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the-raven-lady · 4 months ago

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(Not) The Savior You Long For [Part 1]

[Masterlist] [My Ko-Fi]

Pairing: Night Lord (OC: Elias Rushorik) x serf!Reader [fem]

Song Inspiration: Fear Inoculum - TOOL [YouTube] [Spotify] “Enumerate all that I'm to do / Calculating steps away from you / My own mitosis / Growing through delusion from mania / Exhale, expel / Recast my tale / Weave my allegorical elegy.”

Warnings: Violence, explicit and detailed blood and gore, disgusting and disturbing imagery, terror and dread, fear of death, all of the warnings you should expect hearing the words ‘Night Lord’ bestie this is the “I love murder” legion.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: The long awaited Night Lord claiming + womb tattoo series. This part is primarily exposition and setting the scene. Also new dividers? Raven Lady's getting fancy.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Tag List: @egrets-not-regrets @sleepyfan-blog @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @bispecsual

@lemon-russ @moodymisty @dedios-of-the-word @pickpocketing-your-gender

The slosh of brown water on the floor splashes away from your washcloth, and you overextend your shoulder trying to catch it before it runs too far. Hissing at the sudden spasm, you sit back on your heels, rolling it out to soothe the ache. You’ve been on your hands and knees for what feels like far too long now, and your joints are starting to protest. It seems the other serf helping you isn’t faring much better. A glance in her direction reveals her sitting like a child, knees bent and feet flat on the floor, using the full weight of her body to scrub between the seams of the floor panels. You shake your head and return to pushing around the rusty water, struggling to remove the grime from the floor.

The act was pointless. Everyone knew that it wouldn’t be another week before the armory would be so rancid with dried bodily fluids that a cleanup crew would have to scrub it down again, but you knew better than to make a comment on it.

The racket of raucous laughter nearby shoots ice through your veins. You and the other serf instinctually freeze at the sound, and it doesn’t even cross your mind to check on her before abandoning your post, scrambling off of the wet floor in a flash to hide behind a large crate. The cold metal at your back would shield you from view, you know, but the hammering in your chest and shuddering of your breath would be beacons for a bored astartes. Silently, you will yourself to calm down at any cost, holding your breath for so long your lungs begin to burn from the effort.

Their heavy footfalls eventually fade into the distance, off to another area of the ship. Still, you remain in place for another few minutes until you’re as certain as you’ll ever be that they’re gone. You dare not risk yourself getting caught by a group of Night Lords, if experience has taught you anything.

You’ve become jaded to the rags of tanned hide displayed proudly on their armor and the grotesque corpse art that lines the walls of Nightfall. The smell doesn’t even get to you anymore, having been surrounded by abundant death and decay for so long. Everything reeks of it. Even if you did take the time to think on the dreadful feelings that stir when you see them, your body wouldn’t be able to afford losing any more meals with how sparingly you’ve been fed.

What has never left you are the screams. The gush of blood pouring from a weeping laceration. The crack of breaking bones. Desperate cries from the poor targets of the Night Lord’s insatiable appetite for ‘entertainment’, sobs and begs for their lives— No, no, no, please! I’ll do anything, please, just let me go–!— eventually turning into pleas to be put out of their misery, shown mercy, as their captors only laugh and croon. No mercy flowed through them; they were never quick with their kills. It was all a sadistic game to feed off of the tears and terror for as long as they could. The Night Lords wouldn’t stop their fun until their playthings had been bled dry– literally or figuratively.

You peek out from around the crate, surveying the dim armory. Empty.

The serf you had been working with was missing as well, likely sequestered off somewhere for safety. The utter silence of the room causes your gut to tremble with anxiety. It was a dangerous game to be alone: lone serfs were prime prey, and you by no means wanted to make yourself an easy target.

With no small amount of horror, you realize it’s outside of your power to do anything about it. Your lungs deflate, and you give yourself a false reassurance before returning to your station on the floor, taking up the soiled wash rag and wringing it out into the water bucket. Pieces of slimy rehydrated skin pass over your fingers. You return to your efforts with the intent to finish as quickly as possible. The desire to flee to your cot is all-encompassing, driving you to redouble your efforts and get the job done just passably enough that you won’t be killed for it.

A thought stops you, though. Where had your companion gone? It’s not that you particularly cared for her safety (you didn’t know her and caring is a luxury you could not afford), but to be gone without a trace was peculiar. You don’t remember hearing her footsteps, but you had also been preoccupied with yourself at the time.

You look around the empty room for anything out of place. Nothing appears to have moved since you last checked. Her brush and bucket are still on the floor, right where she had left them. You had seen her put them down there, right?

…Hadn’t you?

You dismiss the thought. She was probably still hiding somewhere, and for that, you couldn’t fault her. There was no loyalty amongst serfs of the Eighth, just an understanding that it was safer together than apart. Wanting to determine how much longer you would be here, you observe the areas the other serf had already worked.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The surfaces of the floors, storage units, and walls were visibly much cleaner than the rest, but she had done a horrible job wiping things down as she went. The steady dripping of a poorly dried surface unpleasantly fills your ears, slowly becoming the only thing you can focus on. You frown. It was amazing how you could begin to miss the ever-present dull thrum of the ship’s electrical systems when it was covered by something even slightly more annoying.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

You shake your head and get back to working around the floor grate at the center of the room. Its placement makes it convenient to push the disgusting wash water into. As expected, the seams around the drain are compacted with hair and dried flesh, and you have to soak the mass to begin to scrape it free. The spongy texture is a nightmare to work with, but it wouldn’t be such a chore if you had some help.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Annoyed, you decide you’ve had enough of it. Water sloshes in the bucket when you wrench your washcloth to go wipe down whatever it is she had left unfinished, rising up to your feet. With some luck, you’d figure out where she had run off to. It wouldn’t come as a surprise if she had abandoned you altogether, leaving you to finish the task and fend for yourself.

A cursory glance over the bench, lockers, and racks reveals nothing out of the ordinary. They were passably clean and– perplexingly– completely dry. You ran a hand along them to be certain and, surely enough, it came away much the same. Odd. You were certain that you would find something. Continuing your search leaves more questions than answers.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Checking around a wall of storage cabinets, you carefully inspect each of the gaps for signs of water or some other liquid that could be leaking. You find nothing.

At the end of the lockers, a shadow dances in the dim candlelight. Fear grips you for just a moment as you focus in on it, but it is much too small to be an astartes. At the realization, the chill in your blood is replaced with a simmer of frustration, and you stomp down the hall towards the figure.

Your eyes lock with the other serf’s. “Are you just hiding to–?”

You stop. It appears she had been too preoccupied with hanging from a bracket on the wall to come to your aid. The side of her neck is torn open with loose strips of muscle and connective tissue fanning over her shoulder. A glistening metal finial of Nostraman design pokes ornately through her spine and sternum, partially coagulated blood pooling at the tip.

Drip.

“About time,” a voice spits.

You’re suddenly dragged by the back of your robes, hoisted up into the air by an unseen force. The scream that leaves you tears at your vocal cords, but it’s choked off by the fabric of your neckline biting into your throat. Thrashing your head from side to side, you catch sight of a colorless face cackling, bloodied lips curled into a grin. You desperately kick your legs in an attempt to free yourself.

“Feisty little pet, aren’t we?” he asks. The Night Lord turns you around easily as you struggle, splitting red as he talks. “Good. Your friend was far more boring.”

You rake at the fabric around your neck, trying to alleviate the pressure preventing oxygen from getting to your head. The action only makes him laugh harder. “Oh, how precious. Poor little serf can’t breathe?” He tilts his head as he taunts you, and a cruel glint crosses his eye.

“How about I help with that?”

A half turn and your back slams against the wall, knocking the wind out of your lungs. Your gasp of pain ignites a malicious glee within your captor, a row of bloodied yellow teeth peeking from behind his lips. At least like this, pinned to the wall, you have the ability to catch your breath, ragged and shallow. Each rough huff eases the ache in your diaphragm.

A hand roughly snaps your head forward, forcing you to focus on the face at your front. He suffocates you with his presence, leaning in far too close. “You know,” he starts, “I had been just about ready to walk in there and drag you out myself.” Despite the melodic quality of his voice, you only feel discomfort at the astartes’s words as he uningenuously laments. “I could only stare at my masterpiece for so long.”

Briefly, your eyes linger on the silhouetted corpse of the other chapter serf. You hadn’t even heard her scream. Hadn’t heard the attack. Hadn’t heard the bones crack when she was unceremoniously mounted on the wall. You had managed to miss every detail.

…Or your captor had been skilled enough to mask them. You shiver.

He follows your gaze, scoffing when it lands on the body. “Your buddy is as pretty as she is stupid, trying to run all the way back to the hole you serfs call home.” The image of the other serf running down the hallway and getting caught as you did passes through your mind, and you grimace at the thought of whatever game she may have suffered through to end up where she is. The sing-song cadence of his voice draws your attention back to the Night Lord in front of you, “You humans fall so easily to your emotions. Not the brightest of you lot I’ve had, but certainly the best bait.”

Bait. The word is sour in the air.

“So unwilling to have fun–”

She had just been bait.

“–but you’re eager to play, aren’t you?”

You were the game.

Your blood runs cold, eyes widening as you process everything you had missed or ignored up until now. Black blurs the edges of your vision. “Oh, don’t be like that,” the Night Lord shakes his head, but you know better than to believe it. This is exactly what he wanted. “We can be great friends—”

Self-preservation takes a hold of you. Your adrenalized brain screams to overcome, persist. In an act of desperation, your hands shoot out before you, and you manage to jab your fingers into his dark eyes and claw. The astartes snarls, ducking away and dragging you with him off of the wall as he stumbles back. With a shake of his head, he regains his senses. He growls.

“You stupid bitch!”

The Night Lord tosses you like a ragdoll, uncaring of how your head impacts the nearby bench before hitting the floor. The world spins around you. “I’ll gut you like a pig for that, you impudent rat!” he roars, ceramite boots stomping closer. His eyes are wild, red around his enlarged pupils from where you’ve managed to burst blood vessels. Uncoordinated, you scramble backwards on the floor, staring up at the approaching astartes in terror.

This is it. This is where you die: surrounded by filth, hyperventilating on the floor as a pissed off Night Lord tortures you within an inch of your life until you perish from the stress. All for one measly act of courage. Your back hits a wall as he rounds the bench, and you find yourself unable to watch any longer as fate unfolds before you. You curl up in a ball, turning away and protecting your head with your arms, then wait for the inevitable killing strike.

And wait.

…And wait.

But the blow never comes– no white-hot stab of pain, no sting of a kick to the ribs, no blunt ache of broken bones– just a sickeningly sodden crunch of flesh and bone. A wet spray paints your back. Your tattered robes easily soak up the warm liquid, causing you to flinch from the sudden moisture. Even through the rush of confusion and fear, it doesn’t take you long to realize what it is. The scent is unmistakable.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you struggle to catch up with your surroundings. By all means, you should be dead: the newest addition to a Night Lord’s skin cloak, or at the very least in excruciating pain. But you aren’t.

Tentatively, trembling, you withdraw your head from the cage of your arms, turning just enough to peer behind you. You gasp at the grisly sight.

Crimson rivulets of blood drip down over massive navy blue gauntlets. A single enucleated eye dangles from the gore between its digits. The terminator, more mountain than man, holds the unmoving body of your persecutor up by what remains of his cranium and neck. It is little more than ribbons of meat now.

Bile rises in your throat. You struggle to force it back down.

Bolted armor caked in blood– both dried and fresh, sunken deep into the recesses of the ceramite plating– gives off an aura of wrought iron and decay. The metallic tang permeates the air around him, hanging heavy in the poorly ventilated armory. His scarred skin looks sickly pale. Greasy. Dehydrated. Aside from deep black eyes that watch you as a predator observes prey, the most prominent feature on his face is a wicked scar: a tear in his upper lip that exposes maxilla and sharp teeth alike. The shock of black hair on his head still has the impression of his helmet on it.

Without so much as a sound, he had come up from behind and grabbed the smaller Night Lord by the face, yanking them back into the crux of his chestplate and pauldron with enough force to shatter the hardened skull of an astartes.

The massive marine throws the limp corpse of his former brother aside. The impact of metal on metal causes your ears to ring as a thousand pounds of lifeless ceramite strikes the wall, immediately followed by a disgusting wet slop of pulverized brain matter spilling onto the floor. If you had been on the Nightfall for any less time, you would have screamed. The shock almost prevents you from registering that you’re being spoken to.

“Get up.”

The terminator’s voice is that of rolling thunder and coarse gravel, resonating deep within your chest and leaving your heart fluttering with trepidation. His words had been spoken no louder than conversational, and yet they had you shooting up to your feet as if they had been shouted. Your wobbly legs nearly give out beneath you from how quickly you rise from the floor, croaking a shaky, “Yes, my lord.”

He removes his helmet from where it is magnetized to his belt with a click, placing it down on the bench you had been cowering behind. The tusks on it are as long as your forearm and nearly as thick. A faint decal of a skull is painted around the red lenses, chipped and fading but almost cartoonishly cute in contrast to the rags of flesh and weathered bones decorating the rest of his armor.

The new Night Lord doesn’t seem to find it nearly as amusing as you do. He pushes the helmet in your direction, and you clamber to catch it before it hits the ground, not wanting to incur his wrath by dropping it so soon after he had just saved your life. The metal is heavy in your arms, tusks dangerously close to puncturing your throat.

“Clean it,” he barks.

You grab your wash rag from the floor and shake it out. You do not have to be told twice.

[Part 2]

#there will be smut eventually #i did not and will not pull any punches on this one you have been WARNED #using my questionable life experience to make a good dark fic #enjoy you filthy sinners #night lord #night lords #night lord x reader #warhammer fanfic #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #horus heresy #warhammer 40k x reader #wh 40k #oc: elias rushorik #raven lady writings

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earthstellar · 10 months ago

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Just jolted awake at 5 AM to share this idea lmao:

Cosmic Storm: Accidental Alt-Mode Swap Scenario

Some kind of cosmic electrical storm hits the Lost Light and everyone switches alt-modes

They can't figure out how this is even possible, best they can figure is that one of the waves of cosmic electricity rolled over the ship and bypassed their shields enough to affect the crew, just this huge arc of space electricity scrambling everyone all at once

And as it arcs from crew member to crew member (and zaps the shit out of the ship too), somehow this messes with everyone's systems enough that their t-cogs all attempt to reboot while everyone is still connected by the cosmic storm energy

Which results in everyone's t-cogs getting alt-mode data confused, as everyone simultaneously tries to stabilise their systems by purging stored energy so they don't get fried, so because they're all connected by this singular pulse of space bullshit it's like one massive accidental transfer of spark energy, personal systems data, and cosmic electroshock

It's 5 AM sorry if I'm not explaining this very well LOL

But nobody dies, and their systems actually seem to be relatively OK afterwards as far as they can tell, so nobody actually realises there's a problem until First Aid and/or Ratchet asks everyone to book in follow up appointments for full systems checks just to be sure

And as part of checking t-cog function whoever the first patient of the day is gets asked to transform briefly as part of a physical exam designed to help spot any non-critical t-cog damage

And there's no t-cog damage, not to the t-cog itself. Scans come back okay, everything looks good, so OK, time to proceed with the transformation test. Root mode to alt-mode, and then back to root mode.

If the t-cog and associated systems are functional, it should be pretty straightforward.

And the bot does successfully transform...

..Just, into the wrong alt-mode.

And immediately, The Problem Of The Day becomes clear.

Gradually people around the ship figure it out on their own as well, while the Med Bay staff are trying to figure out what the fuck is going on

Over in the Science Lab, Perceptor is messaging Ratchet frantically because he's realised the problem as soon as he tried to switch into his alt-mode to study some samples of a metal panel from the ship which has some damage from the cosmic electricity and uh oh turns out he's a fucking helicopter now

It's a problem that also alters their root modes, but only after their first transformation post-space storm. Something fully triggers whatever is wrong with their t-cog data only once they enter alt-mode, their root modes then re-configure to accommodate these changes following that initial "wrong" transformation sequence.

They have their own colours, their paint nanites etc. remain the same as always, but their modes have changed. So they get any kibble etc. that might come with that new alt-mode.

So Brainstorm goes to pick up some energon for both of them, then comes back and Perceptor suddenly has rotors and holy shit

Eventually everyone on board figures out something weird/potentially bad is happening with their t-cogs. Some people are too scared to test it and find out, while others immediately can't resist their curiosity or think it's better to figure out as soon as possible so they can adapt, and test it as soon as they hear some bots are just turning into completely different things, totally reconfigured.

This could be fun, also sort of terrifying (there is potential for body horror to some degree), and either way it's chaos.

When Drift triggers his alt-mode, he turns into a cat-- Seems like he's got Ravage's t-cog data. Nobody can find Ravage, and Megatron makes it clear that he'll be the only one to attempt to find him.

Rodimus turns into some kind of aqueous vehicle. Maybe Camien in origin. (Turns out it's Nautica's t-cog data.) He's fine with it as soon as he realises he's space flight capable for short distances and Magnus has to talk him out of trying to race the ship.

Of course, because it's Nautica's t-cog data, when he reverts back to root mode, he has a distinctly femme Camien-style frame. He loves it, because his armour isn't as heavy in this form, so he can go faster. (Once this is all over, he is strongly considering keeping some of these femme frame alterations...)

And if you want to use this as a setup for any shipping, yes indeed, some bots inevitably try to test out their newly altered frames with their partners or amicas. (The medical staff all advise against this because oh god nobody knows all the functions of their new systems yet, please do not end up in the Med Bay with "makeout related injuries" they are dealing with so much right now LOL)

Anyway my moving date is 25/01 but as soon as I'm settled into my new place I might turn this into a fic if I have time lmao

#rodimus #idw 1 #idw transformers #mtmte #lost light #maccadam #maccadams #idw drift #idw ratchet #megatron #perceptor #idw brainstorm #idw nautica #transformers #idw ravage #simpatico

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damned-punk · 11 months ago

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A Little Visit (Captain Kidd x Reader)

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Content Warning: nsfw, oral sex (f! receiving), kissing, masturbation

Content Description: afab!reader decides to visit Kidd in his workshop during a boring day at sea and things get physical ♡

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It had been a rather calm day at sea, especially by the standards of the Victoria Punk, which led to the Captain tinkering away in his workshop. You couldn’t deny the feelings you had for him, but his position as your Captain complicated things. It never seemed to be the right time to approach him and there was certainly never a great time to talk things over. Building up courage and resolving to take advantage of today’s uneventful opportunities, you approached his door. You hadn’t worked out what you wanted to say or if you even wanted to get into everything at this very moment, but you knew you wanted to see him and that was reason enough to indulge in your thoughts.

You knocked a few times to let him know you were coming in but you expected no response. When he was locked in on a project, there was very little that could pry him away from his tools. This time was no different but you were caught off guard a bit when you saw him draped over an indecipherable hunk of metal parts, shirtless with toned muscles and garish scars glistening from a sheen of fresh sweat. His hair was loose over his forehead as his goggles sat in their intended position over his eyes. You had to stifle a giggle when you noticed he was wearing a glove on his remaining hand which was a fashionable choice against his largely unprotected torso.

“What in the hell could you possibly be doing that requires gloves but no shirt?”, you teased, hoping he was in a playful mood so he wouldn’t kick you out.

“Like what you see sweetheart?”, he teased back and while you were grateful he played into it, the sudden red flush of your cheeks ruined your chance at a poker face.

You weren’t sure of what to say, so you shook your head and closed the door behind you. He kept on with his tools for a moment, the pink dusting across his cheeks going entirely unnoticed as he turned in a way that shielded his face from view. You took a seat on the top of one of his workbenches and glanced around at the various creations scattered about the room. Just as you picked up an articulated wrench to play with, he slid his goggles back onto his head, removed the glove, and wiped his face with a rag as he approached you.

“Alright, what in the hell d’ya need this time?”, his words were rough but you knew it was all in good fun.

“Nothing in particular…”, after putting some thought into what else to say, you let the words fall from your lips despite the fact that there was no turning back once they were said, “I suppose I just wanted to come see you.”

The mood was too perfect and the environment afforded no distractions from an interaction that needed to happen. His height was exacerbated due to your position on the table and something about being even smaller in his presence was flustering you to the point that the air in the room grew awkward. Even with his inflated ego being the size of the ship itself and his confidence being a strong contender, he struggled when it came to you. Of course he felt the same but he wasn’t really good at vocalizing intimate feelings. He was a man of action, not so much of words.

He closed the space between the two of you and rested his hands on the table at your sides, he was giving you the opportunity to take it to the next step. If you could’ve been in his position, you’d likely laugh at how nervous he was. It felt like he was a damn teenage girl and couldn’t stop himself from getting jittery. Your face was inches from his own and despite the fact that he was the notoriously violent Eustass Captain Kidd, his soft spot was on full display just for you.

“Well, I’m right here…”, his voice was much deeper, more sincere than before and seemed to be laced with hints of desire.

You leaned up and just barely brushed the tip of your nose against his. He wasn’t sure of what to do, especially considering that the very minimal physical contact was already causing him to become warm below the waist. There was a fine line between playful flirting and genuine emotional connection. This game of push and pull had gone on long enough and he knew that if things didn’t work out he’d obviously retain his position as Captain, but his worries were substantiated when considering what would happen with you. Would you be able to fall in line under him as a member of his crew after something like that? He certainly couldn’t handle you leaving, the weight of never seeing you again was too daunting to even consider as a possibility. He’d been through that once, never again. Maybe he was over complicating this whole thing.

But it didn’t matter anymore, especially not when you lifted your hands to rest on his chest. Your eyes bore into his own and provided such a sense of security that he resolved to finally press his painted lips to yours. He’d wanted to do this for so long and the feeling was surprisingly comforting. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip and wasted no time in deepening the kiss as you parted your lips for him. Your hands had made their way to his dampened hair, gently tugging to signify you needed some air.

He pulled away and admired the smears he’d left behind, splotches of his favorite shade accentuating your puffy lips. As you averted your gaze from his with a flushed face, he knew what you were thinking. He didn’t want to rush you into going all the way, especially not in this very tender moment, but he couldn’t deny that he yearned for more physical contact. Kidd placed a few kisses to your cheeks and gradually made his way to your neck. He sucked and nipped in all the right places leaving you with a warm feeling all over.

“Do you trust me?”, he whispered into your ear as he massaged the plush of your thighs.

“Of course I do, Captain.”, you shakily answered back, admiring his pleased expression as he stood up to retrieve his fuzzy coat.

He positioned the coat behind you in a way that provided you with support as he coaxed you to lay back against his workbench. He removed the goggles from his head and made sure to lock the door before devoting all of his attention back to you.

“I wanna show you how I feel about you…”, he pulled a chair up to the workbench and sat himself down, placing his hand on your hip where he began playing with the waistband of your pants.

As he gently tugged off your bottoms with ease, embarrassment began to over shadow your presence in the moment. You knew he wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t want to but it was something new that you hadn’t ever experienced with him. Kidd hadn’t even seen you without a shirt on and now he’d be seeing the most nerve wracking area a person could ever show their partner. He recognized that you were struggling with the situation and gave you a reassuring smile as he admired your mostly exposed body.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about sweetheart. I’m right here… if anything feels wrong or you wanna stop, just let me know.”, he started kissing up your legs and the anticipation of what was to come filled your mind.

He positioned each of your legs to rest over his shoulders and pressed light kisses to your sex. His teasing didn’t last long as he was becoming impatient with his own ministrations. His warm, wet tongue danced along your folds and mixed with your own slick to elicit a symphony of erotic sounds in the room. As he worked to build up your arousal, he began sucking your clit and moaned when your nails scratched at his scalp. A repetitive smacking noise began to sound from below you and when it dawned on you what was making the noise, you felt a tightness clamp in your belly. Kidd was pumping himself as he coated his senses in you. The intensity of this little visit was growing exponentially, your mind practically swimming with the realization that he was getting off on pleasuring you.

“Captain… K-Kidd…”, you moaned out to him which only riled him up further, his pace becoming audibly faster.

You could tell he was close to his own orgasm as he stabilized himself using his prosthetic on the edge on the table. You weren’t far behind, especially with his chin pressed flush against your opening, unrelentingly sucking on your most sensitive spot. When you felt him shiver under your legs, you unbuckled beneath him and came in his mouth. He peppered kisses all over your wet pussy as you rode out your high and made quick work slipping your bottoms on, pulling you into his lap to relax after such strenuous activity. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, him turning your head to face him when your breathing stabilized.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself…”, Kidd kissed you once on the lips and playfully attacked your face with small pecks.

“You’re such a nerd.”, you teased him while resting your head on his shoulder, “I hope you enjoyed yourself, Captain.”

Just as Kidd sucked in a breath to respond, the jiggling of the door handle and loud banging on the door made you jump. You frantically began rubbing the red smudges from your mouth causing Kidd to cackle, his own disheveled appearance would give you away irregardless of your actions.

“Dinner’s ready!”, Killer’s voice yelled from outside, the locked handle telling him everything he needed to know.

“Let’s eat…”, Kid spoke, causing you to huff lightly as the two of you stood and adjusted yourselves for dinner, “Y’know princess, you could sit on my lap in the dinning hall if you want.”

“Yeah… I hear ya.”, you teased, following him out the door whilst mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of comments awaiting you from crewmates who definitely noticed the two of you exiting his workshop together.

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#eustass kid #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #captain kid #kidd x reader #Captain Kidd x reader #kid pirates #anime

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thisisnotthenerd · 7 months ago

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justification below the cut because it got long but is probably valid to read before you answer anyway:

battle of the brands:

the gunner channel are a 6-person party with the assistance of a large creature/mount (aurora nebbins, CR 3). while they are level three in terms of ship deployment, they are not using those skills in this encounter.

at this point they were level five. they had access to third level spells for the spellcasters, extra attacks for the gunners, uncanny dodge for skip and multitasker for margaret.

they had the opportunity to shop for items before the encounter: this included shield generators, armor, lots of grenades, new weapons, extra psychodrones, and critically, the charge fragmentation used in operation slippery puppet

they were fighting in the battle of the brands-- a free-for-all against other brand champions in an arena with a significant drop; one of the win conditions against each opponent was sending them over the edge to suffer max falling damage.

objectives: fulfilling their contract with acme-ashmun as brand ambassadors, surviving the fight, and defeating the other brand champions

they faced four opponents: smaggy squirrel, brobbin bunny, brutus the corn brutie, and the triangle mint plinth.

smaggy squirrel and brobbin bunny were at the very least 9th level rogues--this puts them at a CR 5

the plinth was a homebrewed statblock--i evaluated it at a CR 14, similar to an elder brain.

brutus the corn brutie was based on an adult green dragon, at a CR 15.

if we go by XP with no multipliers, they would get 28100 for the encounter. well into deadly, with an overall encounter CR of 22.

the last stand:

the bad kids are a 6-person party with the assistance of 4 CR 1/2 summons (mephits) and 2 CR 3 mounts (daymare and hangman)

at this point they are level 13. they have access to 7th level spells for the full casters, paladin smites and functional smites (fandrangor), 7d6 of sneak attack, and the new barbificer subclass, which allows non-concentration spells to be held while raging

they also have access to many magical items: the infaethable bass, the heavy metal ax, the sword of sight (sword of the elven oracle), fandrangor (sword of the elven kings), the teddy bear of helpfulness, the sword of shadows and arquebus, all of which grant unique abilities, including +5 to performance and retaliatory damage, crits on 19 and 20 and max damage to objects, bonus action divination cantrips granting the dodge action (true strike), added d6s of damage using spell slots, the ability to hold multiple concentration spells, misty step, magical tranq, net, and signal flare bullets.

they were fighting in the last stand; a simultaneous academic exam and fight against an endless horde of monsters.

objectives: answering questions correctly, protecting the proctor, and lasting as long as possible. the bad kids were granted a preparation round for spellcasting and ability activation and a surprise round on the first wave of creatures. read my notes here for their academic preparation.

they faced a total of 39 opponents of varying CRs. these are sorted below into the waves that the bad kids faced them in.

first wave: otyugh (CR 5), 3 ochre jellies (CR 2), gorgon (CR 5), hydra (CR 8), 8 skeletons (CR 1/4), and a mimic (CR 2)

second wave: manticore (CR 3), shrimp dragon (CR 7), roper (CR 5), umber hulk (CR 5), and 8 stirges (CR 1/4)

third wave: wyvern (CR 6), crab man (CR 5), 8 rust monsters (CR 1/2), pentacorn (CR 6), and a purple worm (CR 15)

if we go by XP with no multipliers, they would get 37500 for the encounter. well into deadly, with an overall encounter CR of 27.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #battle of the brands #the last stand #the gunner channel #the bad kids #a starstruck odyssey #fantasy high junior year #d20 #dimension 20 meta #thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats #battle episode of all time #fantasy high #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #fantasy high spoilers #d20 fhjy #d20 poll

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nekassvariigs · 2 years ago

Note

Shanks, mihawk with an s/o who is secretly very strong like y/n can be getting yelled at and she doesn't do anything and if y/n is in danger she was always saved.but this time Y/N kinda just snapped like she made a whole bloodbath

(its a bit harder to write some gore for mihawk since the man is known not to go looking for trouble so this was my best idea for him)

Shanks

he's seen you loose your shit once but he was still suspicious that it wasn't your full extent of emotions.

Shanks had a bone to pick with a certain crew for a long time however it wasnt until the bastards showed up trying to put holes in his ship that he began getting really upset with them.

"Duck!" he'd jesture for you to evade the oncoming attack knowing fully well you liked when he showed up in a blaze of glory to save your ass.

And so, you stood there waiting for the blade to strike you to feel the sting of ripping skin and yet nothing, a strong clash of metal echoed before you Shank's sword glistened in the sunlight his aura irreversably tense.

"I told you to duck, it's the last time i'm doing this." his usually soothing voice came off as an abrupt shout at you, his eyes never looking near you as he plunged the sword in the man before him.

Truth be told that ruined the picture perfect moment of saving the underdog and left you feeling bitter.

Without a warning the body he shielded with his own was long gone when he tried taking a step back to guard you from the fallen man. He looked around for you as if you had dissapeared in thin air, a loud trail of groans and painful whimpers clouded his ears as he looked forward to the sight before him.

They didn't aim to be killing anyone, however it seemed the battle had reached its peak, the floorboards creeked under your weight, the sound of bodies collapsing in loud thuds only reassured Shanks' earlier doubts about you.

You lay upon a pile of men their blood trickling down in an upsetting and horrid manner, Shanks' was stunned to say the least, he thought of you as a powerful fighter but even this beat what he had in mind.

You sat there a trail of steam forming from your breath in the cold air, nothing in your body moved, only the rise of your chest as you took deeps breaths.

There was a slight klinch behind Shanks a gust of wind going upwards as someone reached behind him their sword drawn with a coarse battlecry.

He looked at you confidently making a split second decision to see what kind of beast truly lays under this calm facade you've always put up.

In a seconds notice the strong gust of wind from your body making its way past him sent his red hair sweeping across his face. With a proud smirk he looked past his shoulders, your sword seethed in its place the man before you already out cold in his own blood.

Before he got a word in you were already gone onto the next leaving a wake of men shouting for their crew to leave before theyre all dead.

He chuckles with new found confidance in you albeit the dripping blood that neared his shoes made him realise he might need to interferre with you personally.

Your heart was in no way weak of will yet the moment he used his Haki on you left you with a stumble to your step. His gaze was certain without a mistake he was ordering for you to stop, the battle was over they had lost and you had won, so theres no more need for you to slash through even half awake bodies.

Your eyes met his in an instant the sour urge for blood had dissapated, you sighed, a long drag to seethe your sword for the last time you walked to gaze over at the sea. There were no birds in sight only a pair of sea kings leaping through the deep sea waters.

Shanks came to stand beside you his arms hovering over the end of the ship he spoke up.

"Didn't know we kept a beast locked up for so long." he laughed the pleasant roar of his chest made even you smirk under your composure.

Mihawk

He's a man who goes out at sea only when necessary therefore hes had his fair share of witnessing you fall helplessy many times.

He nearly pities you, your way of fighting was ineffective against most who've went through the basics of swordsmanship. His constant passive insults seemed to build up in your head, his judgemental stare each time you fell down, the coldness in his eyes as he retorts to how you should work on your balance as he steps over to shield you from an attack.

Well theres a time for everything.

He agreed to take you along on one of his voyages you were standing behind him the entire time watching how the water spilled over his makeshift raft.

"Try not to fall." He spoke up clutching his black sword over his shoulder eyes pointing over to the ship before him.

It was rare when he decided to dock the ships he passed however since you were with him he wanted to see if you improved atleast a bit.

Much to his surprise a clash of green swiped past his face, it wasn't an attack he insinuated and yet it it sliced the ship clean.

He watched at the sight before him, the massive ship splitting open as it held no common ground to steady its split parts.

You walked before him and without explanation started throwing long range attacks, he stepped back a foot, his plan to passivley scold you had been taken out of the books.

He was notcing your footwork, your stance and breathing. There had been no flaws in it which left him questioning if it all had been a fluke this entire time. He watched you swing your sword in everywhich direction which made it painfully obvious you were aiming at something to be hit and yet what caught his eye was your concentration and the blood thirsty aroua around you, you were allowing no mistakes to be made.

The way you changed the angle of your attack as if you sensed someones movement on the ship, landing throws wasn't random anymore it had a purpose even he didn't see.

He was beginning to wonder when did you have the time for training with how busy he liked keeping you.

You quickly ended your attacks throwing your sword over your shoulder. In a moment of silence and crashing waves a chorus of pained wails was heard.

It had to be one of the most eerie sounds he's ever heard on the open sea as his eyes windened to the sound his scowl growing a bit more dense he kept looking between you and the now collapsed ship.

He was heavily intrigued his eyes told that much.

When you turned around nothing prepared for the total calmness he felt over the eased look in your eyes, however the glint that shined within them spoke volumes of how much expetise you had.

"Fight me." He spoke calmly haven't witnessed a power like his in a while, the water before his raft floating with debris and unmistakenly blood from the men you had attacked. You smiled at his request the two of your shared little to no place for footwork and his sword was long enough to reach the other end of his raft.

He wasnt sure if it was an intimidation tactic but the way you dipped your sword in the blody water to let it drip on his raft left him a little on the edge.

After reaching a draw he sat back, his large black hat tipping over his eyes he told you "Why have you been fighting like a newborn chick?"

You caught your breath sitting down before him on the raft you spoke with your sword resting on your shoulder. "You've never asked to fight seriously." a chuckle from you made him feel like a bit of an idiot, perhaps he should have challenged you sooner or atleast once told you to fight like it meant your life.

He sighed noticing a mark on his boot, it had been cut, not enough to fully cut through but enough to leave a mean scuff on it, no doubt your doing.

He stared long at the mark until you reached your destination, his eyes boring into the back of your skull as you offered him your presance. He had lost the duel without noticing, you left the scuff there to show him he needed not to underestimate you.

The following ride back he continued to slash his sword at you in moments where you werent paying attention, watching how effortlesly you doged his attacks you warned him "If you're attacking me, aim to kill me." You smiled with a twisted twinkle in your eyes, and he did as you said slashing true his blade left a soft incision over your cheek, payback for his scuffed boot.

#onepiece #one piece fanfiction #onepiece x reader #one piece #shanks x reader #one piece shanks #shanks request #onepiece dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece reader insert

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simp-ly-writes · 4 months ago

Text

The City

─────── · · THE SERIES: PART TWO

PAIRING: Enver Gortash x fem!Reader, Wyll Ravengard x fem!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Across the seas you are studying to finally cement yourself as a high lady and 'worthy' of being beside the Duke's son in the publics eye. Yet as time slips through your fingers, and you have had no word from your lover- a face from the past decides to make their presence known once more after going through hell.

─ · · WARNINGS: contract marriage, child abuse, bullying, anxiety attacks flashbacks, overall angst with fluff

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,000

─ · · A/N: I have to start making chapters shorter- my computer begs me.

─────── · ·

“Anger, resentment and jealousy doesn't change the heart of others-- it only changes yours.”

Shannon Alder

─────── · ·

When Gortash resurfaced, contract burned to the ground and an echoing voice shattered his mind with great ill intentions. He listened to the life the voices promised, that he realised he wished upon himself and strived to mould it into reality. Taking back to the Lower City and its sewers, his heart felt heavy with memories that the voices dampened with his mission they provided.

He infiltrated the underground network, mingling with Guild, Zhentarim, and Thugs alike. He carefully observed their trade networks and studied their trade secrets as he temporarily acted under their needs before running back off with the information to the now abandoned factories on the shoreline.

Hands running with memory, he used the metal scraps and various stolen powders to craft numerous weapons of destruction. He looked at himself in the gleaming metals, felt the various nicks and bruises across his hands from the work before turning the market on its head. Exporting his work to make numbers, he took hold of the unsuspecting and thrusted them to make his ultimate designs.

Mere weeks into his developments, various characters of his past both from hell and sewer came back with contracts in hand and meetings to be scheduled as he charmed and dined their offerings to build himself up more. Soon enough, Enver Gortash was making lucrative business as a black market arms dealer, sending a thousand ships full of weapons and bombs to neighbouring wars without a blink towards the headlines and the various zeros that followed.

Using this newfound income, Enver looked to legitimize his business, exploring other avenues and sectors. Combing his way back into the light, his eyes winced at the harsh sunlight casting judgement across his pale skin before shaking hands with misters and misses to dukes and duchesses alike. But with surface level interests came newfound dangers brought into light as many looked to take down the approaching tidal wave of Envers overtaking of the manufacturing scene, especially those connected to the Knights of the Shield as many attempts at his life were made over glasses of wine, the occasional bathhouse, or underground dispute.

He looked for a bodyguard and found himself back in searching the hells like the devil himself did to him. Casting up a contract to a young tiefling named Karlach, she protected the supposed businessman with her life and fiery passion. Often casting jokes to try and catch a sliver of a smile she thought to be imagining, or the slight twitch to his eye. The facade Enver put up was perfected as his signature gilded across multiple pages and shook hands with the upper echelon of society.

It was during one of these events that the whispering wind had caught his breath and taken his life back to an old one he thought to have forgotten long ago. He watched as a striking young woman in an equally lavish gown practically skipped down the cobbled streets, a dashing young man chasing after her, a sword swinging by his waist with every step he took.

Your face caught him standing there in the street as you simply overlooked him and took around a corner. The young man seemingly out of breath gripping his knees as he called out your name that had Enver feeling weak himself. Gripping his hands into fists, Karlach raised a brow- this was the most emotion she had ever seen her boss possess as she quickly looked over the square for a possible association.

“Is everything alright boss?” Karlach asked tentatively, hands beginning to reach around her back to draw a weapon as Enver began to walk forward with large strides without another word. His heart was racing, his eyes begging to cast upon your form again as he wondered if you would remember a boy like him.

His mind then flooded as a foreign weight fell upon his right shoulder, he remembered your head falling against it during the early morning hours after you patched his hand. Next, a memory of you pulling him into the very factory he worked out of now. Sneaking around the various guards and filling your bag full for the next day where you spent all day trying to make his drawings a reality and then you were at school. Him seeing you for the first time, reading with you on the bench behind the church and holding you as the children screamed.

When he looks down the alleyway you went down, he finds it empty- as if you were only a figment of his imagination, a ghost of an older life. He looks down to the ground, confused as he asks the voices in his mind if he had truly lost it only to receive no response. Karlach waits for him, guarding the small space as she silently understands what her boss had seemingly lost but was increasingly distracted by his sudden display of emotion. In the end, she had not readied herself for the onslaught of it as a heavy heart soon turned to anger and ultimately her destruction.

Feeling the after waves of his own enslavement, for catching a glimpse at what could have been you and him. He was taken back to the hells from a portal supported by Helsik and struck a deal with Zariel. The Crown of Karsus for a pivotal role in the new world alongside a new product offered now that he had been working diligently on for many years now, an infernal engine- the test subject? Karlach.

Lost in the need for his pain to be felt, he used it on the only person he was able to call a friend in the past decade they had been working alongside one another as the voices demanded it, only to mute and combine in the sound of one, Use those weak to build yourself stronger.

Who speaks? Enver asks himself as the roaring fires and the woman's screams are left behind as he emerges from the portal once more.

You are to be my Chosen, the voice disregards the question at first, only leaving a lingering presence in the back of his mind as he beds a red-headed lady to gain himself more notoriety in the higher circles. Weapons at their throats, hidden by words as he looked towards politics as he pulled out to finish and hastily takes himself out of the bed as the woman gasped for air, her eyes still closed in bliss before snapping to the sound of the door slamming closed.

Enver walked outside the estate, still adjusting his long coat against his body before entering the dying streets. Walking back towards the factories, the voice revealed themselves to be Bane, the God of Tyranny and Lord of Darkness as the sun fell upon the shores. On his path he looks back to see the hill where he first met you, the marks the woman left across his back still aching as he feels bile run up his throat as he crashes into the side of a building for support.

“Lady Jannath,” he whispers to himself, testing the name for he didn’t care to remember earlier but knowing he is not alone he asks the voice ever present. Will she see me- love me enough to hate me- to lothe me? My actions and desires?

She left you, remember chosen? You were rotting in hell as she was begging for the Duke's boy. Do not forget that you are bettering this world by rebuilding it. We have no need for the girl-

You speak in such absolutes…

As you will learn to force them.

─────── · ·

Enver Gortash would become a common name discussed in every home from within the gate- his popularity overshadowing any dirt to be found in the scraps he did not already erase. Bane led Gortash to acquire more power and influence within the political inner circles surrounding Baldur's Gate as he became referenced to be the future military advisor after his connections in the weapons industry. Driven by his growing ambition with the Crown of Karsus in hand, the knowledge of this artifact set in the hands of another slipped within the underground and underdark as Myrkul and Bhaal also wished to play house with the city.

Cornered one day in his own factory, a blade thrusted in between his ribs by the Chosen of Bhaal and the barking dog of Ketheric Thorm, the Chosen of Myrkul, in his face. He was left with little room but to ensure a favorable alliance with his compliance. Showing the wicked two the power the Crown could offer within ancient Netherese texts they searched to enslave an Elder Brain to support their deities alongside their own personal desires. Splitting the crown within three Netherstones, unleashed sins were planned to swarm the coast.

Sins plagued the man as desire soon overtook. Gortash had people keeping tabs on every moment of your life. He read upon your family's new estate, the friends you networked with, the first apprenticeship you gained under Ravengard to your training with the flaming fists before discussions of you being sent away to learn under foreign education. Rage would be too small of a word to withhold the pure fury that raged through Envers veins.

The little boy within him crying out to see his only friend betrothed to another. A sick jealousy plagued his mind as he kept photos of your graduation, set your favorite flowers by his bedside and had even stolen your couple's portrait of you and Wyll from the Dukes estate. The son's face was ripped apart, leaving you alone on the canvas to shine beautifully with the fresh oil paints. Gortash would find himself sitting in front of you many nights as he told you his wicked plans- as if trying to gauge a reaction from your unmoving character.

He would silently await your answer before looking at the various sculptures surrounding the room that silently judged the lord to be. And in a moment of great weakness, watching from one of the balconies of Wyrms Rock fortress as he temporarily visited as a guest. He watched your ship sail away. You running away, just as he was finally getting everything he ever wanted. In this moment of bitterness, of weakness and hurt pride; he decided to show his strength and took tadpoles to the instigators of it all.

─────── · ·

The cobbler house was quiet on a weekend night. Oil lamps threatened to flicker out as Enver moved effortlessly under their light. Bane praised his forward thinking, of gaining the purest image from highly supportive parents- parents that would never speak down to him, beat him, torment him so horribly. These people would no longer sell him out, cast you aside.

His mother was frozen in a silent scream as Enver gripped the woman by her long brown hair with a fist. He tilted his wrist, applying more tension to her scalp as he presented the wiggling tadpole in front of his mother. Not a smile, tilt of the eyes or breath exited Gortash as he watched the worm wiggly its way in behind her eye. She trashed and groaned, nails digging into her son's wrists as red blood dripped to the floor to show his humanity.

His father laid there still, his insides casted upon the floor as he chanted your name in a silent prayer before Gortash calmly strided his way across the rickety old floors that creaked and groaned under his weight. He dropped his mother to the floor with no further regard, her head slamming against the warm rugs as she laid their limp. Eyes wide, breaths shallow, mind searching for answers to only curse the devil of her own son.

His father made no protests, his fate sealed as the tadpole slithered up his neck. Gortash leaned against the countertop. His long black coat swayed slightly in the cold night air making its way through the lofty space as he watched the insertion take place, watching as both of his parents kissed his boots as he slammed the store door behind him before taking into view your boarded up storefront.

A few books were still visible in between the planks as Envers' heart clenched in his chest. He craved the pain of feeling you- even the loss of you. It was in this pain Gortash first found his path, his deity, and yet he still prayed thankful to having met you. He wished to have you hear everything you made him realise, to have you see the perfect city of people he commanded, and he would command you to stay rather than leave.

─────── · ·

Salty sea air wafted into your senses as you strolled across the white sand coast line. Your head was full of recalling teachings and notes you studied the night before in your dormitory. Looking up at the sun, you still had time before you were to meet with your peers at the Library. You were counting down the days to your final written exam.

Chuckling at yourself, or to the picture of self you keep in your mind. You wonder what home will look like in your return. If the same restaurants you love and remember are still in business. If your few school friends have returned from their studies as well. Some had gone off to Bards College while others chose to study among the druids or with the Society of Brilliance in the Underdark. A shiver runs across your spine at the thought of traversing such lands after you learned of the great diseases that had coated the lands. The text brings a tear to your eyes as you rubbed them in equal tiredness.

Yet nevertheless, you would miss your fellow students, your mentors and coaches. You were one paper away from being a qualified court member and would hold enough dignity to take Wyll’s side- Wyll. Your heart echoed with a few painful aches, you wondered what he would look like now. It had been years since you had seen him as you looked down to your bare left hand, the emptiness of it holding weight as you rubbed at your ring finger, tension only growing with festering fear of what if?

You wonderdered if the young man you had left was already holding court meetings, dancing with other young beautiful women and orchestrating deals for the city. You pondered if he still enjoyed taking walks around the garden, sneaking off into the lower city for a semblance of normality- or had the new reality already overcome that? Your mind was a storm of wild thoughts and fantasies as you bumped into your fellow students in the halls and stumbled into the library with a shy smile once realizing you were late.

The tables were filled, nearly every seat taken as one of your classmates moved their bag for you to take its place. Books were strewn across the table, empty tea cups littered the jackets of books as you found space to open your notes and started to review while doing your best to shake your thoughts of the beach.

─────── · ·

Darkness soon painted the skies, the room filled with candlelight as you wrote your final sentence and signed off your name. “Are you ready for the closing ball this weekend, (name)?” one of your peers asked as they helped you to pack up your belongings. Taking a pause, your books floating over your bag, you raised an eyebrow in question towards them- a silent ask for them to continue.

“There are spokespeople coming from neighbouring continents to hire us after graduation, surely one of your professors has spoken to you about this?” they continue, eyes growing wide as you shake your head, “No, I have not but I already have work for me back at home.”

“Oh, do not tell me it is with that ‘betrothed’” your peer makes quotations around that final word as they make a big display of looking at your hand. A sad yet knowing look casting over their features. “You must know that without the ring or paper, they are merely words and just that.”

“But I do believe it to be true,” you hold strong, eyes unwavering in their own even as your voice tilts, the lack of Wylls replies to your letters over the past three years eat away at your belief as time progresses.

“I just don’t want you to lose your future, that is all. But please, do speak to at least a couple of employers… you never know what can happen,” they grab your hand with these parting words. You can only offer a small nod before watching them leave the library as you continue to pack up your belongings. Maybe I shall talk to a couple, no harm in conversation… you think to yourself before walking back to your silent dormitory. Doing your best not to wake the other students by the creaky floors or heavy oak doors as sleep soon overcomes you.

─────── · ·

Flowers wine themselves up every bannister and set upon every table as you make your way into the ballroom. Your paper sits safely in one of your crates already making its way back to the mainlands. Suits and Satin has your back feeling cold and missing Wylls warm touch that led you around events like this. A pleasant smile coats your face in a mask as you take a champagne flute and turn to raise it towards your headmaster. Cheers erupted throughout the room as you swallow down the liquid before settling the empty glass back upon the try.

Music breaks the words as you stand at the refreshments table, picking away at the snacks and delicacies that sit in the shapes of animals and famous sculptures. Taking a laugh for yourself, you steal the middle finger off one of the food displays and place it on your plate as you look to find an empty table.

You watch as your classmates talk with their dance partners. A thousand ages and backgrounds fill the room as the spilling of fresh ink catches your intrigue. Your friend appeared to be correct as you watched them leave with a well dressed man towards one of the offices, a paper sealed in their hand as they cast a wide smile before exiting. Exhaling a breath, you pick at your food and observe the floral decorations at your table with false intrigue.

Soon, overwhelming sadness finds your reflection in the various glasses sat atop the table. Wyll had not shown up, you had an understanding that he would not but the hope for a surprise was soon overshadowed by its lack of presence. A sudden hand has you startled as it presents itself in your face. A handsome young man stands before you, his smile a bit crooked by the chip in his left large tooth, yet by the well trimmed golden hair he presents and the tailored clothes across his back- he comes from a good background.

“A dance for the lonely?” he asks, fingers stretching winder as you place your hand in his own and are hoisted up into the life of the party. Various gowns sound like waves crashing against the polished floors. The music comes crashing over every laugh and conversation as you allow your years of practice in the Ravengard ballroom to lead you through the dance.

“Penny for your thought, my lady?” the man asks with a curious tint to his gaze but before you can reply, your partner is being switched as you spin into the arms of another. “The colour suits you,” they simply state. The lack of polish in their voice catches you off guard- the same tones that you worked hard to make your voice forget.

You notice the long black coat they wear near the bottom signs of obvious wear and tear are sound as stitches are coming undone. Their top is hastily buttoned, their shoes dull, and their hair- your breath catches in your throat as you feel them grip your waist tighter. Your cheeks flare up with warmth upon recognition as you rack your brain for a name- Enver Gortash.

They smile, looking down to your lips as you whisper their name. “So you do remember me,” he comments, seemingly to himself as he pulls you away to a large twirl before slamming you back into the privacy of his arms. “Of course I would remember my childhood friend,” you say back. Your head starts to feel heavy from all the memories that flood in as you press your forehead to his shoulder.

You hear the small gasp Enver takes in, feeling the familiar weight of you on his shoulder and he has never felt such comfort. Taking one of his hands from your waist, you feel how his hand hesitates before gently stroking up and down your back. His touch has your shoulders dropping and you would not stop the smile that spreads your cheeks. A laugh of disbelief is shared between the both of you. The music eventually fades as you open your eyes once more, you go to bow, picking up your skirt but he takes your hand and drags you out of the ballroom and into the study wing.

The hall remains empty besides the few staff that run trays to and fro. Your eyes cast upon his broad shoulders and the hair he still has not styled since his youth. His smile is genuine when he turns around and casts you a wink before holding a door for you to enter. You hesitate to turn around until the sound of a click before taking the sight of him in full.

“You look so…” words fail to come to mind, your hands still shaking as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You struggle to feel everything in this moment as he tilts his head and raises a brow, asking you to continue with a wave of his hand. “...so old.” Your hands grasp your mouth, shock holding you still as you yell internally. His laughter fills the small room as he takes large strides over to you, pulling your hands from your face to hold between his own.

“How you wound me,” he responds, a playful tint to his brown eyes, “and here I thought to find a beautiful and reputable young woman.” You scoff at his words, pulling your hands gently away with a shake of your head. “Alright and like we didn’t steal from half the population of Baldur’s Gate.”

“But look where it has placed you, exactly with my words…” his sentence trails off as he twirls a strand of your hair before looking outwards at the window behind you. You look at the side of his face, taking notice of the tens of scars that litter his jaw and cheeks. Your fingers brush against the raised skin, you feel him twitch away before pulling himself back to your touch, allowing you to observe.

“Where have you been old friend?” you ask quietly, a part of you scared to know an equal part of you burning with curiosity. “Where haven't I been,” he responds coldly before remembering his company and releasing a large sigh. He leans against a desk nearest to him as you watch his movements, holding onto every word he speaks- his voice deep and captivating to your senses beyond belief.

“When you left, my parents soon realized their mistakes. We were struggling and there was only so much a boy could carry those nights and every night the weight increased as I looked for a way out. But when I received one, it was never one I could have begun to imagine. To face such hardships, torments, and then utmost cruelty… it took hold of me in the hells-fire and I burned so much of myself in those years.”

“Enver-” you start to speak, hands looking to comfort as he settles them back at your sides. He refuses to meet your eyes as he turns to observe his shoes. Your heart aches at the sight of that young boy sitting behind you, picking away at the edges of his, or well your books.

“I was put under contract and under lashes. I bled and bruised, I worked for my life and with the lives of others. I put souls onto paper, took notes with their blood and found a way out years later. I thought of you, on the tiled floors. I often pictured your presence, heard your voice, I searched for you in the Lower City upon return- I had never thought you would move so far or remembered you to.”

Tears stream silently down your face, guilt rises with the treats you feasted on earlier. You beat yourself for not thinking to take him with you- for not thinking over one action versus the years you spent together. “Why did you cast me away then? If I had known-”

“No.” His voice is cold, his eyes snapping to you as you feel like that small girl within the trinkets and wires once more. His mother’s voice ringing in your bones as your eyes plead for answers for a forgiveness for what you do not understand but your own humanity. Enver continues, “You got the better family, the better spoils, you deserve the better life. I could not take that from you- even at times a part of me wished I did. Wished that I did not have to suffer alone but then I would be forgetting the old you. The malnourished, the angry and spiteful. I never wanted to forget her as it seems you never have forgotten me.”

“I thought of you too, you were all that consumed my thoughts at every dinner I attended- at every sparring session I went through. Surely if you are here tonight… has there been some semblance of good?”

He stands to full height, picking up your chin as his thumb brushes away your tears. “Good things do not come to men like me, we must chase them against the better judgement of others or else we will never see them. I am what I need to be, I worked for this, worked to see you once again. And here I hope, before I tell you more that you see me the way I do you?”

You drop your head into his hand, your own raising to play with the various gold designs intertwined with his collar. “Of course, you are my dearest friend of all- for all time.” And then hurt flashes in the man's eyes, he drops your head once more, his hand flexing before closing- his legs carrying him towards the exit. Your eyes grow wide, watching as the man departs without another word. Your head spinning for answers, for an explanation to his answers and just as you turn back down the hall. Enver Gortash had vanished and a staff member was placing yet another glass of champagne in your hand as you headed back into the ballroom.

─────── · ·

THE CITY: THE SERIES: PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE ... you are here

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thevampiremarie · 1 year ago

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Magindara

When invaders threaten your home, life, and people, you, a sirena, strike a desperate bargain with Dream of the Endless to save them all.

Dream of the Endless x mermaid!reader, one shot (for now)

Tags: war, gore, torture, death/murder, mentions of SA, slavery, things that generally come with colonialism

Inspired by the episode “Jibaro” from the Netflix show Love Death + Robots. This one shot draws heavily from Filipino mythology, culture, and history. I ENCOURAGE and INVITE people who don’t come from a Filipino background to read this story and enjoy! There is so much beauty to be had in cultures of color, for everyone. Just as I have read many stories steeped in Greek, Celtic, Norse, medieval England, etc cultures, without coming from those backgrounds, I humbly ask you do the same and entertain this little fic. Thank you. I may write a follow up if there’s interest. Glossary at the end.

From the banks of your river, you can hear the horses.

Metal plate clangs and screeches against itself, swords jostle in their sheaths, and shields bump where they rest on armored backs so loud that you want to scratch your sensitive ears out, just to make the sounds stop.

Your ates and kuyas hide deep below in the caverns known only to your kind. When you close your black eyes, you feel them tugging at the edges of your mind like little lights in the deep darkness of the sea. They believe that will be enough to save them.

Only you have braved the surface, because only you know what these strange men upon their strange beasts want.

They want the gold in the dark, fertile earth. You don’t understand why - it’s just shiny metal. Only the dwarves under the hills covet it. But the men who ravage your lands and your kin like wildfires, grasping everything and destroying it in the same breath, care very much. They want the never-dying orchids that line the banks and the brilliant emerald green vitality bursting from every leaf and vine that could keep a mortal alive for a thousand years. They want to feed their glory on your broken bodies. They want to take the people you protect for slaves, the women shamed and disgraced and the men subservient and humiliated.

You’ve seen it for yourself.

You’ve tasted the water of streams running red with blood, the iron like acid on your blue tongue.

You’ve swam farther and seen enough to make you hate. Families torn apart, children with their hair cut off and given names in an ugly language, forbidden to speak their own - the same language you speak. Fathers dragged onto large ships, larger than a butandíng, never to return. Altars burned. The men put your red sisters who live in the balete trees, their hair tangled with vines and lovely, fierce, flickering yellow eyes, to the flame. You witnessed their dying howls and curses for vengeance.

Some of the white-haired annani have already begun to clip their pointed ears, tear the crowns of flowers from their hair, and even cut out their tongues so as to lock away the magic these men desire, never to be spoken again. “There is no place for us,” Those tall, graceful elves told you. “We will be gone in a generation, by sword or by starvation.”

They’re coming.

The jungle is quiet as it has never been in a thousand years.

You could no more hide your tail, glittering blue and turquoise, with long, sweeping fins like ferns, than you could hide the long sweep of hair that reaches your waist, or the ink-black lines embedded on your skin, painting your face, your neck, and your arms with the story of your people and your home.

The calls that echoed from the depths of the river have stopped. It seems that your family has accepted that you won’t come back.

You look at your webbed hands, test your claws against your flesh. What is one magindara to a hundred conquistadors?

When the men spear you, they won’t just be slaughtering a mermaid. They’ll be killing the stories you keep. Centuries of stories. Countless names. Each pearl around your neck is a tribe, full of the old songs of grandmothers and the new rhymes of babies. You’re draped in thousands of shimmering strands of pearls.

You may not be the cleverest, or the most beautiful, or the one with the sweetest voice…

But you can be the bravest.

“Lord Morpheus,” You intone, frowning as the syllables ripple wrong and harsh from your throat.

You’ve never spoken to any of the gods beyond your islands before. “Dream of the Endless.” All you can do is hope and pray this one listens and comes to you in time. Will they be kind? Will it be merciful? Will he, or she, save your home?

Perhaps such a god does not exist at all, and you are praying to wind and sunlight, and soon your guts will color the cerulean water purple and black. The strange men will defile your body, no doubt. A week ago, you crawled from your river to cut down the corpse of a long-gone ate from a stake, jagged holes ripped into the tail of her corpse that made you vomit and her dead eyes full of pain.

Once you’d laid her to rest in the water, she dissolved into nothing. “Prince of Stories,” You sing. That is what faces everything you’ve ever loved if you fail.

“I beg you, save us. Save our stories, our dreams. We call for your aid.”

The men bark at each other. Any moment now, they’ll see you, your hands raised and your face tipped towards the heavens, inky flowers blooming on your forehead and cheeks and crocodile teeth tattooed on the sharp line of your jaw.

A new quiet falls over the world. Like nighttime, when things are resting, not dead.

You have called, and I answer.

A being stands on the banks of your river in the shape of a man. His hair is blacker than Bakunawa’s maw and his eyes are filled with gold and silver stars brighter than any you’ve seen before. His pale skin carries no markings.

He is as grotesquely, menacingly beautiful as the razor’s edge of shark teeth, as a great python curling in a tree, as an eagle with its claws stuck in the beating, bleeding heart of a monkey.

You feel the weight of his gaze on your brow heavier and hotter than the sun on the longest day of summer, burning out the truth in your heart. “I would bargain with you, Dream Lord. For my people, and my land, and my home, which I love more than my own life.”

What would you have me do? When Lord Morpheus speaks, his voice pours through your mind ringing like the purest, clearest freshwater.

The many jewels around your throat, pearls, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, plates of beaten gold, click as you swallow nervously.

The dream king stands so tall that he could touch the sky if he reached up. And he doesn’t look away or blink. You can’t read the inhuman planes of his face whatsoever, you can’t find any familiar sign in his long limbs that might bring comfort. For all you know, you’ve spelled your doom.

“Keep them alive. Keep our names and spirits alive. Bring our stories into your kingdom so that we won’t be forgotten. That is what the men want. They want to raze us to the ground and rebuild the world in their image but we will not go.” You pause. “We will never, ever go,” You growl, fierce and deadly, around a mouth full of fangs. In your words you pour the horrors you’ve seen, combined with the beauty surrounding the two of you.

The hot, muggy air, the warm rain, the scent of night-blooming jasmines. Orange mangoes, bursting with sweetness, bamboo sticks clacking as joyful youths dance in and out of them, laughing gaily. Rolling drums. Bright feathers tucked into black hair. A toddling child reaching out to her grandmother with a chubby-cheeked smile, pressing the back of the withered, ancient hand against her little forehead. Love, so much love.

I have not walked these lands before.

You found traces of Lord Morpheus scribbled in the margins of paper and in the back alleys of lost dreams. Your last and only hope.

When you went to Diyan Masalanta, she wept and showed how the soldiers bound her hands. When you cried out to her brother, Apolaki, the sun god called back and said the invaders took his shield.

Bathala is gone. Mayari is gone. Lakapati is dead. The conquistadors stripped her naked, cut her ribs from her chest, and planted her bones in the fields they set their slaves, your people, to work.

“They say you are Endless. You preside over all beings in all places. Please, I beg you, preside over us. Are we not worthy of your favor? Do we not deserve to live in your dreams and nightmares?”

If Lord Morpheus refuses you, you’ll cut your throat before you let your enemies have you.

He tilts his head like he can hear your thoughts. One shining hand stretches out, almost as if to touch your face. You sing prettily, little siren. You draw back with a start. Why is there hunger in his voice? A hollow, all-consuming, terrifying hunger?

You know what it feels like to starve when the fish are scarce. This is leagues away, a typhoon to your trickle of rain. Shadows bloom under his hollowed cheeks. His pupils eclipse his brilliant aquamarine irises.

He’s-

He’s aching.

Morpheus flashes his bone-white teeth as he bends at the waist to examine you further. His gaze traces your tattoos, your large, frightened eyes, and your body beneath the necklaces and bracelets.

As scared as you are, as convinced that you’ll bleed the instant his fingers brush your blue-streaked skin, your numb lips move.

“I vow to you now, Lord Morpheus, before every god and being I know, that should you render us this aid, I will give you anything within my power to grant that you wish.”

Anything?

“Name it, my lord, and it shall be yours.” With that, your eyes flutter shut as you await his judgment.

You can’t hide from him, even in your mind. You don’t see him, but you feel a straining pressure build where he prods at you, pushing on the fragile edges of your being like he’s cracking a duck egg. He claws and scrapes until-

I will aid your people.

You open for him like a sampaguita flower. Dream of the Endless picks through your soul like he’s picking blossoms, you feel how much he wants with every brush, every long moment where he sticks his fingers in and relishes the feel of you. Nothing has ever touched you like this before.

He’s on his knees on the riverbank, the dark soil pressing into his clothes. His hands clench the rocky edge of the bank. Your wet hair sticks to your back as you rise up, close enough that you can count his night-black eyelashes. There’s a dizzying amount of them.

“Thank you. Thank you. Salamat-po. And your price, majesty?”

You’ll do whatever he wants. Does his thirst demand souls? You’ll harvest them by the dozen. You can picture Lord Morpheus unhinging his jaw, swallowing those soldiers whole. Their swords wouldn’t even scrape him going down. Riches? You have no use for them if you’re dead. He can take every speck of wealth to be had.

You. I want you.

Your sisters and brothers wail. They sense the foreign king tearing at the flesh binding you together. They feel him taking a knife to your indigo heart and cutting it loose from your body. Your head tilts back as you gasp for breath and see him hold the organ aloft. Dark blood trails in rivulets down his wrists.

“I-“

There are no creatures like you in my realm. So I shall have you, in every way that I wish, and you’ll obey. Those are my terms.

Your tail lashes in the water as if you fight hard enough, you can swim away. The cavity pulses with searing, unholy pain. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve summoned- He is an aswang, a devil, a soul-eater, you’ll never see your home again, you’ll never touch the water you’ve known since birth.

Lord Morpheus brings your heart to his mouth. His lips are beautifully-formed. You can’t find it in yourself to hate such a wondrous creature. Even your amethyst ichor looks more beguiling when he’s covered in it.

It was never a question. “Yes, my lord. I accept these terms.”

His white teeth stain purple when he sinks them into your heart.

Glossary:

Ate (ah-tey) - sister

Kuya (koo-yah) - brother

Butandíng - whale shark

Balete tree - very cool large tree native to Southeast Asia

Annani - elves from the stories of the Ibanag people, who look like humans with pointed ears. They are kind guardians of the forest and often share healing knowledge with humans if treated with respect.

Magindara - mermaids from the folklore of the Bicolano people. Beautiful half human, half fish guardians of rivers/streams/lakes/the oceans, who sing to lure fisherman and warriors to their death but leave children unharmed.

Bakunawa - a great mythic serpent and god/goddess of darkness. Various myths place Bakunawa responsible for eclipses.

Diyan Masalanta - Tagalog goddess of love, war, childbirth

Apolaki - Tagalog god of the sun and war, patron saint of warriors, soldiers, modern day patron saint of Filipino traditional martial arts (Kali/eskrima/arnis) practitioners

Bathala - the Tagalog supreme creator god

Mayari - the Tagalog goddess of the moon, war, revolution, and justice. She fought her brother Apolaki for dominion over the heavens.

Lakapati - the Tagalog goddess of fertility, food, bounty, balance, and prosperity. She represents both male and female and has both male and female genitalia. Patron saint of queer/trans people.

Sampaguita - the Filipino name for sambac jasmine, the national flower of the Philippines

Salamat-po (sah-lah-maht poh) - thank you (utmost respect) in Tagalog

Aswang - overall name for the malicious/demonic/monstrous beings in Filipino folklore. Vampires, zombies, ghouls, organ eaters, cannibals.

I hope you guys liked this! Let me know if you have any questions or want to read more from this.

#the sandman #magindara #sandman #the sandman comics #sandman comics #the sandman tv show #sandman tv show #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #Dream of the endless #lord morpheus #lord morpheus x reader #lord morpheus x you #Morpheus #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader

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happyely2 · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Portuguese D. Ace x Fem!Reader

Rating: For everyone, even if there will be mentions of blood, physical and mental wounds, needles for stitching wounds and some small hints of cuddles (the right amount, because we like it that way). If you are sensitive to descriptions of blood or wounds skip the story. At times comical and at times a little sadder, I hope you enjoy this one as well as Cozy Autumn Prompts.

Summary: Being the girlfriend of Portgas D. Ace, the infamous pirate commander of Whitebeard's second fleet, isn't always easy. You know well that life as a pirate is a constant gamble, but every now and then you just want your man - and all the people you care about - to return to your room without wounds to patch up. It's fine that you're a scrupulous and attentive nurse, but damn these men don't have the slightest bit of restraint when they have to attack a ship or a new island, and Ace is the first to throw himself into the fray, but you love him so much that you are willing to always take care of him.

🪡Taking care of a lover’s injury 🪡

“Oh God, what happened?!” You whispered as you caught a bottle of alcohol that was about to fall to the floor. The ship had been shaken by a violent blow, it was as if someone had rammed into it and if someone had succeeded it must have been a very large ship.

“Put all glass bottles safely away and prepare emergency kits. I'm afraid we'll have twice as much work to do today!” You said to your colleagues as you adjusted your white shirt so that it wouldn't get in your way during the fight.

The New World was increasingly full of hotheads who aimed to become important pirates and to do so they targeted the ships of the big boys. Calm and tranquility were words unknown to Moby Dick.

"Goodmorning sweetheart! How was your morning?” Satch and the other men had set up a trench with the kitchen and dining room tables, you ducked to dodge the bullets and stood next to the commander of the fourth division, while the latter loaded a rifle with gunpowder to pass it to one of your companions.

“It could have been better! Who is attacking us?” You said as you opened your bag to get needle, thread and some alcohol, some of your people had been hit by bullets and needed to be treated immediately, quickly extract the bullets and stitch them up to avoid losing a limb or too much blood.

“A rookie, he has a stupid Mohawk. What poor taste.” Izo was next to you and in a short time he had fired three shots that all hit, but the enemies seemed to multiply. Meanwhile, you had finished stitching the leg of one of your companions who immediately picked up the rifle again and started shooting.

“Be careful, I just got the stitches!” You said while you were taking care of another wounded man, this time he had been hit under the cheekbone and almost lost his eye.

Luckily the barricades protected most of your comrades from even more serious injury, but the rifle fire continued to rage.

“We're running out of bullets here, we need to move on to strong weapons.” Satch was next to you, sooner or later the enemies would have to run out of cartridges you thought as you carefully looked at the enemy fence, those bastards were making excuses with thick metal shields.

“The main bridge? Do you have any news?" You asked quickly gathering your stuff inside your bag and placing it over your shoulder. Attacking the left flank where the kitchens and infirmary were located was a dirty diversion, your enemies were aiming for the main deck where Whitebeard generally remained to dictate orders, the left flank was less controlled than the others.

“None, they cut off communication, but everyone else is here, I don't think there will be any problems.” Izo said as he handed you a spare slugphone: “Try this one, it's another line.” He said as he continues shooting wounding five more enemies.

"Ready? This is the kitchen, main deck, can you hear me?”

“Main deck, we hear you loud and clear Miss.” Vista's voice made you breathe again, even though suspicious noises could be heard in the background.

“The Vista situation?” You asked without wasting any time, your other companions were arriving with more medical supplies, ready to follow you to the main deck.

“A bit bad, we have too many wounded among the new recruits. Nobody seems to be serious, Santa is organizing the boarding of the opposing ship." Vista replied as a sword blow could be heard cutting something in the background.

“Dad needs to rest dammit! Satch we have to pass now, there are injuries that need to be treated.” You said as you ended the conversation. Whitebeard may have been one of the most feared men in the New World, but at that time the treatments he was undergoing were so delicate that they could aggravate his physical situation.

Furthermore, the enemies had chosen a perfect day to attack, Marco had gone to deliver important messages to your allies, without the first commander you were at a disadvantage, his phoenix power was very useful in those situations and if Marco was missing it only meant a what: Ace was about to lead the boarding of the enemy ship.

The cook didn't have to be told twice and his entire division went on the attack while Izo's covered his back. It took some time before you and the other nurses made it to the command bridge safe and sound because neither Satch nor Izo would let anything happen to you, and once you got there you immediately started rescuing your crew.

Maybe Vista didn't want to alarm you, but the situation was quite inconvenient. You just hoped you wouldn't have to amputate any limbs.

“More enemies are coming!” Fossa, the captain of the fifteenth division, had raised the alarm. There was too many wounded who needed to be transported below deck, the infirmary would not have contained them all.

“Damn this was a trap.” You said as you approached the railing to check with your own eyes, the girls behind you were working to treat those who were at greater risk.

Four more enemy ships were arriving at great speed.

Your captain's laughter made you all spin. It was like him to laugh in those situations: “Let them come, they will only find defeat waiting for them.” Luckily Whitebeard wasn't injured, you breathed a sigh of relief and continued to move the injured below deck, so that they were safe and could be better cared for by the ship's doctor, you and your colleagues.

The cannon shots seemed to tickle your ship, but they were becoming closer and more precise.

Whitebeard had given the order to return fire and so all the men got busy.

“We need to get off that damned ship.” Satch said as he leaned out to see the damage, with the figurehead they had entered well into the side, destroying part of your house, you were with the fourth commander to understand the damage and to see if there were men to recover, they certainly were medical supplies have been affected.

“Ace comes here!” You said catching the second commander running across the bridge. Damn he was hurt! That idiot had gotten himself hurt and he had a Logia as a fruit of the sea.

“Love you are here! I didn't see you and I feared the worst. How is it going, do we have so many injured people?” He asked turning towards you and smiling warmly at you, she hugged you instinctively to check that you weren't hurt.

Either he was under the influence of a huge amount of adrenaline or Ace had such a high perception of pain that those injuries didn't bother him. This was a question you would never find the answer to.

“How the hell did they hit you? Ah, you're bleeding, stop here..." You looked at the long wound on his chest and the one on his right arm worriedly, his devil fruit made it difficult to stop the wound because the blood was too liquid due to the heat that his body was giving off.

“Some have Algamalotite weapons. They also resist my attacks which is why it took us longer.” He said Ace showing one of the weapons in question to the rest of the crew. He then explained how traps were scattered around the ship which had injured other people that his men were bringing on board.

Better and better.

“Where did they get them?” Asked Halta as he looked at her carefully, the workmanship of the sword was good, too good to have been made by any one person.

“We'll deal with this later. We need to free the ship and sort out the ones that are coming.” You said taking a needle and thread to saturate Ace's wounds, but your girlfriend stopped you in time and after placing his hair on her head he headed towards the Strider: "I can block them if I move now."

“ACE COME BACK HERE NOW!” You shouted trying to follow him but were quickly stopped by Izo before you jumped off the ship to chase him.

“Don't worry, he is not alone.” He told you looking up at the sky, Marco was back and was following Ace to give him back up.

“I swear that as soon as he comes back I'll sew him up properly!” You said the same as you watched the two commanders strike at the opposing ships. Whitebeard laughed loudly, commenting that you young people were so carefree that he envied you a little.

You sighed and turned towards the main deck, there were less serious injuries waiting to be treated and recovery operations to be carried out, so you rolled up your sleeves and started patching up your companions while who was still all entire effort was made to free the ship.

A couple of explosions followed one another in the following hours, marking the end of the fight. Ace and Marco had laid waste to the enemy ships and were returning, the strider was going slower than its normal speed and Marco was flying too low for his standards.

“Go on and check that everything is in one piece, big sister, we'll take care of it here.” Said one of your colleagues while you finished stitching a wound. You left the final directions and grabbed a new medical kit before heading to the main deck.

As soon as you arrived you immediately noticed the two commanders surrounded by the others who were asking for details of everything and more.

“Before you ask for anything, let me patch them up.” You said as you opened your bag and took out everything you needed, no one dared to argue. Marco had been wounded by the same weapons that had hit Ace, but his devil fruit was already taking effect so you fixed a couple of bandages and disinfected the wounds well, until you noticed a deeper one on his shoulder and that's when you cursed.

Ace was worse than a rag, lying on the ground and with his head spinning, he was kept conscious by Satch and Izo. He had lost too much blood, that imbecile.

You breathed in and out to calm yourself down and started lecturing them both, while everyone else laughed out loud.

“ESPECIALLY YOU ACE! IDIOT!" You said as you took the bottle of alcohol and opened it to clean the wound on your arm, it was deep, but it hadn't severed the nerves or any important blood vessels, Marco meanwhile was rearranging his shirt and was careful not to damage the stitches you had put.

“Stop squirming Ace!” You told him while using alcohol.

“That stuff bothers me.” Your boyfriend said with a grimace, then he told what had happened on one of the ships, that he had found other Algamalotite weapons, which now lay on the bottom of the sea and which all bore the same symbol, a skull with a sword that it pierced him in half.

There had been no need for anesthetic, the adrenaline was doing his job.

A couple of sutures later and you had completed the job, while Ace had finished his report: "I don't like this." You said as you put your tools back, everyone agreeing with you, it wasn't a normal Jolly Roger, it looked more like an anti-piracy symbol.

Ace leaned on your shoulder and held you close to him for reassurance, you all suspected that a fight like that was something premeditated and thought out down to the smallest detail, it was no coincidence that they attacked you at such a time. Marco's absence and the fact that we were without your other ships must have studied you for a very long time.

And if they had done something like this, none of you could rule out the possibility that they had thoroughly studied every single member of the crew.

“Daddy have you taken your medicine?” You asked turning to your captain. Ace was worried about that question too, because he knew how meticulous you were about reminding old Whitebeard about his medications.

“I hadn't gotten them yet. Are you afraid of something?” The man replied, then taking his favorite bottle of sake. Sooner or later you would have had to lock him up.

“It was too strange an attack dad, they hit us knowing our weak points too well.” He said Ace sensing your thoughts, thinking about it now, ramming the Moby Dick with a large ship on which traps and strong men were positioned was a diversion that didn't convince any of you.

Marco meanwhile was taking note of everything that needed to be repaired while with one ear he paid attention to the direction the conversation was taking.

“Attack or not, we should be more careful, anyone who can walk come and repair the ship, or at least let's try to fix it to get to the next island. Little sister tries to fix as many men as possible and give me an inventory of the medicines we lost." The first commander said, starting to give orders, conspiracies and suspicions would wait for the evening, for now you had to fix the damage suffered.

"See you this evening." She said Ace in your ear and leaving you his hat.

“Don't overdo it too much as the stitches might pop out and no devil fruit Ace.” You told him as you watched him run towards the hole to be repaired together with all the other men. You then gave the medicine to Father, because you always kept a reserve supply in case he didn't take it, and you said goodbye to both him and Marco to go below deck.

You had men to stitch up and put back together, and many of them.

“How bad is it?” You asked Satch in the late afternoon when you went to see how the men were doing, who as soon as they had been stitched up and treated had rushed to repair the ship, without even receiving the green light. And Ace was among them, not only had he rushed to free the ship, but due to the injuries he had suffered and the loss of blood he had also fallen into the sea and Satch and Izo had jumped in to save him.

Now your boyfriend was sleeping blissfully on top of your legs, covered in bandages from head to toe.

“It could have been worse, luckily the ship is repaired and thanks to you girls the men are back in shape immediately, or at least all of them and there is no one missing.” He said the cook as he took off his yellow handkerchief to wipe away the sweat. They had taken all the surviving crates of food and placed them safely on the other side of the ship.

“I hate how Ace put himself in situations like these.” You said while stroking his black hair rocking him to sleep, you knew him well, he had squeezed out every last crumb of his fire, he had saved many of your companions but this would have put him out of action for quite a while in the days to follow.

Satch laughed heartily and then helped you carry Ace into his cabin, you checked on him one last time and went out leaving him a note on the bedside table, in which you warned him that you would be back later.

You continued your tour with your colleagues, you had distributed medicines and painkillers to the men and then you went downstairs to take inventory of the medicines. By writing everything down meticulously, you realized that the situation wasn't the best.

“We've lost more than half of them Marco, and I can't ration the supplies we have because they don't even cover a third of the crew.” You said as you handed him the report you had made.

The first commander read the numbers you had collected, despite everything he remained apparently calm.

“We have to grit our teeth for a while, we have two days of sailing to the next island, with the ship in these conditions. We will have to work miracles." Phoenix said as he put down the book and checked the route she had chosen. Under normal conditions the Moby Dick would have arrived in less than half a day, but the ship risked taking on water and one of her engines was showing signs of failure.

Resisting for two days in those conditions, with the adverse weather of the New World would not have been so easy.

“Don't worry about my shoulder it's already recovering, go see Ace.” He told you immediately afterwards with a hint of a smile to reassure you, Marco had seen Ace fight and had confided in you that his health conditions worried him a bit.

“Okay, see you later Marco.” You replied, but not before leaving him a couple of painkillers. You quickly left the door and went towards Ace's room, the dining room was destroyed, so the fourth division would have brought food to everyone else and many accommodations were in bad shape, the men had organized themselves as best they could with mattresses, bunks and hammocks in the corridor.

You went to the infirmary to see if there was any news but your "little sisters" reassured you that everything was fine, you still said to call you in any case. They would have slept in the infirmary, because your rooms had also been hit.

When you entered Ace's room you didn't expect to see him already standing, you sighed and closed the door behind you joining him.

“Hey Love!” He greeted you with his usual smile, as if nothing had happened, you huffed but also smiled, luckily Ace seemed to be indestructible.

“You should stay in bed and rest.” You told him as you checked his bandages, they needed to be changed and surely a few stitches had popped off.

So you didn't waste any time and made him lie down on the bed, not without some protests.

“Wounds like this take longer to heal Ace.” You told him as you sutured him again, you had given him a shot of anesthetic, at least to not make him feel pain but his devil fruit quickly burned what was injected into his body, it was no small problem.

Ace was trying not to say a word or let out a single cry of pain, he was trying to hold on so as not to worry you further.

“I know it hurts, honey, I promise it's just for a few more seconds.” You said, better fixing the last stitch that had opened and then bandaging everything with a thicker and tighter bandage, at least in this way the stitches would have to hold up for the night.

Ace threw himself on you, complaining a little about the rest of his body hurting, so you asked to show you where he hurt. You discovered that he had at least a dozen bruises scattered here and there.

So you rolled up your sleeves and took some lotion from your bag to sober them up it can be absorbed more quickly.

“What is it Love?” Ace asked you as he ran his hand through your hair to caress you, he could see that you were tense.

“I hate seeing you in pain.” You responded, leaning against one of the pillows on Ace's bed. You had rubbed lotion on him and now you were lying next to each other. You traced the outline of his abs with your fingertips and with a light touch so as not to hurt him.

“One sleep and I'll be as good as new.” He said Ace smiling at you and kissing the tip of your nose, then your cheeks and finally his lips. He was an incurable romantic.

“If everyone were like you. We have two days of travel ahead of us, said Marco, supplies of food and medicines must be heavily rationed, but luckily no one has lost their lives." You said caressing his face and lingering more on his cheeks to play with their softness.

“It'll be fine, you'll see, we've faced worse and Marco will have chosen a fairly calm route.” Your boyfriend had taken your hands to bring them close to his lips to kiss them. He then slowly went up until he reached your neckline where he rested without asking your permission: "You're an excellent pillow and I'll recover faster this way." Ace had started purring like a cat rubbing against you and you had laughed, not chasing him away but holding him tighter to you.

“Are you still thinking about the symbol you saw?” You asked after a while, noticing the serious look that Ace had made while looking at the sea from the porthole of your cabin.

“Yes, I don't know why but I have a strange feeling.” And that strange feeling more simply translated into trouble ahead.

“They could hang up on us but they know that at this point Dad might intervene with his devil fruit.” You said playing with the locks of his hair, they had grown a little more, he would have to cut them soon.

“You know his power is so strong that it would wipe out the continent, and then I don't think it would be good for his health.” Ace had started drawing invisible circles on your back, slowly and in an almost hypnotic manner.

“Someone here doesn't want to sleep…” You whispered in his ear making your lover smirk.

“Come on Love, so I can heal faster.” Ace breathed on your neck allowing a rush of shivers to travel down your spine.

“You are recovering.” You insisted, standing up and straddling him.

“In fact, I won't make any movements, you will do everything, are you my personal nurse or not, Love?” Ace's warm hands ran along your sides rubbing against the bones of your pelvis, he knew that was a delicate spot of yours and that you loved when he squeezed it like that.

You held back a moan, just to not give him satisfaction, but the blush on your face made him smirk again.

“So I have full control? Can I start this visit?” You asked as you unhooked the clasp of your bra and Ace helped you take it off throwing it away on the floor of his room.

You wore a white top that tied in a bow at the back of your neck, it was Ace's favorite.

“Of course Love.” Ace had settled in better, he loved it when you took control in bed, it was a shame you weren't wearing a uniform.

You didn't have to be told twice and you gave him a kiss on the lips, then moving down to his chin, to his neck where you bit a little harder, drawing a small sigh of satisfaction from him, and then continuing your descent of kisses on his his abdomen.

Here you were a little more careful not to bite too hard and you helped yourself with your hands to tease him a little more. You traced the grooves of his muscles with your fingertips and went down to the V carved on his groin and dared to bite a little harder.

You smiled as you saw Ace's gaze starting to become full of lust.

You wasted no time fiddling with his belt, you knew it too well by now and knew how to remove it quickly.

“So far the control seems to be going well.” You said while playing with the elastic of his boxers.

"You say? I keep feeling something isn't right." He had said, caressing your cheek with his warm palm which you rubbed against.

You were about to continue, wanting to give him more pleasure, until the alarm went off all over the deck of the ship and made you freeze on the spot.

“Fuck.” He cursed Ace as you quickly got dressed to go check. You rushed out of his cabin to find yourself in a critical situation.

They were attacking you.

“I thought we were past the bad part.” She said Ace as you two reached the main deck. The sound of bombs hitting near the ship.

“These people here don't intend to give in, they attacked us waiting for us halfway.” Satch had arrived before you and handed you the binoculars to get a better look.

“That's ten ships! But what do they think they are doing!” You said as Ace grabbed your waist and quickly lowered you to avoid a cannon shot, he had grazed your head.

“They have the same symbol as the others, they must be allies.” Izo said taking cover as well.

“There's only one thing left to do, let's attack them.” Ace was about to come out, the Moby Dick was surrounded, Marco stopped him in time.

“It's not the right time yet.” The first commander had said, the ships were not within range, the snail near us had started to ring incessantly.

“This is the infirmary, where is the big sister?”

“I'm here, what's happening?”

“They hit us and we are seriously injured, come help us quickly.”

Damn, that's all you needed, more serious injuries to operate on in a situation like this.

"I am coming." You said, closing the conversation and turning to Ace: “Don't bullshit honey.” You told him and he smiled back at you.

“Go save our comrades.”

You ran downstairs to find yourself in total chaos, you quickly rinsed your hands and immediately put on gloves, there wasn't a second of time to waste.

“The situation upstairs?” One of your companions asked, handing you the tools to remove the pieces of wood that had stuck inside the body of one of your shipmates.

“Quieter than ours. The commanders were pissed off." You responded by starting to extract the largest pieces and immediately moving on to disinfecting and suturing.

The roars of some cannon shots or the sound of swords being drawn did not distract any of you while you operated.

You had lives to save and no one would die on your ship.

Twelve hours later the infirmary was a mess of needles, bottles of painkillers, scalpels, various instruments and blood. But fortunately all the most critical patients were stable, even those who had injured themselves on the command bridge and had been rushed to the infirmary.

The battle above had ended with the explosion of the enemy ships and Whitebeard had also played his part, he had regulated his power but this had cost him his health.

“Don't you dare lie. I can see it hurts.” You said as you set up his new IVs and increased the dose of antibiotic and painkiller to make him feel better.

“Enough is enough.” He replied, placing a hand on your shoulder: “You did a great job, you and the girls.” He added, looking at each member of his crew covered in bandages and painkillers.

You smiled, forcing yourself a little, the adrenaline in your body was starting to decrease: “Thanks dad.” Ace was next to you, his bandages stained with blood, but he was well enough to stand and support you. The fight had burdened him and despite this he also had responsibilities as a commander, he had to grit his teeth and set a good example for all your men.

Marco examined the nautical charts, the ship had suffered further damage and navigation would become more difficult, the island you wanted to reach was too far away.

“Hey…but that's an island!” You couldn't believe your colleagues' words, the girls were leaning over the bridge to get a better look.

In the end they were right, an island had appeared on your horizon.

“Marco please there is an island we can go to.” You had talked to the other girls, and all of you had introduced yourself to the first commander to convince him to go down to the island that you had spotted that morning at the first light of dawn when the smoke from the other ships had cleared.

Ace had tried to dissuade you, but he had no say in the matter.

“It is not part of our territories.” The first commander said while drinking his cup of bitter coffee.

“And whose would it be?” You asked for all your colleagues as Ace tried to calm you down. The island was only two hours away from you, you could have stopped to stock up on food, repair the ship and treat the wounded better.

“Del Rosso.” Marco replied, cursing himself for having taught us girls to navigate and knowing how to read a map and he cursed himself even more for having answered, the girls and you, hearing that name, had headed to Whitebeard to tell him to dock on the island immediately.

“They don't have a shred of restraint.” Satch had said, understanding well that landing on an island belonging to another emperor was not something prudent.

“It's Shanks the Red, of all people it's the best guess that could have happened to us.” Ace said, your boyfriend hadn't moved an inch after you glared at him, as if to say either you're on my side or I'll kill you. You could have a civil discussion with him, but it was still a risk.

“The problem is that knowing them they would face it without even thinking about it. Especially your girlfriend Ace.” He had said Izo, adjusting his Kimono to hide a bandage.

“Don't tell me anything, I have no say in the matter.” She said Ace, resigning herself to the fact that when you set your mind to something you managed to get it done. The boys started laughing heartily, your fervent spirit had brought back some joy to the crew.

In the end however, partly due to everyone's tiredness and partly because it was urgent to repair the ship, you had prevailed and for this reason you headed towards the island.

You could have expected anything when you got off, but not to find the Red's crew on dry land.

“Hey Whitebeard!” He had greeted the emperor with his usual smile that you couldn't identify. It was an idiotic smile. That's what the only explanation was.

"Red."

“Please, no fights.” You said, placing yourself between the two and glaring at both of them. You were sick of a lot of clashes and battles. The deathmatch for the sake of the good old days could wait.

No displays of Haki, no weapons being drawn. You breathed a sigh of relief and left the two emperors chatting while Marcus began supervising the construction of a camp. The redhead's crew also helped you, Ace was right to say that of all the emperors Shanks was the best case that could have happened to you.

Six hours later you were finally leaving the infirmary you had set up to get some fresh air. You had rechecked all your patients, fixed and splinted broken legs, destroyed wrists and sprained arms, all injuries that the men had hidden from you and for which they had received a severe lecture.

“The injured, even the serious ones, fortunately, they are all stable. Two days and they'll be as good as new.” You reported to your captain, explaining who the most critical ones were and what medicines needed to be taken as soon as possible.

“The ship has suffered quite a bit of damage, we should stop here for at least a week.” Marco said, listing the damage suffered, and it was quite a bit, but luckily it could be repaired.

The meeting was going to last late and Ace noticed the bags under your eyes and the fact that you couldn't pay attention. The lack of sleep was making itself felt.

“You should rest.” She had told you, making you sit on him. Nobody had said anything, in fact the discussions had continued.

“I will rest when I need it.” You said, trying to continue listening, even though the warmth of her body was an invitation to sleep, you had to resist. Three hours later, in the late afternoon you had emerged from the meeting room tent. From what had emerged, Red and his men had also been attacked in a similar manner a few days earlier and from the rumors circulating, an alliance seemed to have formed to eliminate the old emperors.

Better and better. If this was true you would have expected a clash in the days when you set sail again.

It was better to go and stock up on medicines.

“Let's go get the medicines from the village and come back.” You had told Ace leaving a kiss on his cheek. You had quickly changed by borrowing one of his shirts.

“Are you sure I don't have to come with you?” Ace didn't want to let you wander around alone, ok you were with your colleagues but he still preferred you to avoid it, despite everything there were bounties hanging on your heads that would have attracted many bounty hunters, but the sooner you went to get the medicine the sooner you could go back to him you answered him.

“Sure, just think about regaining your strength.” Ace had collapsed a few seconds after you had left the meeting room, sleep, narcolepsy and the wounds that had not healed had drained him of his last strength and carrying him to his tent had been a titanic undertaking.

“We'll be back in three hours.” You reassured him and left the tent, going to the girls and walking towards the nearest town.

Three hours later you returned as you promised and the whole crew breathed a sigh of relief that had not gone unnoticed by any of us.

“What do you want me to tell you, our nurses are known to be quite troublesome.” You could finally treat Ace with the right dose of painkillers and antibiotics, one that she would only wear off the next evening.

“We troublemakers?” You laughed as you took some cotton and soaked it in alcohol, you had to clean the wound on his chest and Ace was already glaring at you.

“Don't be such a baby, it's just rubbing alcohol.” You said placing it on his chest and pressing softly. Luckily the stitches hadn't broken in the previous clash.

“I never liked that thing.” Ace said glaring at the new cotton ball that was getting closer to his wound.

He was a child.

You gave him a kiss on the cheek to distract him and it happened.

“Big sister!” One of your girls had entered the tent: “Did I interrupt something?” She asked then noticing how you looked. You sitting on Ace's lap in a position that couldn't be misunderstood.

“No don't worry dear, tell me everything.” You responded, taking the gauze and starting to bandage it. Ace's torso, your boyfriend wanted to say otherwise but he held back.

“We found some natural hot springs, you have to come and bathe with us now! Commander Ace I'm commandeering our head nurse for the next two hours.” Your subordinate had said, grabbing you by the shoulders and dragging you out of the tent.

"HEY!" Ace was following you ready to catch you but the other girls prevented him: "This evening will be all for you, but for now we want to be with the big sister."

Luckily Izo and Satch had grabbed Ace by the shoulders and carried him to the other side to distract him. Telling him that it was right to leave some space for us girls.

“You are impossible, I don't even have a costume!” You said as the two of you arrived at the shores of the Hot Springs.

“Who said you need a swimsuit, we are all women!”

After all, they were right, but you regretted not spending time with Ace, you had been interrupted a few too many times for your liking in those hectic days, the only thing you wanted was to spend some intimate time with the your boyfriend.

But the thermal water was a panacea for your nerves that you would regret in the next few days. Only you girls, no man nearby and a lot of calm interrupted here and there by some otters that came close to smell you, were the inhabitants of that place and we had taken a liking to you.

There was so much calm that at a certain point you couldn't stand it anymore. You kind of missed the chaotic life that was with your sailing companions, but you missed Ace so much, you wanted to go and hug him, lock yourself in his tent and stay with him all night.

The spa had only partially dissipated the stress you had accumulated during those days, you knew well how to dispose of the remaining part with your fiery boyfriend.

“I'd say we go back to camp.” You said as you walked out and put on your underwear and white top. The cold air of the evening went perfectly with the feeling of warmth that the spa had left in you and this had made you even more nostalgic for Ace, usually he was the one who created that sensation that you liked so much.

"Already? But can't we stay a little longer?”

“It's been more than two hours, they'll be worried about us.” You replied as you looked around for your shorts and trying not to fall on the otter pups that must have been spinning around frantically. What naughty little brats.

“But boss, we're not enjoying this calm!”

“That's right and men can be alone, what could happen?”

You looked at each of your friends and just your look was enough to convince them that it was best to go back. You could already imagine what could happen to that rowdy gang of Pirates with the absence of you girls.

“We will come here more times in the next few days.” You finally said making the others laugh, they all agreed to go back to having some relaxation: "They took my shorts!" You added as you weaved through the vegetation to look for them.

The girls also noticed that a couple of their clothes were missing, but the otters that had kept you company were starting to get restless and seemed to want to tell you to forget about it and go back.

"That have?" You asked yourselves, not understanding the sudden agitation.

A sudden movement of air above your heads made you suddenly spin.

“Damn I didn't get them!” About ten men had appeared on the other side of the baths. A shiver ran down your spine as you slowly approached the others, that symbol they carried with them, a skull with a knife dividing it in two, were the men who had attacked you in the previous days.

“It's okay, just come here.” She tried to say one of them with a dodgy face, yellow teeth and some missing, his face marred by scars.

You remained f trying not to make any rash moves, you couldn't escape because they were surrounding you and you were disarming.

"Damnation." You said as the girls pressed closer to you. How long were they watching you? Had they come to you before? Did they know about the camp? Had they already attacked him? How was Ace?

It seemed to be a nightmare that didn't want to end, those men possessed Algamalotite weapons, Ace possessed a devil fruit and risked being seriously injured, he even risked his life.

You couldn't allow something like that.

Another blow forced you to duck to avoid a scythe hitting you, only then did you notice a scalpel on the ground, how it ended up there didn't interest you that much, it was always something to defend yourself with.

You took it without hesitation, hiding it inside your hand.

It was the seven of you against more than a dozen armed men.

You had to play smart.

And while the men surrounded you starting to list the worst things to do to you you tried to find a way to escape, the main path was out of the question, if they were intelligent they had put some men to guard it.

The forest seemed like the only way out, but it was characterized by such dense vegetation that it would only hinder you.

But it was the only option available.

“At my signal, run as fast as you can, no one looks back, let's be clear.” You said as one of the enemies approached you. If they had captured you you would have become a dangerous medium of exchange. You knew Santa so well that he would have done anything to bring you home safely, not to mention Ace, oh god if only he had found out about the danger you were in.

You couldn't let your boyfriend risk his life with the injuries he had. No, you would never forgive yourself.

“Big sister…” The man was a few steps away from you and the girls.

You inhaled deeply and only when he was one step away from you did you use the scalpel to hit him in the jugular. Blood splattered everywhere but you didn't care.

Some of the girls screamed at what had happened. The men in front of you were stunned. It was just what you needed.

“Leave now!” You shouted grabbing one of your little sisters and starting to run, you had the element of shock on your side and you had to make the most of it. The camp wasn't too far away, once you reached it you could have notified everyone.

Two gunshots made your blood run cold. Warning shots, they wanted to capture you without doing too much damage.

They wanted to avoid the wrath of your captain and his commanders.

“No one was hit. Let's run boss."

“In the vegetation! Hurry and don't scream, not even if a shot passes by you!” You immersed yourself in the forest among brambles and branches that hurt you every time you passed, your wounds burned and your muscles ached, but you had to keep running, soon the gunshots would no longer be a warning.

You were just thankful that you and your classmates had been through so much that you weren't scared so easily. The oxen and the silence were your best allies at that moment, but the voices of your opponents were too close, they seemed to have grown louder to boot.

And the camp fire still seemed to be so far away.

“Hold on, we're almost there!” You said as you saw Whitebeard's flag along with Red's flag waving in the night. Driven by a new spirit you overcame the last obstacles by starting to shout to attract attention, to hell with not getting caught,

“ACEEEE” You screamed seeing your boyfriend's hair near the fire.

The dark-haired man turned around looking for you until he saw you and he became alarmed along with the others. Ace started running in your direction without wasting time, without waiting for the others.

“Take them!” The men chasing you had increased and the shots were not sent as a warning but were trying to hit you.

“Run, don't turn around.” You said as you jumped over a log and helped one of your classmates up after she fell to the ground.

“Come on, come on!” you said starting to run again hearing Ace call your name.

Ace was running towards you, everyone was coming.

Then a gunshot and your world became darker. You fell to your knees as you tried to pack the wound on your pelvis. The blow was so strong that it knocked the bullet out and your body stopped reacting the moment your knees hit the ground.

“Run you fools!” You said trying to send the girls away but no one moved petrified of what had happened.

You felt the blood flow out of the wound, hot and thick and spilling onto the ground.

Ace stood in front of you motionless as if he was trying to act but he couldn't, but in his eyes you could see a fire you had never seen before.

He caught you before you fell to the ground and held you close to her: "Don't worry love, I'm here." He said standing up and facing the enemy.

There were few who had seen Ace's true anger when someone dear to him was attacked or hurt, and there were still few who had survived to tell the tale.

You felt Ace hand you over to someone else, you couldn't keep your eyes open from all the blood you were losing, but you felt Ace place his hair on you and tell you to hold on.

Then he went all dark and muffled and a white light covered your vision.

Waking up wasn't the best, you heard the sound of the machines you had in the infirmary intermittently and you couldn't focus on what was around you.

Breathing hurt, and the oxygen mask you wore scratched your cheeks. Only then did you notice a mass of black hair leaning on the same mattress as you and an orange hair, which you knew well, resting on top of you.

Ace was sleeping, he knew how long you had been unconscious or if he had been struck by an attack of narcolepsy.

You stroked his hair, lulling him to sleep and observing his expressions, until he opened his eyes.

“Hi Ace.” You greeted with a smile.

“Well woken up Love” He replied, leaving a kiss on your forehead and caressing your face and staring at you for endless minutes.

"What happened?" You asked trying to get up but being stopped by Ace.

“You pay attention to the points.” The brunette said as she helped you up without you trying too hard.

“She woke up! You woke up sweetie!” Satch's voice said as she walked in with a tray full of lots of breakfast things. Immediately afterwards she entered half the world into the infirmary.

“Big sister you recovered!” The girls did nothing but cry loudly, while the men tried to comfort them and make them calm down, they were full of bandages and plasters, only superficial wounds fortunately. Each one told how difficult it had been to operate because of the blood you had lost and that they hadn't stopped until dawn. Red Shanks' doctor had also come to help you.

The girls continued to cry and you were moved by that reaction and you also tried to calm them down, but they started crying more.

“You should have seen Ace after they took you and then the girls didn't let us get closer even with threats!” She had said Izo sitting on a stool near the bed and Ace had turned red with embarrassment.

“Not only did he knock out all the enemies who were chasing you, but this wretch here went straight to their camp, burning everything and everyone, without waiting for us.” Marco continued, hitting your boyfriend on the head with a newspaper.

“Ace!” You said, turning to him, “Stupid, you don't have to face so many enemies alone.” You grabbed him by the cheeks.

“Come on Love, they hurt you, I had to punish them properly.” The dark-haired man said, freeing his cheeks and squeezing your hands.

"Unconscious." You said with tears in your eyes.

God you nearly lost him, because if he had been injured you wouldn't have been able to treat him in those conditions.

“Commander Ace don't make big sister cry!”

A small argument had developed between Ace and the girls, Izo had promptly pulled you out to prevent your health from worsening while the others tried to calm the two parties down.

It was your captain's voice that called your attention: "Let her rest, Ace, keep an eye on her." So everyone had slowly left the infirmary and the two of you alone, the girls had first relieved you of all the devices and drips to which you were attached and now you felt freer.

They made sure Ace didn't do any harm and were very direct in saying in no uncertain terms that I shouldn't force myself in any way and then they left.

“Come close to me Ace.” Ace didn't have to be told twice and got into the infirmary bed with you, you were a little tight but feeling him so close made you feel good.

“Aren't the girls going to hang me somewhere?” He had asked as he kissed your cheeks.

“Don't worry, I'll stop him.” You said touching his bandage and looking when she was covered in blood.

“Ace…” You whispered, trying to get a better look.

“It's not mine…it's yours…” Ace said rubbing your back with his warm hands to calm you down. You could only imagine the pain Ace had felt seeing you lose all that blood.

“I didn't know how to fix this.” He whispered looking at your bandage and slowly caressing the area: "I was very scared, they held it down like you told me to do, but you kept bleeding and I..." Ace's eyes were shiny, you knew him well that yes he would have stopped himself from crying, but he needed it right now.

You held him tightly to you, hiding his face in your breast and whispering in his ear: "Love, I'm here, safe and sound, Grace and you, if you want to cry, do it, I'm sorry for having made you worry so much." Ed Ace had held you close to him and salty tears had started streaming down his face.

He had told you what he had felt in that moment, so much fear. His flames had become uncontrollable due to those emotions and he was grateful to be alone at that moment.

“Actually there was Marco who turned me off just in time.�� He added as you wiped the tears from his cheeks. You couldn't see him in that condition, Ace never cried - the only time he did was when he told you who he really was and about his past.

"Unconscious." You whispered, kissing him lightly: "You can't do these things if I'm not there to take care of you." You added, kissing him again.

“I don't like that the roles have been reversed.” Ace had said as he kissed you back.

“For once we can take a few days to ourselves.” You told him, kissing him again and biting his lower lip.

A pang had suddenly taken you from his side all the way down to his stomach. Ace had noticed this and immediately put himself in a different position, raising your torso slightly even though you said you were fine.

“You're clearly in pain! Please, just help me.” He said checking your bandage, luckily everything seemed to be fine.

“Ace don't worry.” You tried to reassure him, in a couple of days and some painkillers they would have you back on your feet.

“Don't you want to go back to work right away?!” Ace had placed you on top of him, you were now leaning against his chest and the tray full of Satch's food rested on your legs.

“How long has it been since you ate?” He asked then taking a grape and bringing it to your lips.

“How long has it been since you ate?” You responded with the same question by cutting a slice of meat and giving it to your boyfriend.

“For once I can take care of you.” He said to, Ace exasperated and leaving kisses on your neck. You laughed and then you continued breakfast, during which Ace told you what had happened at the camp, Redhair had already left the island and there had been no farewell fights or anything like that.

You chatted and exchanged small outpourings of love until the doctor came in and decreed that you could leave the infirmary but that you absolutely had to rest.

“Losing a girl like you! I really don't think about it, Ace don't make her get too tired please." The doctor said, giving another direct and blunt lecture.

“But why is everyone like this?!” Ace was carrying you in his arms, he had been adamant, he wouldn't make you so tired. You laughed and hugged him. Only you knew the delicacy that Ace put into every gesture that concerned you, even when you made love, no one would have ever said it but Ace - in addition to being fiery and passionate - was extremely sweet and kind. He cared a lot about making sure he didn't hurt you and making sure he respected your every need.

Yet you were happy to only know this sweet and delicate aspect of him.

“Ace let me change your bandages.” You said, getting up from the bed and grabbing the medical kit you had brought with you.

“I should be the one to change them for you. My wounds have already healed.” Your boyfriend had said stopping you from grabbing something and double checking your bandages, they were still clean and perfect.

A suspicious noise had made you freeze on the spot, voices calling for help and the nurses had reached your ears.

“Oh God, not again…” You said ready to leave to go see the situation.

"Do not even think about it." Ace said taking you back to bed and snickering.

“Ace but what if someone is hurt?” You protested once on the mattress, you tried to get up, but there was no way Ace would die.

“The girls are here, you absolutely need to rest.” Your boyfriend said, kissing you between your collarbones and slowly unbuttoning the shirt you were wearing at the time.

No other alarming voices had arrived from outside so the situation was under control.

“Will you take care of me?” You asked, settling yourself better on the pillows and waiting for your boyfriend to come closer.

“I will be your personal doctor.”

He kissed you, a kiss full of passion and tension accumulated in the previous days, a kiss that only tasted of so much love that you absolutely wanted to give him to heal those wounds that had remained in the soul and not in the flesh of both of you.

You kissed him back as his hands came down to cup your hips.

At that moment only the two of you existed and nothing else.

#one piece #portgas ace smut #ace smut #ace x reader #portogasdace #op #portgas ace x you #ace x oc #portgas d ace x reader #one piece ace #Happy_Ely🪷#portugas d ace

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teratocrat · 1 year ago

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A single yellow dwarf, unremarkable, of about 1.0218 solar masses. And in its corona, dancing aurora-dragons, ribbons and feathers of nine-colored light, singing and reciting poetry to each other and hitching freezing rides on the asteroids and comets that swing close enough to the star to leap out onto.

One small, dense planet, frosted over with incandescent stormclouds that snow lead flakes onto the slopes of volcanoes whose calderas are choked with galena coral reefs, the bones of colonies of radiation-tolerant extremophilic microorganisms, and where sulfur-swamps coat the lazy tideless beaches of the planet's only ocean, stirred and tilled by people like lanky bundles of black ironstraw, who heap their storehouses high with xanthous dried fusegrass.

One larger, much cooler planet, the calcite gleam of its moon hidden from the surface much of the time by cloudcover. warm, shallow, mildly acidic seas of lavender mucous, tentative marshes of weeping fuschia ferns, translucent lapine blobs with probing antennae that could be eyes or ears or questing tongues, and in the middle of the deepest ocean, a massive gelatinous thing, a superorganism like a rose with its stem plunging down into the volcanic baths of an oceanic rift, a mind from whom all other minds on this planet came and to which they occasionally return, eager to share their stories.

One rocky planet, bitterly cold and with the merest wisps of atmosphere clinging to it. Lifeless, all its water burned off it by baleful solar glare, the vast horizon-spanning saltpan seafloors bone-bare under the violet sky, and its moon hanging above like a clenched fist of black basalt.

An asteroid belt, scattered diamond motes of ice and stone and clay and metals, with three dwarf planets in its embrace, and the largest of them bearing a banner of silver and midnight, a unicorn guarding some alien tree.

A planet one might almost mistake for Earth, for all its snake-necked tortoise-camels and gold-feathered tigermen, for all its gleaming pentagonal ziggurats of diamond and steel, its three space elevators anchored in the emerald forests that girdle the equator, the capital of an interplanetary empire founded at the mouth of an immense river lazily piling hundreds of tons of silt a year into delta marshes, its vast ports berthing wide, flat-bottomed barges hauling iron and salt and sand and cinnabar, barrels of fish and wine and oil and perfumes, tigerman janissaries and scholars and poets and wizards, all tallied and accounted for in the lightning thoughts of supercomputers domesticated by bureaucracy. spaceplanes like silver songbirds or leaping fish ferrying the nobility (who disdain regular shuttle flights from the tips of the space elevators as base transportation for commoners) from the surface of the planet to its moon above, or to any number of gleaming stations in high orbit.

A gas giant, pale as pearl streaked with delicate pink and green pastels, skirted by dozens of captured child-moons, many of them bearing the same unicorn banner, some of them mined for this or that rare earth element, cities buried under the shielding crust of a scant handful, and two of them habitiformed enough to support imperial hunting grounds - managed grasslands or forests full of imported game - and hunting lodges of squat domes and towering spires, mirrored labyrinthine greenhouse-gardens and treasure-vaults of platinum jewelry set with nebula-gems snatched from their condensation-nests in the gas giant's depths.

Another gas giant, the blues and purples of a ripe plum blushing from clouds of midnight-black marbled with gold, icy rings slicing through swirling lunar orbits, merchants and mercenaries and privateers gliding from port to port in their sapphire-hulled ships, out where the empire scrabbles to find purchase. hollowed-out asteroids house cylindrical farms or monasteries of fatalistic leonine faiths or the huddled bodies of wound-down murine clockwork eunuchs, commissioned to advise and amuse some tiger-empress whose phoenix standard had long since faded into obscurity by the time the founder of the unicorn-banner dynasty first rallied soldiers to his cause.

An Earth-sized ball of grey-green ice, glassy smooth surfaces broken up by cryovolcanoes pumping volatiles up from a sooty core to rain down again in miserable pattering drizzles of methane through ammonia blizzards.

An ice giant, the immense azure sphere its inward neighbor might have been were it not for the vagaries of fate as involved in early star system formation, accompanied by seventeen bitterly cold moons whose tides have woven something enormous and ponderous of thought out of the inner sea of supercritical fluids.

a dozen or more dwarf planets of packed stone and ice, swinging through the outer black clouds on vastly elliptical orbits, witnesses to tumbling nickel-iron visitors and alien probes relaying streams of blurry photography and other observations back to some unknown homeworld as they fall endlessly through interstellar space.

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cuttyclowngirl · 2 days ago

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Daima EP.7 (Spoiler) Review/theories

• As I'd hoped, Shin removed Panzy's collar. Thankfully it can be easily removed by an easy to learn spell. (I smell rebellion)

• Manpuku dumplings being a type of small food that's worth 2 meals feels like a callback to when Senzu where just beans that kept you full for 10 day's. (Before becoming inta-heals)

• We finally get to see why a Gendarmerie plane flies by Goku in that shot in the OP with adult Goku on his nimbus. (Loving the "defy authority" themes here)

• Shin's old plane broke down due lacking a specific Demon Realm element(mineral) that served as a power source. Wonder if it'll parallel the "sky gold" repeatedly mentioned/seen in the Super manga.

• Yeah, Bulma was about as upset as I expected.

• The Minotaur's solo animated shot from the OP has been replaced by a group shot of members of castle Kadan+the Minotaur, likely implying we'll see said castle members & the king a lot throughout the series. (I find it very odd that the Minotaur's the only one with a drop shadow...)

• Cute little detail of Vegeta shielding Bulma when an unknown plane arrived at the Lookout.

• Ah, Kibito stays behind... Probably explains why he's not in any significant shots in the OP. (Bro is not part of the adventure)

• Panzy being able to spot a Gendarmerie ship from miles away without needing a telescope like Glorio did might explain the super close-up shot of her eye at the end of episode 4. She must have a special trait that'll be helpful later.

• The demons of the 3rd essentially being treated like unruly dogs "in need" of an equivalent of a shock collar sure is gross. Being forced to choose between less freedom or death is a topic that pops up a lot in Toriyama's stories. (Most demons even had the collars placed on them at birth, according to Panzy) The collars being made of a magic infused katchintite that grows with it's wearer is an exceedingly cruel & creepy idea befitting of Dr Arinsu's "mad scientist" title.

• As I suspected, Panzy's collar was going to impede her ability to travel between worlds. Thanks, Shin.

• So katchintite was a Demon Realm metal all along, found on the Glind's original home world "Kaishin". Sort of explains why we've only seen Glinds summon the stuff. (Zamasu even summoned some in the Super manga) Glinds having natural/magic control over an element from their home world makes sense to me.

• Aight, so several Gendarmerie are dead, we can agree on that right? A bunch of them just... Exploded. Wiped out. Casually. Goku even gave 1 ship the Team Rocket treatment. Nuts.

• Goku's instant transmission still works, thank goodness. Shin's quick thinking continues to come in clutch. Goku's cute lil run into the bushes afterwards & the lil wave was delightful.

• It feels like Panzy's fascination with the strength & ki abilities she's witnessed so far will at least lead to her asking for a few lessons. Who knows... Maybe she'll grow up to be the 3rd world's strongest ruler.

• We finally find out what Panzy's silly looking gun from the OP can do. "Disabling communications" so the surviving Gendarmerie can't call for backup. (Or at least, that's one of it's functions) But did it actually work? Time will tell.

• So Glind have their original Demon Realm names & their outer world names that they adopt likely as to not allude to their demon origins, since they are considered "gods" in the outer world. Goku was polite to ask if it'd be alright to refer to to Shin as "Nahare", (I'm sure Kakarot can relate) but he was also right about it not really feeling right, in my opinion. (Nahare is a nice sounding name & all, but I, like most, prefer Shin/Kaio-shin) Plus, Shin clearly didn't feel comfortable with a non-demon calling him by his demon name.

• Goku & crew's conversation prior to challenging Tamagami #3 was extremely JRPG-coded.

• A character (Hybis) being offered as many of something they could want but only asking for a small specific number of it (1 large pizza) is a very Toriyama bit. (But who introduced pizza to the demon realm? •-•)

• Panzy has a helpful hacker buddy named "Peral". I like their design & attitude.

• Welp, Goku & crew are all wanted now. That took 2 episodes.

• Gendarmerie planes can fly twice as fast as a regular demon plane, despite the dense air. Probably magic stemming from military privilege.

• Tamagami #3 being loud & boisterous despite coming off as a reserved, noble, mysterious guardian certainly subverted my expectations. Makes me excited to see what #1 & #2 are like. (Plus they're all implied to be stronger than Dabura. SO COOL!)

• I wonder if the mouths on those demon dumplings Goku was macking on were decorative, cuz I didn't hear the crunch of teeth on teeth. (Also, I didn't hear Goku wash his hands after flushing...)

• I sure hope folks who were commenting that they didn't find Shin interesting as a character since Daima began have come around after this.

• Seeing Shin Naruto run gave me whiplash.

• The next EP preview was extra long. Felt like I shouldn't have watched it.

#dragon ball #dbz #dragon ball z #db #dragon ball daima #dragonball daima #db daima #daima spoilers #daima #daima panzy #daima glorio #daima supreme kai #daima shin

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simsamsum2023 · 1 year ago

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Intertwined Pt 2: Unspoken truth

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Summary: You and Loki are bound together as soulmates through red string. You are also given poems to help you figure it out along the way.

Word count: 4.6k

Finally recovering from another episode of poems, you gained composer and looked towards Loki. He stared back at you with confusion in his eyes and you thought you saw his lips curve into a smirk. You were pulled from your thoughts when Steve started to talk.

"You know, last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everyone else, we ended up disagreeing" As he spoke, he took more and more steps closer to Loki.

"The soldier" The villain started to chuckle.

"Can I just say Mr Loki, you remind me of a green goblin" You stood beside Steve and Loki's smile dropped.

"A green goblin?" He almost seemed offended and you just nodded your head. "Guess you two are out of time"

"Oh, we're not the ones out of time" Steve replied and behind you Natasha zoomed closer in a ship. She pressed some buttons, which then opened a compartment to lower a gun type weapon.

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down" The woman you remembered as Nat said on the PA.

"Well that ain't gonna work. While you're at it, you might as well ask him to leave earth" You spoke into an earpiece to talk to the woman and she didn't reply to your sarcasm.

Loki then fired another blue shot. This time to the ship behind you. Natasha steered and dodged, while Steve threw his shield at the villain. The shield came back to him like a boomerang and the man ran and hit Loki over the head with it.

When he didn't fall down, you ran and threw a punch, only to have your wrist get caught. You looked up at the villainous man before you and saw that his eyes were so green, they looked like shining emeralds. You hadn't realised that Loki also stared and Steve punched him again. You were both shook from whatever was happening and Loki and Steve started to hit each other with their weapons.

When Steve was knocked to the ground, you ran up and did a high kick. Loki dodged out the way and the two of you carried on sparring. Only, it was more like you were performing a dance.

"You're a good fighter darling" Loki said as he blocked another punch.

"You're not so bad yourself" You replied with a playful smirk as he grabbed your wrist and you twirled around. You decided to use the full of your power and you reached to touch the side of Loki's head. When you did, Loki just grabbed your wrist again but didnt remove it from its place.

"How did you get here?" Loki realised what you were doing and tried to stop himself from speaking.

"The Tesseract acted as a gateway and I walked through" He replied and then silently cursed himself for being suaded to answer you.

"And why is it, you're here?" You wanted him to answer one more question. You wanted to be of use to Fury and not let him down. However, Loki pushed your hand away before your powers could betray his silence.

"Not this time miss mischief" The male smirked at your annoyed expression.

The dance fighting continued until you were able to land a punch. Part of you meant to punch him like that, but another part felt horrible.

You were going to continue, when you heard rock music playing from the ship and something flying over. The closer it got, the more you saw that it was someone in a red metal suit. They lifted both their hands and shot golden blasts at the horned villain. He flew back to the ground against some concrete stairs and you slightly winced.

The flying figure landed in front of him and he stood in a fighting stance, with weapons popping out from the back of the suit. Steve and you joined him.

"Make your move Reindeer games" The figure spoke in a muffled voice. You laughed and everyone looked at you.

"What, it was funny. Although I like green goblin better" You shrugged and when you looked down, you saw Loki trying to hold back a smile.

Loki proceeded to move his hands apart and slowly, his armour disappeared. Almost like magic and left his heads up as if he was being arrested. In return, the figure also lowered his weapons.

"Good move" Loki stared at you intensely as Steve sighed.

"Mr Stark" You whipped your head around.

"Captain" Was the suits reply.

"Wait! That's Mr stark under there?" You pointed to the suit and Steve gave you a cold stare.

"Yes, it was in the debriefing package that you said you read. Did you not?" The man before you folded his arms and waited for your answer.

"I skimmed it actually" You looked away in embarrassment and Steve just rolled his eyes.

"Either way, good to meet you kid" Stark put his metal arm out and you shook it with a smile.

"Nice to meet you too, big fan of your work" The man chuckled before restraining the villain and loading him onto the ship. You walked behind with Steve.

"So, you're just gonna start acting like a dick to me" You snapped quietly.

"Let's not do this now, we're on a mission" Steve answered you shortly.

"To do what? We won against the villain and now all that's left is dropping him off. Plus he's harmless right now" You whispered back harshly.

"Still, lets not right now" He sped up in front and you huffed with annoyance.

Once the ship took off, you sat next to Loki and stared at him. Steve and Stark stood near the cockpit, all while giving you a confused glance. Stark had finally removed the mask on his suit and looked just like you imagined. He had brown spiky hair and a goatee.

Loki never looked in your direction, but you could tell he knew what you were thinking.

"I don't know anything about what we saw" The man turned to you with a sort of sad smile and you found yourself focusing in on his emerald eyes again.

"I wasn't thinking about that" When in actual fact you were and now you were looking at every detail that formed on his face.

"Don't try to deceive me, you're not the only one that can read minds darling"

"don't call me darling" You chuckled.

"Why ever not?" Loki spoke with such a soft tone, that you felt small Goosebumps on your arms.

"Because, you don't know me and i don't know you"

"Trust me, there'll be plenty of that in the future" The male gave you a wink.

"Sure" You smirked.

"Only to agent y/n" You heard Natasha whisper into her headset.

"I'll be right back green goblin, don't go anywhere" You patted the villain on the back and he smiled softly.

"I don't like it" You heard Steve say.

"What don't you like?" You asked and the man slightly glared at you.

"I don't like the fact that you're acting all chummy with that guy" Steve pointed to Loki.

"Are you jealous of a villain? Cause last I checked we weren't anything, exclusive" The last word rolled on your tongue like a bad taste.

"I'm not jealous" The blonde retaliated, but you could clearly see him clenching his jaw as if to stop himself from throwing any punches.

"Then what is it?"

"It has never been that easy. He packs a wallop" That's when you chuckled.

"Still, you are pretty spry for an older fellow" Stark joins. "What's your thing, Pilates?"

"What?" The question caught Steve off guard.

"It's like calisthenics. You must've missed a couple things, doing time as a Capsicle" Stark finished and you snickered at the new nickname until you calmed down.

"Nah, goes to the gym and punches the bags till they fall off" You reply without thinking.

"Fury didn't tell me he was calling you in" The blonde ignored your response.

"You told me you knew and that it was in the debriefing" You yelled.

"I lied, just wanted to mess with you" The male shrugged.

"Well, there's a lot of things Fury doesn't tell you" Stark answered.

Before you knew it, lightning was shooting out left, right and centre around the ship. It was almost like it came out of nowhere. Everyone looked to Loki and he had an expression that made him seem uncomfortable and worried.

"What, scared of a little thunder?" Steve asked.

"I'm not overly fond of who follows" You questioned his meaning and soon heard a thump on the top of the ship.

"I swear if that's an enemy of yours, I want no part of it Loki!" You stated as you threw your hands in the air. Stark put on his mask and opened the end hatch.

"What're you doing?" Steve asked and a tall figure dropped on the platform.

"Stark is apparently being hospitable and letting this asshole in" You gestured to a man who wore some type of silver armour and a red cape. He had long hair, which was blonder than Steve's and a stubble. "Sorry sir, would you like anything to drink?" You sarcastically gestured for the man to enter and bowed.

Tony stood in front and the stranger smashed an unseemly large hammer into his chest, leaving him to fly backwards. The man then moved over to where Loki was and pulled him up to face him. They stared for a few seconds before Loki was dragged out the ship.

"Get back here, we need him!!" You yelled as you chased them to the platform and stopped when they dropped out.

"Now there's that guy" Tony said as he finally stood back up. You stormed back over and punched Steve in the arm.

"Is he Asgardian?" Nat asked from her pilots seat.

"A friendly?" Steve asked.

"Is he an accomplice?" You asked.

"Doesn't matter. If he frees Loki or kills him, the Tesseract's lost" Was all Stark replied with as he started walking back to the end of the ship.

"Hey, we at least need a plan tin can" You shout as you followed the suited man.

"I have a plan and don't call me that" You could imagine him rolling his eyes.

"I'm coming with you then" As Stark started to fly to the ground, you jumped after him and grabbed his foot.

"Are you kidding me? Let go!!" Stark yelled down to you as he lost his balance.

"No, I said I was coming" As you spoke, you started to lose your grip and then all together, fell from the sky.

You plummeted to the ground and screamed as much as you could. Looking up, it didn't seem that Stark realised you had slipped. You continued to scream until you felt a pair of strong arms grab you in a bridal style and flew to the ground. It wasn't till you looked up, that you saw the man who took Loki and that you were stood atop a mountain.

"Are you alright?" The man spoke with concern and had had ocean blue eyes.

"Huh, so you do have manners" You plopped out of his grasp and saw Loki in front of you. "Two of you working together or is this some kind of rivalry?" You pulled your lips into a tight line as you heard Loki laugh.

"Ha, that's funny. No, this runs deeper than rivalry darling" He smiled wickedly.

"We're brothers" The man behind said and your eyes widened.

"Sure we grew up together, but I was always a shadow to his greatness" You saw the slightest bit of pain wash over Loki's face before it disappeared into darkness. "I have seen the true power of the Tesseract, and when I wield it..."

"Who showed you this power? Who controls the would be king?" The blonde walked closer to Loki and grabbed his shoulders.

"I am a king!!" Loki yelled and you flinched.

"Not here!" The man yelled back and you walked beside him.

"Loki, where is the Tesseract?" You asked softly as you carefully placed a hand on his cheek. The villain looked at you with sadness and then a smile.

"I don't have it my dear" The blonde beside you went to throw a punch and you stood in the way, taking the hard blow. Before the male took a step forward, you saw Stark fly into him and past you and Loki.

You dropped to the ground and clung to your cheek. The pain caused a ringing in your ears and your cheek felt hot and tingly. You felt arms hold you by the shoulders and then someone lift your chin up. Tears began to prick at bottom of your eyes, threatening to drop. When you finally looked up to see the figure, you were surprised to see Loki and that's when the tears ran down.

"Why are you crying my dear?" He wiped your cheeks softly and smiled.

"Why didn't you run?" You spoke between cries.

"I'm sorry? I don't think I follow"

"Why didn't you run when that guy got flown to god knows where?" You looked at him quizzically.

"Because you're hurt" He furrowed his brows as if it was the most obvious answer and you grinned. "Now let me see" Loki whispered as he took hold of your hand and moved it away from your cheek.

"Is it bad?" You muttered and the man shook his head.

"Just red, but should go down soon" The male stroked the redness of your cheek and you felt the ease of where the pain used to be.

"Thank you, Loki"

"Anytime, darling" You playfully pushed his shoulder.

"Thought I told you not to call me that"

"And I thought you knew, I don't listen to anyone" The male chuckled and locked eyes with you. You both inched a little closer and then heard a loud crash, snapping you to look away from one another.

Loki coughed behind you and you took in a big sigh. Hearing a few yells you turned to see that at the bottom of the cliff, Stark and the blonde were in the middle of a fight. The guy with the hammer, lifted it high and conjured up lightning.

"You have got to be kidding" You gritted and Loki laughed at your reaction. "What you laughing at green goblin?"

"No reason" He shrugged as the guy then shot the lightning towards Tony, frying up his suit. However, he shot right back.

Tony flew at the blonde guy and they continued to fight as they drew further away from you.

"Guess they forgot I'm here" You threw your arms up and slapped your lap.

"I'm sure they'll return" Loki stood up.

"Leaving already?" You stared at him wondering what to do now.

"If I stay, I'll get caught and I've had enough of that for one day" He smiled widely and you too stood up.

"What makes you think I won't stop you?" You folded your arms over your chest and Loki walked up to you. He leaned in and his lips brushed against your ear.

"Because you wouldn't of stopped me if I had kissed you moments ago" His voice was barely a whisper and his breath felt hot against your skin.

You could of sworn that the redness from where you were punched grew even redder. You tried to respond but your voice had hitched and you just stood awkwardly as Loki turned away and fled.

Soon, you heard a sort of explosion and carefully ran down a narrow path that led to the bottom of the cliff. You ran and made it to the guys before they all thought you were dead.

"Miss me" You grinned widely and Tony shook your hand.

"Thought you were dead pipsqueak" You rolled your eyes at the new name.

"At least it's better than Capsicle" You laughed as you looked to Steve.

"Midgardian, we haven't formally met. I'm Thor" The blonde who saved you smiled.

"Nice to meet you, I'm y/n" You smiled back.

"As much as I like meetings like these. Here's a question agent, where's Loki?" Steve asked harshly.

"He got away from me" You lied and then you heard Nat on your headset.

"We've located and restrained Loki, come back and we'll head to Mr Fury" The woman spoke and the line went dead.

Steve held onto Tony's hands as he flew up and you held onto Thor. It didn't take long for your small group to reach the ship and when saw Loki, you gave him a sad smile.

You never said a word until you reached the larger ship that Fury was on. A few guards had come to collect the villain and escorted him through some doors and your group made its way to the bridge. Everyone was listening in to Nick and Loki's conversation through a PA.

Although everyone was listening, your mind was elsewhere. You would be too, if it wasn't for the man who almost kissed you. You felt for your lips and tried to imagine what it would've been like. Soft and sweet or rough and heated. Banner spoke and it snapped you from any thoughts that should be like forbidden fruit to you.

"Really grows on you doesn't he?"

"Loki's gonna drag this out. So, Thor, what's his play?" Steve asked the man that stood deep in thought.

"He has an army called the Chitauri. They're not from Asgard, nor any world known" He sadly looked around the room of your group. "He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth, in return, I suspect, the Tesseract" He finished.

"An army, from outer space" Steve looked to the group and then you.

"He's building another portal then" You roll your eyes.

"That's what he needs Erik Selvig for" Banner finished.

"Selvig?" Thor looked at the man quizzically.

"He's an astrophysicist" Banner replied.

"A friend" Thor responded.

"Loki has him under some kind of spell" Natasha mentioned with a sadness upon her face.

"And one of ours" You mentioned.

"I want to know why Loki let us take him. He's not leading an army from here" Steve wondered aloud.

"Then let me go in and find out" You stood in front of Mr Capsicle.

"Y/n, I don't think we should focus on Loki right now" Banner defended.

"Well you guys can focus on other situations, I'll focus on Loki" You stormed out to the hall and heard footsteps behind you.

"You do know he killed 80 people in 2 days right?" Nat warned and you continued walking.

"Y/n, wait!" Steve yelled as he grabbed your arm to turn you around. You shook it off and stared daggers into his gaze.

"What do you want Captain?" You spat out the last word and Steve winced.

"I'm sorry, about before. I never once thought it was just fooling around"

"Then why lie to me? Why hurt me like that?" Every question was finished with a tear staining your cheeks.

"I don't know, maybe I didn't want a repeat of what happened to me last time" Steve looked at the ground and your heart broke. You felt for his cheek and smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry, but you have lied to me one too many times now, it's best we just leave it in the past now"

You turned to walk away again and this time, Steve pulled you back and locked his lips with yours for a brief second. He let you go and without another word left to head back to the bridge.

You found the room that was holding Loki and with a deep breath, you walked in. Seeing Loki had somehow put your mind at ease and made you question what you were doing.

"Hello daring, miss me already?" The mischievous man smirked towards you.

"Always the charmer aren't you?" You smirked back and walked closer to the cage. "You gonna tell us anything about your intentions?" You looked at him hopefully.

"Sorry dear, I can't do that" His smile faded and he continued to stand tall before you.

"Can't, or won't?" You folded your arms over your chest as the god before you thought long and hard.

"Won't I'm afraid" He shrugged.

You pressed some buttons that opened the door and when you walked in, they shut automatically.

"Will you tell me anything that's the truth" You pleaded and the man smiled weakly.

"I like you miss mischief" He smiled as he caressed your cheek and you did the same.

"Then tell me why you let yourself get caught" You smiled slightly in hopes he'll allow the power to force his truth out.

"Sorry darling, that doesn't work on me anymore" The man smirked devilishly as he lightly touched your hand.

He gazed deeply into your eyes as he inched in closer. He then placed another hand upon your hip and pulled you in to meet him in the middle. Your breath hitched from the fast movement and you locked your eyes onto the lines of his lips. You threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him in to close the remaining gap between you. You pulled away just as quick as you went in.

"I'll continue to play your little game, green goblin" You winked and walked out the prison cell.

"Touché, my dear" The villain laughed as you left to head back to the bridge.

Everyone turned and stared you down when you returned.

"Where've you been agent?" Tony asked and you shrugged in return.

"Thought I could get info from greenie" You answered.

"Anyway, me and Banner are going to do some tracking, you in to have fun?" Stark patted you on the back as the two left the room and you ran after them.

You mainly looked at the sceptor and listened as the two men geeked out about the science of it all. Tony also shocked Banner on the side and you laughed.

"You really have got a lid on it haven't you". Stark seemed impressed and you heard the yelling of Steve behind you.

"Is everything just a joke to you?" His voice boomed in the room.

"Steve, it's okay just calm down" You stepped in front of him.

"Funny things are" Tony put out bluntly and you turned to glare at him.

"Not helping" You spat.

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship, isn't funny. No offence doc" Steve's glance was cold.

"Why don't you leave and cool down for a bit?" You tried to push the tall male through the doors, but failed.

"You need to focus on the problem Mr Stark and y/n why don't you leave instead" Steve spoke harshly.

"Because I don't want to" The glared at the man and looked back at Tony.

"First off, leave y/n alone. Second, what, you think I'm not? Why did Fury call us in? Why now? Why not before? What isn't he telling us?" Starks questions made you stop and think what you hadn't thought before until now.

"You have a point"

"I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables"

"You think Fury's hiding something?" Steve questioned.

"He's a spy Captain. 'the' spy, his secrets have secrets. Bugging her too, isn't it" Tony pointed to you and you nodded slightly.

"Not as much as Einstein here" You chuckled and you saw Tony's lips twitch up a little.

"What about you doctor?" Steve asked as he faced Banner, who sighed.

"'A warm light for all mankind' Loki's jab at Fury about the cube" He started.

"Yeah, we heard it" You pointed out.

"I think that was meant for you" Banner turned to Stark. "Even if Barton didn't tell Loki about the tower, it was still all over the news"

"The Stark tower? That big, ugly..." You elbowed him in the arm to shut up and Tony gave him a sort of sad glance. "Building in New York?"

"It's powered by an arc reactor, a self-sustaining energy source" Banner continued.

"So, your saying, it could run itself for like what, a year?" You asked.

"It's just a prototype" Tony shrugged it off. "I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now"

"Then why didn't S.H.I.E.L.D bring him in on the Tesseract project?" You pointed out the big question.

"And what are they doing in the energy business in the first place?" Banner joined.

"I guess I should look into that once my decryption program finishes breaking into all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secure files" Tony starts to walk out as he looks at a tablet in his hands.

"I'm sorry, did you say..." You look at Steve.

"Just let him do his thing, maybe he'll find something useful"

"Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours, I'll know every dirty secret S.H.I.E.L.D has ever tried to hide"

"If you get caught, you're screwed" You laugh nervously.

"Maybe, blueberry?" He offers you a container of the fruit and you gladly took a few.

"And you're confused as to why they didn't want you around" You glared at Steve again.

"An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, not awesome" You laugh at Tony's comment and Steve rolls his eyes.

"I think Loki's trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed"

"Have you questioned him about his motives yet?" You glance at the tall blonde in front of you.

"No, but I'm sure you have" He smirked, but in a dark way as if he knows what happened in the cell.

"Like I said, my power doesn't seem to work on him anymore" You said simply.

"Anyway, we have orders and we should follow them"

"Followings not really my style" Tony answered.

"And you're all about style aren't you?"

"Okayyy, I'm gonna leave you boys to do whatever the hell you're doing and I'm gonna rest up" You patted Tony on the shoulder and left for your room.

The walk to your room was long and you were able to think about the events that took place. Starting with the poems, the red string that connected you to Loki and then the kiss. Although it was short, you still felt the tenderness of his lips, they were soft and kind.

Once in, you sat at the edge of the bed and opened browser on your phone. You finally typed in about red string and found that it appears when soulmates are finally united. Then you realised, if you and Loki shared the same strand of red string, it meant you were...

The excruciating headaches returned and you screamed in pain. Then you heard the familiar voice call to you.

His raven hair, like midnight's cloak,

Frames a face with secrets spoke.

Fair features veiled in cunning disguise,

A master of chaos, with clever eyes.

A hue of green adorns his sly disguise,

A colour that holds secrets, worth the prize.

Like the lush grasses in a hidden grove,

Or the envy that fuels his plans, bold and rove.

The poem was longer than before and more descriptive. The headaches stopped and you heard yelling outside your door. Getting up slowly, you walked and opened it to see the guys and Nat standing there panicked.

"What's wrong?" You asked innocently.

"We heard you screaming, is everything okay agent?" Natasha asked as she checked your body like Steve had before.

"I'm fine, I just saw a spider. It's gone now though" It was the most logical answer you could come up with on the spot.

Everyone looked at you suspiciously, but all left anyway. You thought more on the new poem and you knew what the unspoken truth was. Loki was your soulmate and you are linked for eternity.

@huntress-artemiss

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rose-arwen-padme · 3 days ago

Text

The Jedi Council waited respectfully so he could walk down the ship's ramp first.

Technically, the first boots that met the plaza floor were those of his new guard. New to him—not new to the position. Each of these stone-faced men was already tall, but the black plumes jetting out from their helmets added to their imposing frames. Neither the movement of their uniformed march nor the innocent wind could bend the stricken feathers. The uneducated eye would think these virile men in their metallic armor were the more formidable unit, in stark contrast to the variably aged Jedi Masters hanging behind in their soft, unassuming robes.

Their weapons were on full display. This was about presentation as much as it was about protection. The guards covered as much vertical air as the Neimoidians with their own high hats, yet in their bearing the sentries possessed none of the defeat or cowardliness.

He didn't look at the failed oppressors when he strolled right past them; there wasn't even an acknowledgment of their existence. Perhaps that should have been a sign, but clues are more difficult to spot when you aren't aware you should be looking for them. He was nothing but grins and celebration. Puffed sleeves swung left to right as he traveled forward. This was when he still infused his wardrobe with welcoming blues and browns in the fashion of Naboo's wealthiest—carryovers from decades spent representing them. Long fabrics in charcoal, black, and blood red came later.

I observed from afar as he cordially greeted Obi-Wan. The mild distance and the breeze prevented a clear listening, but I heard him say something about bravery. Then his eyes shifted to the blond-haired boy idling at the Jedi's hip. No amount of space between me and the trio could filter the beaming smile that spread till maxed, nor could I miss the way his eyes went from polite automation to enthralled.

Then I watched—as a pleased spectator to this event, and as a friend—when the new leader of the Galactic Republic placed his hand on Ani's shoulder. The boy was just as worthy of adoration and admiration as anyone, but I recognized what a special moment this was. Though he was so much more than his background, Ani was a former slave from the Outer Rim, only recently indoctrinated into our Republic's fold. Yet the Supreme Chancellor—the most powerful figure in the galaxy; a demon who knew exactly what he was doing—placed a hand of friendship and blessing on the very tunic Ani had worn in his slavery.

Claiming him. Publicly claiming him in front of all of us—the Jedi Council, Obi-Wan, and although I was the unexpected chess piece no one saw coming at the time, he even claimed Anakin right in front of me.

None of us realized what we had just witnessed. When we felt the breeze snake through our ranks, we never suspected it was Fate infiltrating the show. Brushing up against our shoulders. Whispering condolences behind our ears. I remember the weight of my black gown, donned for mourning. I remember the relief I felt at his victory with the Senate, though Naboo had already secured hers without it. I remember the paleness of his hand as it briefly rested next to the boy's tan neck. A bloodless beast touching the sun god heir.

Still grinning, he paraded next towards my group, success at his public and private triumphs electrifying his eyes. Congratulations were exchanged between us like tokens. He smiled at me, and he spoke pretty words for "peace" and "prosperity."

I smiled back and welcomed him inside the palace. Later that evening, we stood side-by-side as Qui-Gon Jinn burned.

If I'd known then what I know now, I would have run forward while Palpatine was still disembarking from the ship, put my body between him and Ani in order to shield the boy, and screamed.

Read more of Suppression, a fanfic telling the story of AOTC from Padmé’s POV, at Archive of Our Own.

#star wars #anidala #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #anakin and padme #attack of the clones #aotc #padme #sw prequels #the phatom menace #sw fic #star wars fanfiction #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #chancellor palpatine

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safarigirlsp · 2 years ago

Text

Level Ten

Commander Mills x Reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Warnings: NSFW. Action. Smut. Violence. Blood. Hot Toxic Masculinity. Enemies to Lovers. Idiots in Love. The following warnings occur in a simulation in the story, so not really warnings, but just in case. Injuries to Reader and Mills. Alien Violence. Violence Against Children.

AO3 Link

Author’s Note: Let's run a competitive combat drill with Commander Mills! This is really just a lot of the self indulgent bs I like. Mills is named Nicholas in my canon and he's a fun cocky bastard here.

This is part of a big Mills story I'm working on that I'll post eventually, but this was also fun as a vignette. For purposes of this vignette, this sounds like the beginning because I’m incapable of just jumping into something without context, but it won’t be in beginning of the bigger fic.

A stout blonde knight in full body plate armor stood seven feet away from you on the tournament field. He was not wearing a helmet, letting you clearly see his ugly belligerent face and terrible mullet. Like you, he was sweating and breathing heavily, sounding like a snorting hog at this point in your battle. His sword and yours both lay broken and discarded somewhere on the field, along with each of your splintered shields. His last weapon was a long, vicious dagger, which he held in his right hand. You were armed with the same weapon, and you drew it now. Sunlight glinted off the sharp point of your dagger as you tested its weight and balance in your hand. Hundreds of peasants in the stands cheered.

The knight had bested you so far at swordplay, but he had lived on the wrong continent to benefit from martial arts and elite hand-to-hand combat training as you had. The knight squinted his beady eyes at you and charged, dagger slashing toward your throat from the side. You ducked below his sideways slash, you were more agile than the knight if not more powerful. You straightened as his arm passed over your head and immediately used your dagger to block his retaliatory backswing.

The daggers sparked with the clang of metal on metal, and you instantly struck a ferocious left elbow to the knight’s exposed jaw. Blood spewed from his mouth and he was momentarily dazed, his mouth hanging open from the broken hinge of his jaw. It was just the opening you needed. You reversed your left hand in an open bearpaw strike to his face with all your force behind it. You hooked your thumb under his pig nose when your strike landed, driving the sharp nasal bones straight up into his brain. It was a killing strike that required precise placement but relatively little force. The knight collapsed to the ground instantly, as quick as if you had shot him right between the eyes, convulsing and twitching spasmodically.

“Combat training session number sixty-nine, level eight complete,” the pleasant feminine voice of the ship’s artificial intelligence informed you. “Do you want to proceed to the next level?”

*******************************************************************************************

Years in stasis took its toll on a body. Even if you awoke quote ‘healthy,’ there were always physiological issues and side effects that came from being under for a prolonged period of time. Waking up from a relaxing nap that lingered too long or coming out from under anesthesia after a medical procedure could be hell, but that was nothing compared to a long-term stint in stasis. It was due to the body’s natural recovery and re-acclimation period that every human aboard the ship Artemis was awakened three months before reaching their final destination.

That and the equally paramount concern of forming positive relationships with the other people aboard. This was often the trickiest part of such a long-term and large-scale mission, and the component that was least predictable despite the most impressive science available. Even the most predictable psychological profiles could grow deviant under such conditions.

The planet toward which your ship, the Artemis, flew was cerulean blue and inviting, encircled by azure and golden rings like Saturn but far more beautiful. It had been dubbed Olympus by the man who discovered it due to its ethereal visage that made it look like home to the gods. Also, because it may indeed be home to the architects of your home planet, as tantamount to living gods as anything mankind had discovered.

The man who made the discovery of both the planet and the evidence of its possible inhabitants was the CEO of the largest mining company on Earth who had the authority to drill into the very heart of the planet. It was there, hidden in the depths of what Dante would have labeled a Circle of Hell that he had discovered a ‘map,’ more ancient than any human artifact, that detailed a chart of the universe far more thorough than anything NASA had ever dreamed. Using this map and his almost limitless resources, the man had discovered Olympus and had mounted an unprecedented expedition to discover her secrets.

That man was your father. He was now too advanced in years to take part on the mission into the unknown, so he sent the future CEO of his trillion-dollar company, his first in command. You.

*******************************************************************************************

The months-long final approach to Olympus was the perfect opportunity to get in peak physical condition. A new, unexplored planet held infinite possibilities for what one may encounter, from environment to wildlife to populace. Most of those possibilities, likelihoods even, were frightening. Even the best scientific estimates were only fancy guesses, and no one really knew what to expect when you landed on Olympus. The best anyone could do was to be as prepared as possible, both mentally and physically, which included being in your best physical condition. You spent long hours in the gym each day, both to hone your physique and your combat skills. It also served as a valid excuse to avoid obligatory interpersonal interactions and as a useful distraction from matters that had become far too intrusive in your thoughts.

Besides, it would take you years to work through every combat training simulation programmed into the ship’s computer. And you had to admit, you enjoyed shooting aliens, slicing samurais, and kicking that ugly knight’s ass every time.

*******************************************************************************************

Nicholas Mills was pissed. He was the Mission Commander and the pilot. He was the man in charge of any and every decision involving flight or course, and every military action or inaction once on-planet. He should be head of the whole fucking mission, but this was a private expedition, not a miliary campaign, and he had been hired by a CEO with too much money. Mills was a hired hand, and he resented the fuck out of it. This is what his life had come to after earning more bars on his chest than most generals, because of one fated military transport mission that had literally crashed and burned with him at the helm. Mills used to hate mercenaries, and now he was one himself.

But by God, the things that were under his purview, his control, he was still the Commander, and he didn’t take it lightly when someone usurped his authority. It was fast becoming a problem on this particular expedition, due to one intrusive source.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Mills boomed as he burst through the door into the combat simulator. At his intrusion, the drama that had been unfolding in an alien landscape of immersive three-dimensional holograms and virtual reality sizzled like static on a tv screen and then evaporated. The room was plunged back into its dimly lit innocuous gray walls and black foamy training mat underfoot. A rack of weapons that interfaced with the program and were otherwise impotent hung on the wall by the entrance.

“Now?” you huffed angrily. You had spent the morning training in virtual combat and scaling obstacles in the landscape, only to be interrupted now near the end of your programmed mission. You were sweaty and sore and entirely not in the mood for Mills and the omnipresent chip on his shoulder. “Right now, I’m getting ready to reprimand a subordinate.”

“Subordinate?” Mills scoffed, stalking close to you with his chest puffed in an aggressive display of posturing. “Honey, I’m the highest ranking officer here and nobody’s fucking subordinate.”

“Did you come here to debate semantics?” you postured just as belligerently, stepping close to him, unintimidated. “I would say that every man, woman, and animal on my payroll is my subordinate.”

“Animal, huh?” Mills glared at you, his jaw clenching and a little aggravated twitch jumping beneath his left eye. “I’ll agree I may be your beast of fucking burden since you’re technically the boss of this expedition, but I’m damn sure not your subordinate.”

“What was that?” You leaned in toward him, sarcastically raising a hand to cup your ear. “What did you call me exactly? I didn’t quite hear you.”

Mills continued glaring at you. Silently.

“Did you call me the boss?” Now, you smiled icily. “I’m glad you at least understand that simple concept. Yes, Commander, I am the boss.”

“I don’t give a damn what little pet names you like, you have no business overriding my flight commands.” Mills took another step closer to you, his amber eyes ferociously boring into yours. “You altered my course on approach to Olympus. I spent weeks charting the best course before we disembarked. Not to mention your proposed course will take us an extra two weeks to navigate. That impacts every resource on this ship, fuel included.”

“Your charted course takes us through an asteroid belt,” you accused and continued cruelly. “Didn’t you learn about flying too close to asteroids a couple years ago? I seem to recall hearing something about that.”

Mills glared at you for a long moment before releasing a controlled breath. “That was an undocumented field that my ship didn’t detect. This is totally different. I know it’s out there and where every rock is. I can fly through anything, including a known asteroid field. It’s cake.”

“I, for one, prefer my cake without large chunks of debris inside it.” You turned back to re-engage your combat training. “And since I am the boss and the owner of this ship, my preference is the one we will be abiding.”

Mills grabbed your arm, stopping you from walking away from him, and spun you roughly back around to face him. He leaned toward you and his deep voice was gravely. “I know what it’s like to have a ship full of deaths on your conscience because of a mistake. Believe me, Boss, you never want to know what that feels like.”

“I’d also prefer living a nice long life without knowing what it feels like to be blown to smithereens by flying into an asteroid.” You glared right back at him, meeting his eyes confidently.

“You hired me for a reason,” Mills growled, changing his tactic. “I did my homework and I charted the best course. You hired the best man for this job and you better fucking listen to him. I’m right.”

“I don’t take orders. I barely take suggestions.” You smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “Occasionally, I’ll make an exception in bed.”

“You want me to prove I’m man enough for you, is that it?” Mills smirked too, issuing a challenge he assumed you wouldn’t meet.

“I do enjoy some good old-fashioned chest pounding.” You looked around the stark simulator room, thinking. “There are thousands of scenarios based on what we know of the planet we’re orbiting. The simulator imagines all possible types of hostile alien species that we might encounter. And then for training purposes, creates a survival mission.”

“I know what it does, Boss. Haven’t you checked who’s in the top marks in the simulator’s history?” Mills quipped, intentionally flexing his massive chest and taking note when you watched hungrily. “I’ll give you credit, though. You do alright on the girly levels.”

“Girly levels?” you laughed angrily. “I train on levels seven and eight out of ten.”

“Isn’t that cute,” he said nonchalantly with every intention of poking you. You felt your skin heat with indignance as your eyes seared into his. Mills let his eyes trail down your body and then back to hold yours. “You sure are pretty when you’re mad.”

“If I’m pretty when I’m mad then you must want to be fucking dazzled, Mills.” You narrowed your eyes at him and addressed the computer. “Run combat drill, level ten.”

“Loading combat drill for two participants, level ten,” the pleasant voice replied.

“So, you like it rough, huh Boss?” Mills prodded you as he walked to the weapons rack and grabbed you each a blaster.

“I’m waiting to be impressed, Commander,” you told him as you took one of the blasters. The room around you began to transform into a dense green jungle as the program initiated, complete with the sounds of birds, insects, and the current of a distant river. You adjusted the watch on your wrist that interfaced with the ship’s computer.

“Hmmm,” he gave you a rich bedroom growl and cocked his blaster. “I’d never want to keep a girl like you waiting.”

“How shall we play, Commander?” you asked, adding a sultrily teasing lilt to your voice, intentionally pulling his focus away from where he needed it most for the simulation. You noted with pride when he shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. “Whoever makes the most kills wins?”

“If you can even make it to the finish line on level ten without an endgame wound, I’ll count that as a win in your corner.” Mills reached into his pocket and retrieved a cigar as thick as his finger.

“Ready to begin?” the computer asked.

Locking eyes with Mills, you both stated “Ready” at the same time.

Mills bit down on the butt of his cigar and smirked around it at you. There was rustling in the bushes beside you both. “I’ll play however the pretty girl wants.”

The jungle materialized fully and you were immersed in the world of the simulation, every sight and sound as real as if you were living it. You and Mills stood in an Amazonian jungle, claustrophobic with vegetation. The ground underfoot was mud the consistency of oatmeal. The sky above was bright crystal blue. In the jungle around you, the enemies were unknown and innumerable. In this drill, the enemy would attack until you completed the mission by reaching an escape pod.

An alien creature that looked something like a purple-black velociraptor with four legs and a bifurcated whipping tail leapt at you out of the trees from behind, too sudden and too fast for you to react in time. Mills yanked his blaster up to his shoulder as fast as a striking snake, firing a shot right past your ear into the open mouth of the alien. Its head exploded, splattering you both with black blood.

“Impressed yet, gorgeous?” Mills winked at you as a black droplet of alien blood ran down his cheek. Still holding his blaster by the grip with his thick forefinger resting on the trigger guard, he tipped the barrel back onto his right shoulder. “No? It’s only fair that I spot you one. Now, you better move that perfect ass of yours.”

A few steps into the jungle and there was a rush of bodies through foliage. You were prepared this time as a pair of the same dark alien creatures charged out of the bushes, gnashing their razored jaws and whipping their bifurcated tails. You had your blaster to your shoulder just as fast as Mills this time, and you were a millisecond faster on the trigger because you had less of an arc to swing onto the lunging bodies. Your first shot tore through the open mouth of the lead animal. Without even waiting to see its stride falter, you sighted on the second and sent a blast straight through its red eyeball.

“I like my game better.” You winked back at him, mocking his cocky flirtation. You now had two kills to his one. “Try to keep up, big boy.”

You walked abreast through the dense jungle, each of you alert to the smallest sights and sounds, your every sense on edge. Although competitive, you each trusted the other’s formidable skill in combat situations. You inherently trusted Mills, even if you didn’t show it – it felt oddly comforting to place your life in his massive hands. Mills’ prowess on the battlefield was almost unmatched, but it was his twenty-ten vision, preternatural reflexes, and predatory hand-eye coordination that secured him a seat in the cockpit of the finest spacecraft money could build, pioneering the most adventurous exploration in human history. You had read his military history, studied it like a collegiate textbook. Mills’ dishonorable discharge after the fallout of his infamous crash was a blemish on his impressive record, but it was a singular event and it did little to overshadow his legion of other remarkable accomplishments. Mills was a war machine, highly trained and battle-hardened. It gave you a searing flush of pride that was almost erotic when you realized that he was not watching you closely or double checking your gear or the way you handled your blaster – Mills trusted his life to you too, and that was perhaps the finest compliment he could ever pay you.

The sounds of animal life filled the jungle, behind, in front, beside, all around you. Most of the noises were alien to your ears, impossible to know if they were dangerous or innocuous. You and Mills followed a more open section of the jungle, a kind of path through the denser foliage that filtered you onward through the program toward your goal of locating your escape pod. Close ahead was the sound of rushing water. Mills pushed ahead of you, following his natural instinct to put himself between you and any oncoming danger.

“If something jumps out at us, I don’t want you to botch it,” Mills teased to minimize his natural chivalry.

“Trying to make excuses ahead of time for when you lose?” you challenged to his broad back.

“Nah.” He shook his head pausing in his navigation of the jungle to turn around and beam at you with amusement, his eyes as warm on your face as the morning sun. “I’m just playing the long game.”

“The long game?” you scoffed. “Can you think that far ahead?”

“I figure you’ll be in a better mood if you win.” Mills shifted his cigar, grinning lasciviously. “Maybe you’ll want to celebrate. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

“Your luck is notoriously bad, Commander.” You smiled wickedly. “You really think I’d get involved with a subordinate?”

“Good thing I’m not a subordinate.” He picked up his pace, easily making you jog to keep up with his long strides.

The jungle ended in a small clearing with a rock ledge that overlooked a rushing river fifty feet below. A treacherous looking rope bridge was strung across the river, anchored to the sturdiest trees on both sides. Wooden slats were strewn haphazardly between the rope sides, offering a widely spaced and rickety morse code of steps across the chasm. It looked like something from one of those old campy adventure movies your parents made you watch as a kid, the kind with rugged men who snapped bullwhips and wore torn-open shirts.

“This looks promising,” you deadpanned, skeptically eyeing the bridge.

“Ready to get nice and wet?” Mills quipped, enjoying the sight of you bristle at his double entendre.

“We couldn’t survive a fall into that river?” It was more of a question than a statement, and you looked down over the edge at the rushing, white-crested current.

“Level ten is meant to kill you unless you get lucky, and I never did have the best luck.” Mills joined you at the edge. He pointed to an eddy that was a darker blue than the rest of the river, indicating greater depth. “That’s the spot to aim for if we have to take the plunge. Be sure to hit feet first. Better a broken leg than a broken back.”

“Very helpful,” you said sarcastically. Even though it was a simulation, your pulse thundered and your mouth went dry. Your palm was slick with sweat on the grip of your blaster.

“I try.” Mills grinned around his cigar, shifting it from one side of his mouth to the other. He gestured to the bridge. “Ladies first.”

“How chivalrous of you,” you sniped, narrowing your eyes at him.

“It is, actually.” Mills used the barrel of his blaster to point out at the frayed rope and missing slats in the center of the bridge. “I’m a heavy bastard. The bridge is a lot more likely to fall apart under me. Don’t you want a chance to get across first?”

He was right, but you still rolled your eyes before stepping up the bridge. You hesitated a moment, deciding whether to sling your blaster over one shoulder, which was less secure but would enable you to raise it quickly, or to sling it across your back, which made it impossible to drop but slow to bring into a firing position if needed. Mills guessed your conundrum and assured you, “I’ll cover you, Boss.”

Securing your blaster across your back with the sling crossing over your chest between your breasts, you tentatively stepped onto the first splintered wooden rung. After only a few steps, the rope bridge began to swing and bob precariously under your weight. The remaining boards were spaced far apart, forcing you to stretch out to reach some and hop across a gap to reach others. All that remained of some of the broken slats were splintered ends that would fray any flesh that was unlucky enough to catch on them during a fall. Fifty feet below you, the river churned in deadly rapids.

A shrill screech filled the air above you accompanied by the slicing of wings through air.

“Incoming!” Mills roared as he shouldered his blaster and bowed backward to train his gun high up into the air. Mills fired almost instantly and a flying black creature with a long pointed snout fell out of the sky, its leathery bat wings drawn into its body in death like a diving falcon. The creature’s large body fell so close to you that you felt the air move around you and the bridge swayed dangerously.

You fumbled with pulling your blaster sling back over your head to ready your own weapon as Mills shot again, sending another creature tumbling down. The bridge bucked under your feet from your flailing movement.

“Four,” Mills shouted, counting out his number of kills as the third flying alien fell from his shot. “Keep moving!”

Blaster in hand, you hurried further out onto the bridge. You took aim at the flying alien closest to you and fired, killing it instantly, sending it falling down to splash in the river far below. You mentally counted three and kept moving. The bridge was ricketier with every step. The wooden slats were crumbing away and the ropes were fraying, unraveling right before your eyes.

“Five!” Mills called as another creature fell down toward the river.

You looked up just in time to see the enormous black body falling toward you like a missile. You couldn’t dodge it on the uncertain bridge, but you raised your blaster to block the impact. The creature struck your blaster on its plummet, knocking you down hard against the wooden slats. The slat beneath you broke in half into ragged splinters and your leg shot through the new opening, making you fall down to one knee with the other leg dangling through the hole in the bridge. You tried to pull your leg back out, but your pants caught on the splintered edges and tore. You gasped when the splinters cut into your skin and blood flowed down your leg. You pulled harder, but the splinters only impaled you deeper. You couldn’t pull your leg free without breaking off half the splintered slat inside the meat of your leg. The injury wasn’t real and would be gone when the simulation ended, but the pain was real. Pain was a great training mechanism for humans and animals alike.

“Damnit to hell!” Mills growled at your predicament. He stopped himself before following his instinct to run straight to your rescue. “Wait, I’m ahead. If I just let you fall through and take a little dip, I’ll win our game right now.”

“Yes, and I’ll be in a wonderful mood after that. Think wisely, Mills!” you shouted, struggling to free your leg. “Besides, you’re one of those meat-headed hero types. If you let me fall, guilt will eat you up over not saving the damsel in distress.”

“I can’t argue that I’d rather fight aliens than deal with one of your nasty moods,” Mills grumbled and ran out onto the bridge, unconcerned about the way it lurched dangerously under his heavy weight. He shot another flying alien as he dashed toward you. The bridge swung and bounced under him, making the splinters dig deeper into you.

Mills shouldered his blaster and dropped to his knees beside you. The bridge swayed and the slats that now supported both of you groaned like dying animals. Mills grabbed the broken slat that impaled you and broke it off from the bridge, tossing it away. He quickly plucked out the biggest pieces from your thigh and pulled you to him, lifting you back up fully onto the bridge and incidentally into his arms. His voice was gravelly when he looked at your bloody leg. “Can you walk?”

“Of course,” you huffed and shoved up to your feet. Your leg stung like hell, but you could manage. You looked down at Mills, still on his knees, and forced a smile. “Waiting on you now, Commander.”

“Sure, Boss.” He smiled at you genuinely and pushed up from the bridge floor. Two slats broke beneath him with a crack like a gunshot, and he fell through the new opening. Mills caught a remaining rung, stopping his fall when his chest was level with the bottom of the bridge, his lower body hanging free and long legs kicking wildly in thin air. He grunted with effort as he began to haul himself back onto the bridge. The slat he held creaked portentously.

You rushed to help pull Mills up as he had just done for you, but movement below caught your eye. In the river, sitting in the calm eddy Mills had pointed out to you, was a pair of yellow eyes the size of basketballs, their slitted pupils focused on Mills’ dangling legs. You stopped cold. Before you knew what was happening, the creature shot out of the water, jumping up toward Mills. It was an enormous crocodilian animal with short horns decorating its brows and skull. Water cascaded off its scales as it flew up at Mills like a dolphin jumping up to snatch a fish. Mills jerked his legs up into a cannonball position as the creature bit at him. Its jaws filled with teeth as large as railroad spikes snapped closed inches below Mills’ boots. The leviathan fell back into the river with a torrential splash.

“See what being a hero gets you?” you asked sarcastically as your mind raced.

“Take your sweet time!” Mills growled at you, as he struggled to haul himself back up onto the crumbling bridge.

“Patience is a virtue,” you said with equal mockery. You shouldered your blaster and aimed it down at the creature as it readied itself for another jump at Mills’ legs.

“Not right now it fucking isn’t!” He kicked his legs as he hoisted himself onto the bridge.

Before Mills could draw his own blaster, the creature jumped again. You had it centered in your sights, but you waited a heartbeat longer until those deadly jaws opened wide. You fired straight down into the creature’s open mouth, down into its vulnerable pink throat. You fired again and again on automatic fire as blood erupted in the creature’s mouth and spewed upward in a fountain of gore. The creature growled in pain, gurgling through the blood gushing down its throat, as it collapsed back into the river. The animal thrashed like a dying fish, turning the river water red with blood and white with foam. Mills staggered to his feet beside you and watched the splashing death throes of the animal for a moment before pushing you on ahead of him across the bridge.

Firm ground beneath your feet had never felt so good. Almost as good as the huge hand Mills placed on your back when he stood beside you, just to ensure himself that you were safe and sound. This side of the river was home to a pink flowering tree, its branches hanging down low near Mills’ head. You looked at him, haughtily raising your chin and cocking an eyebrow. Your unspoken sentiment was clear. You saved his ass and made the bigger kill.

“It still just counts as one,” Mills grumbled, fully taking your meaning. “By my count, that puts you at four. I’m at six.” He winked at you again and leaned in close to you. “What do I get when I win, gorgeous?”

You reached to the low-hanging branches of the tree under which you stood and plucked the fullest pink blossom you could find. You brought it to your nose to inhale its scent while looking up coyly through your eyelashes at Mills. When he leaned closer to you still, you pulled back and tucked the flower into his hair above his left ear. His thick forest of hair held it easily. You laughed heartily at his scowl. “Even better than a blue ribbon!”

“Cute.” Mills glared at you playfully, but he indulged you and left the flower in place.

“Shake a leg, gorgeous,” you said flippantly, using his favorite term for you to mock the pink flower in his hair.

The vegetation was sparser on this side of the river, allowing you to walk ahead easily without having to bushwack through jungle. You both held your blasters in casual readiness, the barrels pointed at the ground and angled away from one another, but each with your fingers resting on the trigger guards. From that position, it would take less than a second to raise, aim, and fire. Mills eyed your competent bearing with pride – the way you moved, the way you handled your blaster, the stubborn set of your jaw. He had given you a few lessons and he was pleased to see that you had taken his instruction seriously, even if you would never give him the justification of telling him so.

A clearing opened before you, the grass shorter, only calf high. The clearing was filled with large green pods, covered with a mucus membrane. They were organic and omitted a putrid odor. There was a veritable minefield of them.

“This is new,” Mills commented, his jaw clenched and expression severe.

“Some form of alien life the program has anticipated.” You shrugged and raised your blaster.

“Whoa, let’s not get too trigger happy. We don’t know –” Mills was cut off by the sound of your blaster as you shot the nearest pod. It exploded like a ripe pumpkin, spewing green substance. It struck your cheek and Mills’, hot and the consistency of snot. It burned your skin like acid. You frantically wiped at your cheek while Mills creativity strung expletives together as he rubbed the substance off his own skin.

A figure rose from where it had been crouching in the center of the innumerable alien pods. A young girl, maybe nine years old, stood hugging her arms and shivering in terror. She was adorable, looking at you with huge dark doe eyes. The pods surrounded her, trembling like hatching eggs about to open. She hiccupped a sob and pleaded to you and Mills, “Help me.”

“Cover me,” Mills instructed you, already moving toward the girl, compelled by his heroic instincts.

“Like hell you are!” you hissed and fast as a ninja, you kicked out and hooked Mills’ boot mid-stride, tripping him. Mills hit the ground hard with a grunt. He looked up just in time to see you fire at another pod, the pod closest to the unfortunate urchin. The pod blew apart, coating the girl in acidic green ooze. She screamed, blood curdling and terrible, as her frail body melted and sizzled until she collapsed in a steaming heap on the ground.

“Oh fuck, you killed the kid!” Mills looked at you with an expression of shock. Then he grinned at you. “Bitch.”

“I’m not just a bitch, Commander.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m the bitch, and don’t you forget it.”

“You get a program bonus for saving the kid.” Mills pointed at the smoldering corpse of the melted child with his blaster. “The program inserts kids here and there to manipulate your emotions. Make sure you can fight on when you’re really under duress.” He sucked his teeth with amusement. “But you need to have a heart to have something pull at your heartstrings, huh Boss?”

“I’ve never been burdened with that particular Achilles heel,” you replied easily.

Mills took his attention away from the pods long enough to let his eyes trail over your curves. “I bet if I try hard enough, I can find some spots on you that are nice and soft.”

“Don’t be such a whore with your heroism, Nick,” you told him seriously. “That’s an order. You’re authorized to use it on me, not on every other female of the species you may stumble across.”

“Jealous?” He grinned as he returned his blaster to his shoulder and advanced toward the pods.

“Territorial.” You followed at his side, blaster at the ready.

The other pods opened, blooming like obscene flowers, emitting an almost unbearable stench. The burning on your cheek suddenly faded into the back of your consciousness. A creature leapt out from a pod, something that looked like a huge slimy crustacean. It sailed through the air straight at your face. You and Mills swung your blasters at the unknown creature, shooting simultaneous bursts into it, exploding it mid-flight.

“I shot first,” you said, counting it as your kill.

“I got a feeling there’s plenty more where he came from.” Mills was ready when the next creature launched itself out of a neighboring pod, then another, and another. Mills fired immediately before you, and you both shot in rapid succession at the aliens that leapt from their pods like quail taking flight from underbrush.

In unison your blasters clicked impotently, indicating you were both out of firepower. You looked at your blaster incredulously and punched the breach as if you could clobber more charge into it. “What the hell! These aren’t supposed to run out of charge!”

“Welcome to level ten.” Mills slung his dead blaster over his shoulder as more pods opened. He grabbed you by the back of your shirt, yanking you with him as he ran from the clearing into the thicker brush. He drew a large hunting knife from his belt, holding it in his free hand. You had a knife of your own, supplied by the program.

Mills crashed through trees that caught on his clothing and brush that scratched his face, bowling a path for you as you ran behind in his wake. The alien crustaceans seemed unable to pursue you through the vegetation and you quickly outstripped them. Or perhaps, the program had better foes in store for you.

You were both panting for breath when a rock wall appeared ahead of you, halting your run. Mills turned to look back the way you had come, again automatically putting himself between you and any creatures that may be chasing you, but there were none. Satisfied that you were safe for the moment, Mills leaned back against the rock wall with a groan and let his breath steady. It was impossible not to stare at the rise and fall of his thick chest; not to follow the path of a bead of sweat as it ran down the cord of his neck and down below the collar of his shirt to follow the cleft of his chest.

“You sound practically pornographic,” you teased his heavy breathing. With an effort, you tore your eyes away from his heaving chest and disheveled hair and studied the wall.

“Are you turned on yet?” he asked with equal sarcasm, intentionally deepening his voice. He had already made his own appraisal of the wall, but he would let you come to your own conclusion.

“It turns me on knowing I have more kills than you,” you mused to poke him. You both had lost count after your last encounter.

“I’m not a sore loser.” Mills grinned at you wolfishly. “I’ll help you celebrate your victory.”

You rolled your eyes. “There’s no celebration until we figure out how to climb this.”

The vertical rock wall was about twelve feet tall with scant ridges of rock that could be used for hand and footholds. It wasn’t an impossible grade. A professional climber could free climb it, but you were not a professional climber. You suspected Mills could muscle his way up it. The man was in peak physical condition, agile, and powerfully muscled.

“Hop to it.” Mills waved at the wall, making no effort himself. “I’m just your subordinate, right? I’m waiting for your orders, Boss.”

“I think I can reach the top if you give me a boost,” you said, still looking up at the wall. Mills was well over six-feet tall, he could probably push you up at least seven or eight feet off the ground.

“Here I thought you were a capable, independent woman who could kick ass on level ten without needing any help from a lowly man like me.” Mills looked casually at his fingernails, stifling another grin. He used the blade of his hunting knife to scrape some alien blood out from under a fingernail.

“Are you trying to piss me off?” You pointedly didn’t ask him for help.

“You sure are pretty when you’re mad.” He pointedly didn’t offer any.

You planted your hands on your hips and sighed angrily. Mills ignored you. There was no other feasible option for you to scale the wall. “Fine, you arrogant bastard. Come help me.”

“Pretty please?” Mills suggested with raised eyebrows.

“Now.” You narrowed your eyes at him, and Mills figured he would have more opportunities to risk his life without angering you further just now.

Grinning at his small victory, Mills pushed away from where he leaned against the rock and walked to stand beside you. He propped his boot up on a rock so his thigh was a level ninety degrees. He looked at you and patted his thick thigh. You stepped onto his thigh and it felt just as solid as the rocky ground. He patted his opposite shoulder, helping guide your boot up and secure your foothold. Mills didn’t falter or shake as you used his body as a ladder. When you had both feet planted on both of his shoulders with your hands braced on the wall right in front of your nose, Mills put his hands under the balls of your feet and pushed you up as high as he could. He finally grunted with effort when he had you hoisted up at the full reach of his arms.

The top of the rock wall wasn’t far above you now. You scrambled for only a moment before finding a purchase to haul yourself up the rest of the way. Taking a seat on the ledge, you looked down at Mills. Neither of you had any rope or other means of climbing. He studied the rock briefly, choosing his climbing route. He stepped up onto a thin ridge of rock and hefted himself up high enough to reach a handhold. Grunting with effort, Mills lifted himself higher and higher as he climbed. Every muscle in his massive body stood rigid, keeping him in perfect balance, and his strong hands held his weight easily. He made scaling the twelve-foot rock wall look effortless, and you suspected he could keep up the same climb for long enough to scale a true rockface as well as the best climbers in the world.

Mills pushed to his feet and pulled you up to stand beside him. “Ready to admit level ten’s a little, ah, over your head?”

“Did you have to practice waving your dick around at all times or does it come naturally?” you huffed, shaking your head.

“Careful, your envy is showing.” Mills stepped close to you until your chests were nearly touching.

“Envy?” you scoffed. “Never in a million years –”

Mills ducked in to you, crashing his lips to yours and silencing your arguments. You moaned in protest for only a moment before your lips were moving in tandem with his. When your lips parted with a pleasured sigh, he deepened his kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. The feel of his lips on yours and the heady taste of him weakened your knees more than any exertion in the combat simulation. You swayed against him, feeling the hard length of his powerful body pressed against you. Mills wrapped his arms around you, drowning in the feeling of your body, lost in your kiss.

“Ready to call it a day?” Mills asked against your lips. “End the program and skip right to the celebration?”

“Never.” You smiled and pulled away from him.

Mills groaned as if in physical pain from the parting of your lips from his, hamming it up for your amusement, and set off into the jungle. The terrain was now a thicket of scraggy bushes and overhanging trees. Brush scraped your clothing and twigs crunched underfoot. You were about to suggest how Mills might celebrate your victory with you when an animal snorted in the bush ahead of you. Mills froze as did you beside him.

Gripping the handle of his large hunting knife, Mills looked into the impenetrable brush. The attack didn’t come from ahead, from the direction of the sound, but from the side. Noiselessly, a golden speckled animal lunged at you. It was an enormous feline with long saber fangs, razor claws, and glistening golden eyes. You too, held your knife, prepared to attack. Mills reared back his right arm and threw his knife at the charging animal, sending his blade flying end over end. His aim was perfect, striking the giant cat right in the center of its golden eye. The creature dropped in its tracks, instantly dead and twitching.

The second feline charged from ahead of you. It was the much larger male, the mate to the female Mills had just killed– a Nemean lion with its dark red mane whipping around its enraged face like wildfire. Mills was unlucky in that he stood between the animal and you, the first in its path. He had no weapon. Mills raised his left arm as the leonine creature jumped at him, shoving his forearm between its jaws as the lion tackled Mills to the ground. Mills roared in pain at the feeling of the creature tearing his skin and crushing the bones in his arm. The wound wasn’t real, but the pain was. Using his mangled forearm, Mills was able to hold the creature away from his face but barely so. The lion snarled and bit harder into the flesh of Mills’ forearm, ripping its head from side to side to get at Mills’ face.

The hunting knife in your hand felt small and feeble, but it was all you had. You rushed to where Mills wrestled with the lion, your blade held overhead like a slasher aiming for a cheerleader. You plunged your knife down into the back of the lion’s neck, at the junction of its spine and skull, feeling it cut through flesh and bone beneath like butter. The animal collapsed dead on top of Mills, entirely covering the man’s massive body. Mills groaned beneath the enormous carcass, struggling to push it off him. You threw your weight against the animal’s body, helping Mills to shove it off of him and onto its side to discover that Mills was laughing. Lying on his back, clutching his profusely bleeding left arm to his chest, the jackass was laughing, low and rich.

“Not bad, gorgeous.” He smiled up at you through the dirt and blood that streaked his face. “While I’m down here, you want to tend to my wounds?”

“I’m half tempted to give you more,” you replied, unable to keep from smiling. You went to the lion to retrieve your knife. The knife was stuck in the creature’s body as though it were in cement. You yanked on the knife with both hands, pulling so hard you moved the animal, but the blade held firm. “What is this? Is the program taking our knives now too?”

“Bingo.” Mills laughed again.

“So, what do we do?” you asked, frustrated. “You have the highest scores in level ten. How do we win?”

“Level ten doesn’t teach you how to win. It’s programmed to be unwinnable.” Mills sobered and looked up at you from his back. “It teaches you how to deal with fear in the face of certain death and to master that fear. Level ten teaches you how to die. To accept death as a possibility and to die well. To make your death count.”

“Who programmed that kind of bullshit?” you huffed, planting your hands on your hips. “I’m going to kick his ass when we’re done here today.”

“Now that, I’d pay to see.” Mills sat up painfully and tested his injured arm, flexing his hand into a fist. It was painful and bleeding, but functional. “I’ll give you three guesses, but you’ll only need one.”

Pursing your lips angrily, you extended a hand to Mills. His enormous hand was slick with blood when he took yours, letting you help pull him up to his feet. He grunted and winced in pain, but otherwise masked his discomfort to conceal it from you. He draped a heavy arm across your shoulders as you both walked on through the thicket. You knew he didn’t need any support walking, but you didn’t mind either.

After only a few painful steps, a thunderous roar tore through the jungle, louder and more ominous than anything you had heard before. The sound of something gigantic running toward you, crashing through brush, immediately followed and the ground shook with tremendous force. Mills took your hand and ran.

The jungle thinned into an open grassy meadow. The escape pod sat in the center of the meadow, gleaming like a silver bullet. Sprinting hard, you and Mills ran for the escape pod. Seconds behind you, the animal that pursued you burst from the trees – a huge brindle-colored creature that looked like a Tyrannosaurus Rex with fully developed forearms. Using its forearms, it galloped after you with remarkable speed. You had no chance, it would overtake you in seconds. Mills hazarded a glance back over his shoulder, just in time to see the creature make its final lunge, its jaws ready to close over you both. Mills tackled you to the ground hard, pinning you beneath his heavy body. He couldn’t save you, not this time, but he could die a hero and buy you a few more seconds of life with his own body. Mills looked down into your eyes, engraving the sight of you beneath him onto his memory, taking a breath to steady himself for the inevitable. He never liked the dying part of level ten. Despite having endured it for countless rounds, it was always disconcerting.

Suddenly, you shifted your body beneath him and raised your arm to point at the charging animal like a superhero ready to fire a bolt from your fingertips. With your other hand, you entered a command on your watch.

“Program override accepted,” the pleasant female voice of the onboard computer intoned.

The creature vanished as did all the menacing noises from the world of the simulation. You and Mills were left alone in the grassy meadow, you lying on your back with Mills’ massive body covering you. The light changed too, glowing rosy pink like the light of a soft dawn, giving everything it touched an ethereal glow. Mills propped himself up on his forearms, caging you inside them as he looked down at you incredulously.

“Personally, I’d rather learn how to cheat death than how to die well.” You smiled up at him mischievously. “My ship, my rules.”

“Clever girl,” Mills told you proudly. He noted the wounds on his arm and your leg had vanished along with the enemy creatures. “Does this mean we won?”

“No, just that we transferred to one of my own personal programs.” You sighed and let your legs relax and fall open to better accommodate Mills’ large body. “Do you like it?”

“I like what’s in it.” He hungrily eyed your body spread out invitingly beneath him.

Around you, the meadow had become more of a grassy cove in a secluded garden. Rose bushes encircled you, blooming in pinks and reds. More of the luscious trees with hanging branches and vibrant pink blossoms draped around you, making it romantic and intimate. Lush green grass spread out beneath you, littered with fallen flowers. The sky above was streaked with pinks and blues, looking like swirled ice cream.

Chirping birds could be heard from somewhere in the meadow and from further away the sound of a bubbling brook met your ears. The fresh aroma of roses and grass after a rain filled your nose when you inhaled. Even the light itself was soft and hazy in the verdant landscape, like that in a dream, and the twinkling yellow of luminescent fireflies danced through the air and between the rose bushes.

“Do you admit defeat, Commander?” you teased, arching your body sensually so your breasts pressed against his chest. “Do you concede I beat you?”

“If I do, are we going to celebrate properly?” Mills captured your lips, groaning in anticipation. He kissed you slowly, languorously, grinding his hips against you, pressing you down into the grass and letting you feel the heavy weight of his body. When he broke your kiss, he took your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled back from you. “You want to do this here? Now? Where anyone could walk in and see you fucking your subordinate?” He all but ripped open your top, hastily freeing your skin to his touch and rubbed his calloused palm over the sensitive skin of your breast. “You don’t want to keep this – us – confined to your cabin as usual, like the dark secret we are?”

“Does it look like I care who sees?” you moaned impatiently as you struggled the rest of the way out of your top. You clawed at Mills’ clothing, yanking his khaki henley off over his head and throwing it away. His hair was even more handsomely disheveled, hanging down around his face and eyes. “I don’t care who knows about us, Nick. You should know that by now.”

Looking down at you with a grin, Mills admired your perfect tits, wolfishly trailing his tongue over his teeth. He pushed up to his knees long enough to yank your pants down and off along with your boots. “We’re both going to win now, my darling.”

“Darling?” You smiled and ran your hands over the bare expanse of his enormous chest. “What happened to Boss?”

“I’m the boss now.” Leaning over you, he rested his weight on his palms on either side of your body as he bent to kiss your navel. “And you’re going to be a good girl and cum when I tell you to.”

His lips trailed lower until they kissed at the waistband of your panties. He teased your skin with the scratch of his goatee before taking the thin material between his teeth and pulling your panties down your legs with his mouth. A rich, pleasured growl purred from his lips. With your panties still held in his bite, he met your eyes like a wild beast. He pushed your thighs wide enough to settle between them, relishing the sight of you glistening with arousal for him.

“You must like it rough,” Mills said huskily, lifting your legs to rest over his broad shoulders. “To be this excited when I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“You know how I like watching you sweat and grunt,” you sighed at the feel of him. “In all ways.” From his fingers to his tongue to his cock, Mills could make you shudder with every part of his body almost effortlessly. You twisted your hands into his thick hair and bucked your hips against his face. “Of course, being a badass while sweating and grunting doesn’t hurt things.”

“For you, darling, I’ll be the baddest man alive.” He groaned deep and hungrily into you, savoring you, his voice thrumming through your flesh. Licking, kissing, caressing you with ardor, he quickly rendered you too incoherent with pleasure to continue teasing him. Your thighs trembled on either side of his head with each sensation, your whole body asking him for more. He pulled away just enough to put two of his thick fingers to work, sliding and curling into you, feeling you tighten and quiver. “I think I found a trump card when I need to win our next argument.”

You thought of contestations, but they died on your tongue and escaped your lips only as lewd moans. A rush of heat ran rampant through you as your first wave of pleasure hit, flooding you with electric heat. The cool grass was a reprieve under your searing skin when you collapsed back, sated and recovering. Mills shoved his pants down his thick thighs, freeing his huge heavy cock that matched the rest of his massive and impressive body.

As Mills crawled over you, you gazed up at him in a portrait of sheer bliss. Looking down at you in return, his expression was just as full of adoration as yours and darkened with lust. Covering you completely until he was the ceiling of your world, he settled his huge body between your enthusiastically open thighs. Reaching your hands up to tangle into the dense waves of his hair, you pulled him down to meet your lips again.

Mills kissed you slow and deep as your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. One of his hands rested by your head, his fingers softly caressing your cheek and hair – a sharp contrast to his rough, almost harsh thrust into you. You loved it. In the beginning, his incredible size had been an adjustment. Now, the feeling of being so full, so possessed, was nearly enough alone to send you into a frenzy. Mills rumbled praises and adulations against your lips, rocking your body with his motions.

Feeling his heavy body over you and his powerful muscles tensing beneath your hands, you could feel the way he used all of his great strength for your pleasure. Mills could be measured and sensual or frantic and rough, but he was always masterful at prolonging your pleasure indulgently. Your nails dug into the dense muscle of his shoulders, trailing faint pink lines across his skin as your pleasure built again, swirling in your core. Your hips moved in time with Mills’ rhythm, meeting his deliberate thrusts.

Your orgasm crashed over you in a wave of euphoria, your body seizing and clenching. Mills gritted his teeth in pleasure at the sensation of you growing impossibly tighter and hotter. With a primal groan, he buried his face in the crook of your neck and came in time with you, cresting with you and riding the high of waves and pulses together.

You dragged your nails across his wide back, soothingly now, and pulled him down closer against you as you felt his muscles begin to relax. Mills kissed up your neck, trailing his lips across your jaw and over your cheek. He rubbed his large nose against yours affectionately before kissing you for another long moment and then raising his shaggy head to gaze down at you.

With another heady groan, Mills rolled off you and onto his back, pulling you with him to rest on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close in his embrace, while his lips ghosted at your hairline. When he spoke, his hot breath brushed your skin. “I’d say we both won at level ten, Boss.”

You propped yourself up on his chest and looked down at him with a sultry smirk. You plucked a nearby pink blossom from where it lay fallen on the ground near you. It was even more resplendent than the last one. You tucked it into Mills’ hair, ignoring the scowl he gave you. “I’d say you deserve another blue ribbon for that performance, Commander.”

*******************************************************************************************

Tagging some buddies!

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