful eyes, her body shaking slightly, "I don't wanna jinx my baby. I don't wanna, I don't wanna, I don't-" Jinx ending her rambling with a sob, her hands clutching her head, eyes squeezed shut. Masyn crouches next to Lux and pulls the bluenette's hands away from her face, "Baby girl, I want you to listen to me. Ok?" Jinx nods, her eyes frantic in a way that scares Lux. Jinx can't have an episode now. That's the last thing her body, and the baby's body, need. Lux backs away to give Jinx space when Masyn speaks, "I know your scared. Your terrified, and that's ok. I was too when I became a mom. But you need to be here for yourself. You need to be here for your baby. You can't do what you need to do if your not with us right now, ok? And baby girl, you are not gonna jinx this baby. I know the situations risky because of how early you went into labor, but were gonna make it work." Lux smiles when Jinx's eyes finally lose their panic and her breathing slows. Good, this is good. Masyn leads the expectant mother through some breathing exercises, and when Jinx comes back to herself, she says, "No epidural." Both Masyn and Lux's heads shoot up at that. Lux approaches her friend and sits down beside her, taking her hand gently, "Honey, I don't think that's a good idea. I think an epidural would be really beneficial." Jinx scowls, "Ok? Did I fucking ask for your opinion?" Lux takes her hand away. "No, you didn't. Your right. It's your body, your decision." Jinx sighs and scoots, well, tries to scoot closer to Lux. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just...because of what happened to me, you know, with the...shimmer. I just don't want any needles." Jinx's voice grows quiet when she mentions the drug that had been injected to her without her consent. The drug that changed aspects of her psyche, that changed her biology. Lux and Masyn both smiled sadly at her. "No epidural. You got it", Masyn said, her voice kind and soft. Lux forgets how great of a nurse Masyn is. It's a shame she quit her career, but Lux owes May so much. She's helped tremendously with the rebellion. After a few moments of silence between the three women, Jinx speaks up, "Okie dokie! Let's have a baby!"

Over the next couple hours, Lux and Masyn take turns holding Jinx through the contractions and applying gentle pressure to her lower back to ease the pain. As of right now, Jinx is lying back in between Lux's legs on the bed, Lux rubbing Jinx's head to help relieve tension. Lux is caught off guard when her friend speaks, she'd gotten used to the silence over the last ten minutes, the only sound being Masyn prepping the bathroom. "Do you think I can do this?", Jinx asks, her head falling back against Lux's chest. "Yes, J. You are gonna be just fine, Masyn said you look clear of infection." Jinx snorts, "No, I mean this. Being a mom." Lux smiles and kisses the top of her blue head. "Honey, you gonna be an amazing mom. This kid is gonna be so lucky and so loved." Jinx nods, and Lux can feel her crying softly. "Baby, what is it?" She brings her hands to Jinx's belly, rubbing gently. Jinx shakes as she says, "I just don't wanna mess them up. I don't wanna hurt them, like I hurt everyone else." Lux feels tears welling in her own eyes and quickly wipes them before saying, "You don't hurt everyone, you haven't hurt me. You haven't hurt May and her boys. You haven't hurt the kids at the orphanage. Jinx, since you've come to Demacia, all you've done is good." Jinx grabs her hand and brings a kiss to her fingers. Lux's heart skips a beat, and she lets it. She's been so reluctant to let herself fall for Jinx out of respect for Ekko, the father that the child will never meet. But, even though he's absent, she still couldn't bring herself to pursue Jinx. The way her bluenette talks about him...it's plain as day Jinx will always love him. But, the reality of the situation is that he's not here, and Lux loves Jinx, and that's that. She smiles and kisses Jinx's head one last time before helping her into the bathroom. They had a baby to deliver.

Lux watches off to the side of the tub feeling quite useless. Sure, she's the one holding Jinx's hand through her screams but other than that, there is nothing she can do. Masyn furrows her brow in concentration as she kneels in the small tub between Jinx's legs. After what feels like forever, she looks back up at her patient, "Ok, J, this is it, the head is out. One last push, girl!" Jinx grips Lux's hand with impossible strength and screams as she gives her last push. Lux counts in her head, and at four seconds, she hears the sound of a precious cry pierce the air. Jinx goes limp in the tub and Lux supports her head. She watches with wide eyes as Masyn pulls the baby out from between Jinx's thighs and hands them over to her. Jinx smiles tiredly, and holds her arms out. When she takes the baby in her arms and sees that it's a girl, she begins to sob. Lux feels tears streaming down her face at the sight in front of her; Jinx, holding her little girl and sobbing as she presses kisses to her little head and whispers "I love you's". Jinx presses her forehead to her little girls and says, "Mama's got you bug, I always got you." Lux leans forward and lets herself cry fully when she looks at the little girl; brown skin with a little tuft of blue hair. She had never seen a more precious baby. Lux presses a kiss to Jinx's forehead, then to her bare shoulder, "I'm so proud of you. Your so amazing." Jinx looks over at Lux, and she's never seen such a vibrant smile on the blue haired girls face, "Thanks, Sunshine. Your hand did pretty well as a stress reliever. Sorry bout that by the way." Lux smiled, "It's alright, honey. It was worth it."

After Masyn cuts the umbilical cord (which Jinx requested to keep, along with her placenta), Lux holds the baby while Jinx gets cleaned up by May. Thankfully, the girl is asleep because Lux doesn't know the first thing about baby's. She supposes Jinx has minimal experience too, except for her late daughter Isha. But Jinx said Isha was seven, that's much different than a newborn. They have Masyn to teach them though, so Lux thinks they'll be alright. When Masyn situates Jinx on the bed and throws a blanket on her, she immediately demands to have her daughter back. Lux chuckles as she brings the baby over to the bed and places her in her mothers arms. Masyn sits on the edge of the bed and asks, "What are you gonna name her?" Jinx smiles, "Felicity, after my mom." Lux and Masyn both coo and tell her how beautiful the name is. After a minute, Jinx giggles, "Hey, don't fancy people do like...middle names or something?" Masyn laughs, "Yeah, my sons middle names are Jenson and Hunt." Jinx smiles, a strange look crossing her face. "Well then, Violet will be her middle name." She smiled wider and kissed her daughters head, "Felicity Violet."

This was fun to write. I'm gonna be getting back to the main series but I was itching to do this.

Ngl, most of the stuff in the fic was inspired by my sisters birth (except Lux was a lot more calm than my sisters wife was during labor.) The whole infection thing because of water breaking too early is very real and did happen to my sister but... in a lot of cases it's actually not a big deal so I did milk that one a bit lol.

[olasketches]

So the fight is really over...my glorious four armed giant spider is gone. Yuji really was foreshadowing about the slime thingy heh. I'm so happy to see the trio back and together again like you tell me this a year ago this is what was going to happen and I'd just give you a maniacal laugh. But I still don't know how to feel about Sukuna's end like we all knew he was going to die and in perspective it does feels satisfying. Sukuna being ripped apart from Megumi and his little convo with Megumi...yeah dude really is walking contradiction. Always saying he's living to die but actually doesn't want to die. Indirectly answering Kashimo's question. But his end just seems...eh? Like at first Kenjaku's end seemed like that to me too but it made sense later on. Kenjaku came in silence and went like that but Sukuna he was never like Kenjaku or Mahito so his ending being parallel to Mahito didn't really sit right with me and i actually wanted him to get anything but a glorious death but this feels...stale somehow? Idk he's still the same untrue to himself. Wish we could get more of his thought process. Or maybe this was it to show Sukuna's denial became his defeat. I just hoped for more emotionally charged defeat of his..but it's GeGe story I'm happy they're telling it like they want to.

Also Uraume and Hakari was funny too they fought all this time bonded, praised and just dipped. Makes me think if they had a binding vow with Sukuna too? Sorry for all the yap and incoherence. I'm just feeling underwhelmed? Overwhelmed? what are your thoughts regarding this chapter and Suku's end?

"my glorious four armed giant spider is gone" took me out sksksksk he's really just a bug when you think about it lol.

anyway thank you for sending me your ask. I really liked reading your thoughts and how you called suku out for being contradictory and a hypocrite till the very end AS YOU SHOULD THANK YOU!! honestly, this fact alone makes the whole chapter all the more special to me but on this in a sec cause I'm guessing the reaction to his demise is quite... well I guess ppl are not really happy with it..??? I mean some of them probably are and by "some" I mean *cough, cough* the haters *cough, cough* but well... I wouldn't know cause ONE I'm actually (and maybe surprisingly) super pleased and satisfied with this chapter and TWO, I didn't go and check others reaction to it lol I'm planning to keep it that way for now. I'm really not a big fan of twt fandoms spaces in fact I can't stand them... too much negativity and toxicity *shudders*.

so my thoughts... to put it simply, I loved it more than loved it actually. and yeah yeah sure he turned into a slimy lil bug which probably put many people off but hey let's not forget sukuna was basically like a parasite possessing megumi's body, so it makes sense that once peeled off only curse-like residues would remain... but I can understand why some stans didn't like that part. I personally found funny but that's just me lol.

and yeah the final seemed quite underwhelming, but I think that's what makes it so good. I didn't want sukuna's death to be the most interesting thing about his character and well it's not. rather than having a big an "after life" moment like jogo, gojo or kashimo, he spent his last moments with the only person who cared about the human sukuna so stubbornly tried to burry inside him.

I actually found his conclusion to be quite beautiful and moving, cause instead of being looked down upon by yuuji as many stans thought would be the case, he was offered something else entirely. something no one ever gave him - kindness and love. yes, I'm using the "L" word here cause in the end that's what it was... yuuji showed sukuna the true value of love. he accepted him and ask him to live with him despite everything sukuna has put him through. despite all the chaos chaos and distraction he caused him, yuuji still accepted him. he not only showed sukuna genuine empathy and compassion but also recognised that sukuna is really... just like him. when yuuji looked into (blop) sukuna's eyes (my beloved) he could only see himself. he realised that under different circumstances, he could've turned out like sukuna if he didn't have his grandpa by his side. he realised that if he could have turned out like sukuna then sukuna could've turned out like him too, that if only sukuna had someone who loved him and guided him and accepted him, he most likely wouldn't have turned into a curse, which is another thing I loved and cry about in this chapter.

sukuna only saw himself as a curse :")). he acknowledged yuuji and finally called him by his full name but in the end he still only think of himself as a "curse" not as human, not even as a god or king of curses but only a curse :")).

the reason why I loved just how "underwhelming" his death felt like is because instead of framing and defining his entire character by his his final moments, gege made the rest of his moments in the manga stand out EVEN MORE. instead of having a moment of reflection and introspection in this chapter as well as in chapter 265 or 266... and oh well entire shinjiku showdown basically, his character started to trip and reveal just how contradictory he is. sukuna claimed he was satisfied with his life and doesn't care about dying, he also claimed he doesn't care about ideals and even despised them, he also claimed he doesn't feel anything and he doesn't need others to satisfy him and then you have all those small moments when you realise "wait, that is not right" and you look back and rethink everything. sukuna does feel and he NEEDS others to satisfy him, cause that's what his entire "philosophy" hinges on.

"Every human has a unique and fleeting taste... which makes devouring them a perfect way to pass time until death"

he DID get excited when maki became the first person to ever give him a role

This is a first. You're the only one who ever forced a role upon me. (while grinning like a maniac)

and then megumi lied his bs out in the open and revealed that sukuna was afraid of death too, despite believing otherwise

Even something like you fears death...

this only goes to show that sukuna convinced himself (and many other readers) that he is not human, that he is above that, that he doesn't care about the things they do... but if even "something like him" feared death, got excited to be given a role, praised and encouraged others for their talents and skills and connected to them in one way another only to "pass time" or knew about flowers and caught a crayfish then that means... he must be human too.

and even if sukuna and the rest of the world couldn't and didn't want to accept that, there was one person who did. someone sukuna hurt the most, someone who saw him at his worst and at his weakest. someone who in the end still decided to show him love, because he belived sukuna is still worthy of love, despite everyone and maybe even sukuna himself, believing that he no longer is worthy of such thing.

"Even if no one else will accept you... I'll live with you" "Itadori Yuuji... don't underestimate me. I'm... a "curse"!