purplecreationwasteland

[atmospheral]

sleepy zolu

[assortedvillainvault]

Captain Hook,Davie Jones and captain Barbarosa are competing each other who is better captain,has better ship and can loot more treasure.

It’s a tense air that carpets the dark, back corner table the three of them are sat at, bottles in hand.

“Well, obviously, it’s yours truly.” Hook artfully sips from the bottle cradled in his namesake. “Formerly first mate to Blackbeard, immortal scourge of Neverland, a name known worldwide and, clearly-” he sneers a bit, “The one with the most class present. Of course its me.”

Barbossa rolls his eyes as he takes a rough swing of his own bottle, apple in hand. “Hardly.” he drawls. “Yer a coward who couldn’ kill a little ginger whelp and got yerself eaten for the trouble.”

“How dare-!”

“Besides-” Barbossa continues as though Hook weren’t even speaking, enjoying the way the red coated captain’s face was turning purple. “In case yer memory be failin’ ye, I ended my tenure at sea as Cap’n of a pirate armada, more swag in me hold than can be found in most palaces, and only the wrath of Poseidon ‘imself kept me from returning to stalk the waves again. Clearly.” He clacks the bottle against the table in finality. “It be me.”

The third occupant of the table leisurely lights his pipe even as Hook’s temper breaks and lunges across the table, the razor sharp hook just barely missing Barbossa’s throat as the older pirate swears and topples arse over ankles back from his seat. Bottles are thrown, swords are drawn, and Barbossas laugh is cut short as Hook slashes his feathered hat in half – fighting back properly with a snarl.

Jones idly puffs smoke and settles in as the bartenders weigh in against the squabbling captains, blue eyes glinting in the dark. His first mate, Maccus, leans over from another table.

“Uh-” the shark begins. “What’s the question again?”

Jones boredly taps out the ashes and lights another smoke. “Who be the best pirate.”

Maccus blinks. “But we ain’t even pirates. Most a th’ crew were honest sailors.”

“Aye.” Jones shrugs. “Ah dinnae know what they think we could do with looted holds - bar souls - anyway. The Dutchman regrows any damage.”

“And normal folk run screamin’ at port or sea.” Maccus nodded, teeth clicking idly. “...bets on these two?”

Jones surveys the broken furniture and theatrical shenanigans across the room, where Hook and Barbossa posture and swing, evenly matched as the barstaff duck for cover under tables and fallen wall hangings.

“...ten years say’s Barbossa, but only if it dinnae come to pistols. Hook’s a mean shot.”

Maccus grins full of sharp teeth. “Twenty years. Hook’s bloody quick, even if Barbossa’s all bones.”

Thanks for the ask!!

[raayllum]

In the two years since gaining his arcanum, Callum likes to think he’s gotten the hang of it.

He has his spell-book with plenty of runes and incantations, carefully jotted down by hand next to pictures of the runes; he knows how to elongate his breath and stamina; he’s better at hedging his weight and sticking a landing, winged or not. He knows the way rainy days made his mood pick up, blood thrumming in his veins, the way his body takes deeper breaths when it’s windy, the fact he can never sleep (or really need to) when it storms at night time. 

He’s not nervous when the storm broils over the pirate’s boat. If anything, this’ll help them escape unscathed their belongings intact. He’ll be at the peak of his power in the centre of a storm. What could go wrong?

Callum knows the answer as soon as the rain hits his face, feet skidding over the slippery deck, and a fork of lightning strikes the a wave so close to him some of the resulting spray sloshes over the ship hull. It’s too much, out here, the rain pounding in his temple like the worst headache he’s ever had, the lightning shuddering in his vision, taking too long to fade for him to see properly. 

It’s nothing for a dragon or an archdragon, but for a human - or an elf, unused to the sensation - he feels like he’s going to keel over and retch, too much air in his lungs to be healthy. 

But there are at least twenty pirates, and Soren is off defending Ezran in the corner, Rayla slashing somewhere in the middle, and Nyx is picking off the crew with throwing knives up in the ropes, and well...

Callum hurtles out there, staff in hand, and does his best to block out the noise. 

He clears a path to Ezran first, fulminis sizzling through his veins, and it takes little to no energy to channel the storm to his will. The rain bends. The lightning goes where he wants it to. He doesn’t even need his staff, even as it pulses with heat in his hand. The pirates are swept away into the seas, or too charred with his lightning to get up. The lightning flashes bright in his eyes, too reminiscent of Aaravos’ control to be comfortable, too encompassing for him to see clearly, and—

Something hits him hard in the back and he crashes, spluttering, hands splayed on the desk. He twists over onto his back, rain pouring down, and the captain leers over him, grinning while water runs down from the curve of her hat, her sword levied at his throat. Another wave rises up. The thunder echoes in his ears. It’s too much.

His control falters. His world narrows, and Callum knows this is it. The rain is so cold, leaving him numb like he’s already dead. He wonders if he’ll even have the option to make a sound, as the Tidebound elf draws back her razor sharp sword and—

Then she drops her sword, a dark stain forming over the centre of her pale blue blouse, and the elf keels over sideways, hands scrabbling at her chest. A foot pushes her out of the way so she topples next to him instead of on him, and then Rayla—hair soaked, ragged, beautiful—lowers her own bloody blade and holds out her hand.

Callum manages to find the mind to grasp it. She hoists him to his feet, supporting his weight when he leans on her more than he meant to. He thinks she’s shaking too.

“Are you okay?” she says hoarsely, eyes scanning his face. The storm quiets, his breath anchored to hers. She’s warm, their sides pressed up against each other.

His gaze tears away from her face to the dead pirate captain at their feet, a pool of blood growing as her crew cries out angrily around them as Nyx and Soren step up and into the fray, Rayla’s sword arm braced along his back.

She’d killed for him.

He wants to ask if she’s okay, but knows this isn’t the time—that this might not have even been her first, given her time away, but there’s a glassy look in her eye that tells him it is—even if his heart pounds in his chest. Her bottom lip never trembles even if her hand shakes from where it’s keeping his arm slung over her shoulders.

“Fine,” he says, his head clearing. He pushes himself up a bit more. Some of the pirates are starting to surrender. It’ll be over soon. He takes her sword hand as he straightens up, splattered with a bit of blood, and kisses her knuckles. “Let’s just get out of here.”

[yzeltia]

Closer to You

Chapter 6 Characters: Natsu Obinata, L'lolamo Lolomori(Hydaelyn), Fuyu'li cen Zwhan, Keith Summers, Carter Summers, @driftward 's Nyx Blackmoon, @mintibunny 's Minti Chocolate, X'ruhn Tia Rating: T for combaT Notes: Thank you @driftward for the mechanics past as always and @mintibunny for writing lines and actions for Miss Chocolate! Battle Theme: Noruniru by Yakushimaru Etsuko

Natsu pushed through the caboose door with L’lolamo onto the large platform that separated them from the cart where Fuyu’li had gone into. As they exited, Nyx hopped down beside them followed by Jannie, Minti Chocolate, Keith Summers, a gruff looking Hyur man carrying a black claymore, and a blond scruffy Miqo’te in a red hat.

“Teacher!” Natsu exclaimed before stepping forward to be embraced by X’ruhn Tia.

“I heard your call and enlisted my support. How can I help?” The Auri girl nodded gratefully to her teacher while L’lolamo quickly greeted them each by name, earning confused looks from the latter half of the group. L’lolamo stopping in front of Nyx, let her eyes widen then she threw her arms around her. “And of course you must be Nyx! Rrrahn has told me so much about you I feel like I know you alrrready. I mean, in a way I have always known you, a piece of you…you know, I’m not sure, but I know your soul and I am happy to have you as my future …daughter? Child-in-law does not sound quite right.” Nyx stood motionless, gaze ahead across to the other cart while the gruff Hyur crossed his arms and blew his bangs from his face. “So then. Nyx said you found a lead on Hazel,” he asked Natsu 

“A strong connection. My friend Fuyu’li, he took Violet! He's being controlled by the imposter,” Natsu explained.

“Right then,” the man said before marching forward, pulling his dark Claymore off his back. 

“Wait! I don't want to hurt him. He's being tricked,” Natsu protested, following after him while Minti and Keith followed behind.

“You getting any bad vibes,” X’ruhn asked Nyx, as she stared ahead with L’lolamo hanging on her.

“Many, X-Ruhn. Carter Summers is walking himself into a trap.”

“And you aren't going to stop him?” the Tia asked.

Nyx didn't answer, instead letting Jannie hurry ahead to call out to them, “Not another step forward.”

While the others listened, Carter ignored the warning before flitting his attention to the back top corners of the cart, flinging up his large sword to deflect two repelling blasts from fixed turrets. Stepping forward, Nyx raised her hand and sent her nouliths out to neutralize the defense while the rest prepped their weaponry as the top of the cart opened and Fuyu'li rose up from it atop his magitech vehicle.

Natsu pushed past the others, coming forward to look up her friend. “Fuyu'li! Please! You're being tricked! Give us back Violet and talk to me!”

Fuyu'li shook his head, ears folding back, “Just leave us Natsu! Nothing will stop me from seeing my master's dream come true!”

Natsu shook her head, “That's not your Master! Do you really think he'd want you kidnapping people for him!? Even if he did, why would you? Come down here now!”

“He asked me for this! He asked me for the sake of his sister! If that means I must take people unwilling to help then I will because I have the power to do so! I have the power to make his dream come true! You just don't understand because there's no one in this world that is precious to you except a father that you've never known and never will!”

Natsu tensed up, recoiling a bit at the other's words as he started to hit buttons on his console. The girl balled her fist around her rapier, looking down at her feet for a moment before sharply returning her attention to the Garlean, hand rising to let her focus flourish in the air.  “If you won't listen to me, then I'm just going to have to drag you out of that stupid machine by the ear and make you!”

With that she flung her focus higher, X'ruhn 's spinning above to join hers before they sent out a jolt of red aether at Fuyu'li. The magitech brought its arms up to shield itself from the blast before flying forward to charge the two mages, only to be rebuffed as Carter and Jannie plunged forward to block the path. From the open cart, small drones poured out and perched themselves on the sides of the platform rails and began to whirr as they charged up.

“Uh. Those little guys are gonna be a problem here in a second,” Keith yelled out, rushing in to pounce on the front of the mech and try to get a punch on the Miqo'te pilot.

“Power is limited so they will charge and fire separately. Analyze their behavior yourself to avoid unnecessary damage. Chocolate, please be on standby in case the brothers lack pattern recognition,” Nyx stated.

“HEY,” Carter and Keith shouted back before the latter was repelled by Fuyu'li with a blast, sending him scooting across the platform toward the caboose to Minti and Nyx’s feet.

Minti sighed then frowned in thought, raising her cane to soothe his injuries before stepping over him. With her cane held high, she tapped the ground with the butt of it.Every stray spore caught on the platform suddenly started to sprout out from her before, mushrooms blooming about as they pulled whatever life was left from the wooden boards under them.Soon a large purple aetheric bell moral formed and started to sway, singing a somber deep tone that resonated aether around her allies in little pulses of white light. “Have care, Summers. Watch your footing,” Minti cautioned, “Fall off the side of the train, and I get to tell Raha how you’re not coming back to him.”

Keith offered a little thumbs up from the ground, still a bit winded from the blast despite the ambient healing aether sounding out about him before being flung to the right as the group avoided the first round of blasts from the charged turrets. Ahead, the mech pushed back Jannie and Carter then swung two large laser swords down upon them while Natsu and X’ruhn pelted the mech from behind. Front open, L’lolamo flew forward and started to slice away at the front console with two swords quickly increasing in her speed as the metal streaked bright orange from the sheer heat and speed off the cuts. Frustrated, Fuyu’li smacked a button, opening the chest piece to let it give off a loud whine as it charged up it’s beam. Poised to fire, L’lolamo shielded her self with her arms and waited. As she flinched, she found herself in an aetheric box, sustained by Nyx’s nouliths before being pulled back to safety in it.

“I was about to finish him off,” L’lolamo protested toward Nyx as the blast reflected off her safety prism.

“Incorrect,” Nyx responded before releasing the woman as soon as the threat stopped, quickly moving to the left with the group as a second salvo of the turrets went off. 

The platform soon let out a strained groan before the sound of metal popping echoed around them. The barrier on the right soon fell off, being quickly left behind by the chugging train. Soon after Fuyu'li rose into the air and away from the platform.

“Tunnel,” Keith called out before the party found themselves in a lantern lit cave.

“Let's see if we can get into the cart,” Carter huffed before stumbling back as two large spriggan on large glowing crystals dropped down blocking his path.

“For swives sake,” the Hyur cursed before drawing his sword up to block one of the creature's attacks.

“Stop complaining and separate them. Everyone split up,” Jannie ordered before firing off a cold beam of dark blue aether to grab the unfended one’s attention.

Minti and Keith hurried to Carter's side as the order was given, Natsu following close behind while the rest went with Jannie. Soon the large crystals under the Spriggan started crackling with electric aether before attempting to blast both parties. Natsu flinched as she braced for the attack only to feel the thunder boom through her horns without harming her. Looking up, she found a dark aura radiating about Carter and extending over herself, Minti, and Keith. Across from them the other's seemed to be shielded by Jannie’s own deep blue one. The Spriggan’s stones going dark, the two knights repelled the creatures and began to hack at them to keep them at bay so the others could move.

“An ambush is likely. We must disengage the spriggan before the end of the tunnel or we will likely perish,” Nyx said to the group.

Natsu and X’ruhn nodded then looked to one another before channeling their aether again. An explosion of wind and lightning soon billowed forth from them into a maelstrom, shocking and slinging wind blown rocks at the two creatures before exploding into a bunch of red sprite lighting. The platform shook as the two spent crystals fell onto the platform, the spriggan falling off them to roll off the edges.  Light soon flooded over the group as the train ran out of the tunnel and onto a bridge that overlooked a ravine. 

Fuyu'li was almost immediately upon them at their side  “Your pursuit ends here,” he called out before slamming his fist on the console.

“Get to cover,” Minti called out, throwing her cane across her back before pulling Natsu and Keith behind a crystal as a barrage of missiles blasted into the train. 

Once the smoke cleared, Natsu looked up, finding their barrier cracking. Panicked, she pushed Minti forward to safety with the others, letting Keith get dragged with her before she tried scrambling to get out of the way as another set of missiles flew toward them. Natsu's eyes widened as she looked out toward the barrage heading her way only to feel herself aetherically pulled into Minti’s arms.

“Gotcha,” Minti sang as the farther crystal exploded and was swept off the platform while the one beside them simply crumbled.

“Thank you,” Natsu said, getting to her feet.

“The ammunition for that model has been depleted. His swords and charged beams remain a threat,” Nyx informed the group, “Falling off the platform remains a risk.. Limited movement is suggested.”

A groan sounded out as the group waited for Fuyu'li’a attack. Ahead of them, Carter laid prone holding his shoulder. With a flick of their wrists, Nyx sent their nouliths to administer aid while maintaining a barrier about him.

“Just take him out already,” Carter yelled out to the others before being blocked off as Fuyu'li landed between them, extending his swords from the mech.

“Right! Let's give him everything we got,” X’ruhn said, “Jannie! Natsu! With me!”

Together, the three sped forward, Jannie taking the center to block the magitek’s swinging blades as the two red mages made their careful swipes in unison before pulling back to raise their focus’s high, Natsu channeling an unrelenting pillar of dark magic while X’ruhn did the same with light. Together, they whipped their swords to cross one another, letting them grow red before pooling their aether to send out a blinding beam of aetheric roses into Fuyu'li, knocking him back into cart ahead. 

“This isn't over,” Fuyu’li cried out, letting the front carapace fly open to charge up another beam.

“Our turn, Minti! Send it high,” Keith laughed before taking a few steps then jumping into the air.

“With pleasure,” Minti called out, sending a large rock from her staff into the air after him.

Grinning, Keith caught the rock then spun in the air before raising it high and twisting himself to kick it into Fuyu'li’s canon, knocking it out before landing down beside Minti. He popped to his feet soon after,  giving his friend a little high-five before turning to Nyx with his hand raised only to have their hand quickly slap her palm over his, not averting their attention from Carter’s shield. In a flash, L’lolamo was upon Fuyu’li, striking at the the protective armor in a near blur of speed before slicing open what held him to let him stumble out. Huffing, the Keeper stood up, wiping a bit of blood off the corner of his mouth before pulling out his gunblade to fire off into the cart ahead of them a few times, trying to break the coupler. “Oh no you don’t,” Natsu called out, closing in on Fuyu’li to swipe at him. Their blades soon clashed, the two friends pushing into one another back and forth, “Enough is enough! I won’t let you take any more people! You need to listen to me,” Natsu shouted. “I can’t! My master means everything to me! I will lay my life down for him! I will do his bidding until- OW! Ow ow ow! Natsu, let go,” Fuyu’li whined out as the girl quickly reached in to tug at his ears, letting his gunblade drop to the ground. “What the hells is wrong with you!? Why would your master have come out here after sending you in the first place! And kidnapping people!? Did you think for a moment that his requests were unreasonable for a young boy,” Natsu yelled, scolding Fuyu’li loudly in a huff.

“Uh…is that really Natsu,” Keith whispered to Minti, getting a confused shrug.

“I-I thought it strange! N-Natsu let go!”

“NO! Not until you come to your senses! You’ve been made a fool and have upset a lot of people because of it,” Natsu continued before stumbling forward into her friend as the platform suddenly started to grind on the rails. Ahead, the cart had loosened from the coupler and was had started to speed off ahead of them while they slowed and started to wobble. Soon, screams sounded out through Central Thanalan, before nine splashes followed by a loud crash a bit farther down the tracks.

[shanks42]

Shanks: The ancient prophecy of the missing millennia

I am so sorry for the late post. Been having an interesting week haha. Any ways here is part 14 of the story. Nami and Shanks pair up.

Chapter 14: Nami recall meeting Shanks 

Nami sat in the chair going through a book when her mind wandered to the day she met Shanks and how the relationship started. She had been sent off by Kuma and landed on a pirate ship, none other than the infamous Kaido. They had been in a battle with the red haired pirates when she stood up. The first thing she saw was a red meteor flying towards Kaido and the beast man flying back towards her unconscious. She had barely managed to dodge the giant before Shanks had landed next to her with his sword at Kaido’s throat. 

He looked over at nami through the corner of his eyes as he sheathed his sword and turned to face her. “You weren’t here when the fight started, where did you come from? And aren’t you cat burglar Nami from the Straw Hats?” asked Shanks slightly confused but maintaining a soft smile while looking down at her. “You’re Red Haired Shanks?!?!?! Kuma sent all of my crew flying in different directions with his paw paw fruit. I just happened to land here, but I have no idea where I am.” replied Nami looking around. Shanks then took her to his ship and talked late into the night about what happened to her. 

Over the next three weeks, Nami found herself hanging around Shanks more and got on a name basis with everyone. She didn’t mind helping around with the chores even though Shanks and Ben had insisted she didn’t have to. She went around the ship and started learning the roles of each person and would help with weather when she could. However one day Shank’s didn’t show himself on the deck all day (which was unnormal) and Ben was yelling orders given to him by the red haired pirate king.

The day went by slowly as they sailed to their next location and not a peep or peek from the red head. Nami was sitting eating dinner when she realized Shanks was still missing. She felt a tinge of disappointment and sadness clinging to her chest, missing him and his laugh. I hope he is ok. I wonder what has him gone all day thought Nami as she finished her food and walked out onto the deck. After she enjoyed the sunset she looked around and found Ben and Yassop leaning against the railing sharing some sake together. “Hey have you guys seen Shank’s?? He’s been missing all day. Asked Nami as she walked up causing the two men to turn their heads and smile at her.

“He’s in his cabin probably going through paperwork” Yassop happily replied. “If you’re going to see him, there is a bottle of Sake and a plate of food for him in the kitchen if you want to take it to him. I was just going to do it myself. But here, you take it to him. I’m very sure he would enjoy the company and someone to talk to. He’s been pretty stressed lately.” laughed Gap from behind making her turn around startled. She took the bottle and the plate of food and headed to the cabin, when she got there she gently tapped on the door and was surprised to hear a stressed and annoyed “come in” sound from the other side of the door. “Ben, if you have come to bother me, leave me be. I am in  no mood right now.” Shanks said as she opened the door.

[zoroswifesposts]

On all the ashes in my wake

Chapter One - Habitual Gestures

______________________________________________________________

You first meet the straw hat pirates when you stow away on their ship. 

Granted, it’s not the best of scenarios, having just managed to escape your (Captors) adoptive father’s hands and being sold off as a wife to the highest bidder and being used as a pawn, but it’s your best chance of survival. So you had jumped onto the closest ship possible, hiding in the cargo to get as far away from the royal city as possible. 

You had spent the first few days scared for your life, keeping as quiet as possible as the ship travelled away from port. The voices of the crew were loud, loud enough to carry through the cargo hold and let you know how many people were on the ship. So far you had counted five, but it may have been more or less. All you knew was that you didn’t want to get caught, or worse, end up murdered.

But- you had noticed that something was wrong with you. It had started out with a weakness in your muscles, an exhaustion in your bones that any amount of sleep couldn't touch. It left you worried, scared that you were getting sick, or worse. 

The sickness only got worse over the course of the next few days, taking with it your remaining strength and leaving you lying against the bottom of the ship, unable to move. Consciousness comes in waves, each one worse then the last. As you fade into what you can only assume to be your death, your last remaining thought is I didn't wanna die like this. 

<●>

The first thing you realise as you come too is that you aren't dead. It isn't much better then that, though. Your body is weak, leaving you unable to move as your eyes blink open to blinding sunlight. You wince, slowly and carefully sitting up, muscles screaming as you move to look around. You weren't in the cargo hold. 

Your eyes widen, panic filling you as you glance around the room you had been placed in. It seemed to be a bedroom of sorts, containing a dresser and the bed that you lay in. You bring your legs over to the edge of the bed, attempting to stand up- only to promptly fall on your ass. 

The following thump sounds loud in the silence, similar panic filling you as you scramble up, forcing your legs to start moving. Your hand closes around the doorknob, twisting it open as you step out- only to run directly into someone. 

You stumble back, head jerking up to see a man staring dumbfounded down at you, eyes wide. Your shock turns into anger, and you use the shock to shove past him,  running down the hallway. 

Blinding sunlight forces you to squint, and you find yourself out on the deck of the ship. From behind you the sound of voices grow louder, and you turn around to see the faces of three men staring you down. 

The shortest is still taller then you, with blond hair and a half-lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth, pervy eyes racking over your figure. The second figure is a strange boy, all long limbs and a beaming smile on his face, despite the circumstances, which only makes you even more scared. The third man is taller, with both green hair and an intimidating scowl plastered on his face. But, more concerningly, he had three swords in his hands. 

The sight of the weapons snap you out of your trance, and you take off as fast as you could go in the condition that you were in. behind you the men start yelling, the thump of boots indicating that you were being chased. It wasn’t like you could escape, trapped on a pirate ship in the middle of the ocean, but you weren't going down without a fight. But, without any weapons, you were left with one choice- to use your powers to survive. If they didn’t kill you… 

Now standing at the bow of the ship, the same men from before corner you, alongside an additional three people and one…. Thing. The green haired man from earlier steps forward, breaking the tense silence as he speaks. 

“Just who in the hell are you?” No. They couldn’t find out who you really were. You stay quiet, levelling him with the worst glare you could muster. 

The sound of unclasping swords is his response, sounding loud in the quiet of the sea. Now. 

You tense, bringing your hands up and forward as the familiar pull of the ocean flowing through your veins as you move. A gasp escapes the group of pirates as twin water spouts jet out of the water, moving in front of you to act as a makeshift weapon. 

You look up to see the man fully unsheath a sword, studying your movement. You tense your legs, bringing your hands together, the water mimicking your movements. The movement sends a shutter up your back, and then it happens- 

No. 

Blinding pain shoots out from the back of your neck, the water instantly dropping as you fall to your knees, pain flowing through your veins. You can feel your conscious start to fade, the figures of the people surrounding you growing blurry, and then black. 

<●>

It’s disorientating, the second time you wake up on the ship. 

You’re back in the same bedroom that you had run out of just hours ago, the realisation hitting you as you sit up, fast enough to send stars flying through your vision. Fuck. Fuck. FuckFuckFuckFuck- 

You scramble to your feet, a familiar headache forming against the back of your head from using your abilities. You twist the doorknob, only to find it locked. The click of the metal latch sends panic through you, and you start pounding your fists against the door, anger rising as you continue at your attempt to break the door down. 

Then- it opens, to your surprise, sending you falling yet again against someone’s chest. You look up to see the green-haired man from earlier staring down at you, a mix of anger and confusion on his face as he watches your movements. 

“Let me go.” You break the silence, attempting to look over the broad shoulders of the man, only to spot other members of the crew behind him. 

Suddenly, a head of black hair and a straw hat appears, the same strange boy from before shoving past the larger man with a smile. He steps towards you, staring at your quivering figure and puts his hand out, as if he was waiting for you to shake his hand. 

“I’m Luffy. What’s your name?” 

You stare at the boy, flabbergasted at his actions. Who asks the stowaway in their ship for their name? You step back, wary of the boy standing before you. As the seconds pass, you realise that it might not be a trap. Oh, what the hell. 

You mutter your name, waiting for the gasp, the shouts, the anger that happens when people realise who you're related to, but there’s nothing. You look up to see the boy still looking at you with his strange smile, still holding his hand out. 

You cautiously grasp his hand, quickly shaking hands before stepping back once again. His smile grows even bigger, and he laughs, repeating your name. The sound immediately breaks the tension in the room, the taller man relaxing somewhat as he stares you down. 

“So, why’d you stowaway on our ship?” The taller man speaks up, deep voice betraying no emotion. 

You gulp, looking away from the group that had congregated at the door, feeling the same panic from before rising in your body. 

The man scowls, continuing to speak. “You stowaway on our ship, get sick, we saved you and wasted precious materials on you, and when you try to escape you collapse yet again. And on top of all of this, you have devil fruit powers. While Luffy here might be kind, you better explain yourself before I personally cut you to ribbons.” 

His words make your stomach twist, the now familiar panic continuing to rise as you stand there, sweating. Fuck. I guess I’ll have to explain. 

“I was sold off to a man to be married. Instead of allowing that to happen, I killed him and went on the run. My father issued a bounty and I had to escape, so I jumped on the closest ship available and this just so happened to be it.”  There. That should be enough for them to not grow suspicious of me. 

The man scoffs, disbelieving of your words. “Yeah, right. Stop trying to create a sob story to earn our sympathy-” 

You cut the man off, digging into your pocket and pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper, carefully unfolding it. You hold it up for everyone to see. The image of your face stares out at them, a ten million bounty written across the bottom. 

“Is this good enough proof?” You stare up at the man, scowling. He scoffs yet again, stepping forward to grab the paper out of your hand. 

“Fine, So this is true. What about your story?” He lets the paper fall to the ground, setting a hand back on his swords. 

“Okay Zoro, That’s enough. She’s clearly telling the truth. Leave her alone, we’ll let her stay until we make port again.” A female voice speaks up, sharp in the quiet. 

A woman steps forward, short orange hair standing bright against the rest of the crew. She shoves past the man deemed Zoro and moves closer to you, holding out a hand. “I’m Nami. Sorry for Zoro’s behaviour, He’s just a bit suspicious of any outsiders.” 

You shake her hand with a bit more ease, thankful for the kindness. She turns back to face the rest of the group, arms folded across her front. 

“She’s running for her life, she has no idea who we are. Luffy, you’re fine with her staying just until we reach port, right?” She turns to face the boy from earlier, glaring at him. 

“Of course she can stay! Where else is she supposed to go!?” His voice is loud in the small room, and it seems to solidify the plan. The original man, “Zoro”, swears under his breath, abruptly turning around and leaving the room. The rest of the crew slowly dissipates, leaving you alone with Nami, who turns back to face you once again. 

You stand up, turning back to look at the woman on the bed. “Please accept my apology. If there is anything I can do to help, I will do it.” 

Nami stands up, moving closer to you. “None of this was your fault. It was clear to see that you had no idea where you are or who we are. And of course you can help, we could always use an extra set of hands!” She smiles, continuing. 

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the crew. They’re a bit strange, but I’ll handle that.”  She starts walking out of the room, leaving you to stand there, alone. Still processing her words, you jump, starting to sweat as you follow the woman out of the room. 

She leads you out of the hallway, back the way that you had run the first time you had woken up. You take the time to look around the ship as the two of you walk. The hallway opens up into the deck of the ship, where a group of people stands- the rest of the crew. Their loud chatter halts as you and Nami draw closer, turning to look at you. 

Nami steps forward, waving a hand over the group of people. “The blond man is Sanji, the cook. Then there’s Robin, Usopp, Chopper, and the two that you’ve already met- Zoro, a swordsman, and our captain, Luffy.” The group stays silent for a minute, and then chaos breaks out. 

“My, aren't you a beautiful flower! Would you like me to make you anything? A drink? A snack!?”  The blond man named Sanji steps forward, bending down on one knee to kiss your hand. The words immediately make you uncomfortable, and you step back, wrenching your hand away from him. 

“Sanji, you idiot! Can you keep it in your pants for five minutes and not bother the woman!” Nami’s voice breaks through, her hand coming down to punch the top of his head, knocking him down onto his back with a quiet ow. 

The loud strange boy from before steps forward, eyes taking in everything that you do, almost as if he was inspecting you. 

“You made the ocean move.” He speaks up, the words making your eyes bulge as you look down at him. You gulp, stepping back.

“Well yes…” You quietly say, inching towards Nami as you speak. The woman in question looks like she’s going to burst a vessel as she glares at Luffy, stepping in front of you.

“You, Don’t bother her either! She doesn’t need to explain everything to you!” She thumps him on the back of the head, making him wobble back. 

He completely ignores the woman’s words. “I ate a Devil fruit as well, the Gum Gum Fruit. I’m a rubber man!” 

You stare at him, almost disbelieving of his words as you hide behind Nami. The boy in question, as if to prove his words true, stretches his arm. Stretches it further then humanly possible, so that it wrapped around the main mast of the ship before letting it snap back to it’s original length. 

Nami slaps him across the head again, continuing to yell at him about ‘not scaring the new girl’. You step away from the both of them, already done with the both of them. 

“Quite the handful, aren’t they.” A voice speaks up from behind you, making you jump. You quickly turn to face the woman who had spoken, spotting the one that Nami had called Robin. She stares you down, taking a moment to study your nervous form, just as the swordsman had done. It leaves you uneasy, how her eyes seemed to pierce directly into your soul. 

The next to speak up is a boy with a massive nose, loud mouth already starting to blabber on. “If you think that you can just stowaway on our ship and get away with it, you’re dead wrong. Just because Nami and Luffy think that you’re innocent doesn’t mean that I trust you! You should know that I am Usopp, commander of eight hundred men! Zoro here has taken on at least that number, if not more, without even breaking a sweat!” 

You roll your eyes at his theatrics, levelling him with a glare of distaste as you stare at the strange man. You turn back around to wander back over to Nami, intending to stick by her side, when a piercing whistle fills the air. The people surrounding you immediately jump into action, spotting three black dots growing closer to the ship- directly towards where you were standing. 

Suddenly, The blur of a body fills your vision, flying directly into the cannonball's path. A yell pinches in your throat, but you couldn’t speak, only watching with widened eyes as the metal presses into his skin, stretching it until it could no longer move. Then, with a starling yell, the balls go flying back in the direction of where they had come from, leaving not one scratch on the ship you were standing on. 

The boy lands on the deck, body shrinking back to it’s usual appearance as he turns to face the crew as if nothing had happened. The rest of the crew are still staring at the horizon,  studying an approaching body of a ship that slowly draws closer. What the fuck. 

Nami catches your widened eyes and gives you a bright smile. “That’s our captain for you. His devil fruit powers come in handy!”

You nod, still too stunned to speak. 

From behind you comes a high-pitched squeal, the sound making you cringe as it rings out across the ship, turning around to see the same man from before, (the one that had attempted to threaten you)  curled up into a ball, tears streaming down his face. You stare at him, face contorted into a look of disgust as he sobs. The other crew members ignore him, busy with destroying the other cannon balls flying at the ship. What was wrong with these people!? 

As the cannonballs fly thicker, the ship draws closer and you realise that the ship is familiar to you- meaning only one thing- that it was the marines. Your eyes widen, body freezing in place as the ship sails closer, bringing into view the face of your father’s right hand man: Commander Vee. 

The man standing in front of you was known for his cruelty and hatred of pirates, torturing anyone who even showed the slightest sympathy towards pirates. Even your own father had feared him, (Not that he would admit it).  You hadn’t spent much time around him- due to both your attitude and refusal to cooperate with any of the hoity-toity upper class- but the minimal time you did interact with the man bad left you with a bad taste in your mouth, as if you would come to regret the few words you had spoken to him. 

You snapped back into your current predicament to see Nami staring at you, fear etched in her expression as she screams your name, the desperation making you turn to face what she was so terrified of- only to see a cannonball flying directly at your face. 

You instinctually duck, the cannonball whooshing by your head just seconds after, only to be cut in half with a flick of Zoro’s swords. He towers over where you sit, sprawled out against the hard wood of the ship. 

“Get out of the way if you’re just gonna be a distraction.” He glares down at you, letting the  of being saved from a stupid fucking canon ball fill you- before his attention is abruptly taken by more incomming canon balls, and he runs off, intent on saving the ship. 

Anger and embarrassment flood your veins as you stand up, face flushing red as you right yourself. Asshole. You turn back to face the marine ship, an idea slowly forming. Maybe… 

You move towards the front of the ship, staring directly at the ship in front of you. The familiar fear of Commander Vee fills you, but still you stand, focusing on the water surrounding the ship. You could feel the muffled pull of the water, a familiar sensation that you had missed. You spread your arms out, towards the ship in front of you, focusing on the brilliant blue of the sea. This was going to hurt. A tugging sensation pulls at your hands, making you stumble, as a pressure builds at the back of your skull. The confused voices of the crew fade as you press forward, drawing as much energy as you can muster. The sea has grown quiet, as still as solid ground, and then-  it explodes. 

A jet of water shoots from the centre of the ship, the sound of wood splintering accompanying as the vessel cracks into two pieces, sending sailors shrieking as they fall into the raging waters. Commander Vee had disappeared amidst the chaos, unknowing that you of all people had done that to one of his ships. (Hopefully, you guess. He’d probably have drawn some sort of conclusion by now). You drop to your knees at the explosion, the rising pressure exploding into pain at the back of your neck, creeping up your skull as you clutch your head in your hands. Your breathing stutters, the pain flowing through your body in waves as you curl up on the deck, wishing that you were dead. 

The pain slowly fades, growing fainter and fainter as time passes, and you gradually come back- finding your nails digging crescent shaped grooves into the skin of your palms, thin lines of blood trickling from the cuts. You blink your eyes open, finding the blurry outline of a strange racoon dog crouched down in front of you with a concerned expression on its face as it studies your hunched form. Your eyes widen, the creature mirroring your expression as it scrambles backwards, letting out a small scream. The rest of the crew seemed to have gathered around your figure, relief evident on Nami’s face as you carefully sat up, grimacing at the bright sunlight. 

Nami calls your name, coming forward to crouch down beside you. “Was that you? The marine ship explosion?” 

You gingerly nod in response, shaking off the remnants of the headache as you attempt to stand up, muscles shaking- an unnatural weakness from what had just happened. Thanks, dad. The racoon creature darts forwards again, pushing you back down onto your back. Surprised, you lie back down, staring back up at the creature as it begins to speak. “You need to stay down! You just collapsed after using your powers, something is  clearly wrong!” 

You scoff, glancing off to the side to avoid his exaggeratedly wide eyes. “It’s fine, this has happened before. There’s a reason for it, you don’t have to worry.” 

The creature seems to vibrate with anxiety- nervous eyes softening at your words, which just makes you angry. “I’m fine. It’s just linked to my abilities. I just wanted to help get away from the marines.” The words seem to work, and most of the crew disperse, leaving just Nami and the creature at your side- the two of them talking to each other. 

“Hey, do you mind talking to Chopper? He’s our doctor and might be able to help you with your problem.” She gestures to the raccoon dog beside her. 

You eye the creature, who is ruffling through a bag that was at his side, something that you think is just for show. Fine. What was the harm? Maybe he could even help you. “Sure.”

Nami smiles. “Great! I’ll leave the two of you alone, then.” And with that you’re alone with the creature. 

He closes the bag, turning back to face you. “We can talk more in my office. Come with me.” 

You follow him across the ship, down a hallway and into a small room containing shelves overflowing with random plants, jars of what appears to be medicine, different coloured pills, and more. There was a desk and a pair of chairs underneath a porthole window, the creature motioning with a hand for you to sit down. You do so, eyeing the mess of medical related things with caution. 

The creature sits down on the opposite chair, facing you with a matter-of-fact expression. “Did you know that you have a sea crystal embedded in the back of your neck?”

Your eyes widen, then narrow, shock turning into anger at his words as you stare at him. “How the fuck did you come up with that!?” 

The creature scrambles back, strange hoof-hands coming up as he talks. “H-Hey! Don’t get angry, I only figured it out after you tried to use your powers! It was fairly obvious that something was stopping you from using them, and I only found the crystal when you collapsed!” 

His words make you pause, sitting back in your chair as you stare him down. He’s way more observant then you had originally thought. You sigh, the familiar pain of a headache lacing its way across the front of your head as you drag a hand down your face. “Yeah, I knew. Is there anything you can do about it?” 

He shuffles through some papers on his desk, appearing to read something from a page before he turns to face you, nervously shuffling said papers. “I could attempt to remove the crystal, if you wanted me to.” 

You stare at the creature for a second as the words register, lips parting in disbelief. “Excuse me!?”

He nervously nods, confirming what you had heard. 

The weight of his words sink in, that you could finally be free of his control, that you could finally sever the last remaining connection to your father- that you could finally be free. But- at what cost? 

That thought pulls you out of your day dream, bringing you back to the harsh reality that you stood face to face with. “You’d do something that kind for someone you don’t know? For a stowaway on your ship? That doesn’t seem quite… right.” 

The creature pauses, continuing to stare at the floor in front of you as he speaks. “If a doctor can, then they should help everyone they can. It’s not up to me to decide who should and shouldn’t get help. I’m just trying to help you. And, you helped us with those marines even with the knowledge of what would happen to your body if you used your powers.”

Your anger starts to fade at his words, turning to a strange mix of sadness and hope that you attempt to subdue, mixing together in your stomach in turmoil. At your hesitation, the creature continues; “I didn’t want to say this earlier, but from your reaction to the sea crystal from earlier, you’ll probably die if you continue to use your powers while the sea crystal is in your body.” 

You freeze at his words, staring at him with wide eyes. Your thoughts start to spin, emotions rising and falling as you take in what he said. No. You couldn’t let your father take anything else from you. You wouldn’t. 

“Fine. Do what needs to be done.” Your words break the tense silence, the creature releasing a deep sigh of relief. 

“If this is going to be done, It’ll need to be done quickly so that you’ll be healed by the time we reach port. I’ll talk to the others to come up with a plan. In the meantime, don’t use your powers.” He emphasises the last few words with a flick of his papers. You scoff, rolling your eyes as he patters out of the room, strange hooved feet clicking against the wooden boards of the ship, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

You stare at the floor, going over what the creature had told you. So. you’d die if you used your powers with the sea crystal still attached to you. The thought makes you scoff yet again. Of course this would happen- your father was attached to it. He'd always have to have some form of control over you, whether it be physical or mental. And now here you are, letting an uncertified doctor operate on you, a pirate no less. (He wasn’t human either. Honestly, you have no clue what was going to happen). You get up from the chair,  deciding to wander around the ship to get an idea of where everything was- you were going to be spending the next few weeks on the ship, so why not?

You wander out of the doctor creature’s room, heading down the hallway and away from the deck. There are twin lines of doors that you leave untouched, following the corridor until it opens up into a room. The room is large, with a state-of-the-art kitchen set up that sparkles in sunlight that comes through large windows that show the ship’s wake. You move over to the windows, staring out at the open sea, the ship leaving a trail of foamy white waves as the only sign that it was ever there. 

“Is there anything I can help you with, Mademoiselle?” A voice breaks you out of your thoughts, making you jump. You spin around to face the blond man from before, the one that Nami had called Sanji. The one that had tried to flirt with you. The stowaway. He was staring at you expectantly, waiting for you to respond. 

“Excuse me?” You give him a deer-in-headlights look, unknowing of what he was trying to do. The man steps closer to you and bends down on one knee, grabbing your hand in both of his warm ones and bringing it to his lips in an exaggerated motion. 

“I am the chef of this ship, and you are standing in my kitchen; so, mademoiselle, is there anything that I could do to help? Do you need me to make you something to eat?” You wrench your hand out of his grasp as he speaks, stepping away from the strange man. Was everyone on this ship fucking insane? 

“Uh, No thanks. I was just getting an idea of the ship and came across this room. I’ll be going now.” You inch away from him, ignoring his protests as you back out of the room.  You wander back down the hallway, glancing around as you move. You find yourself back out on the deck of the ship, blinking in the sudden bright sunlight and wind that tugs at your hair. In front of you stretches out the main deck, three main masts breaking up the massive wooden platform. At the top of the largest mast there is a small room that overlooks the entire ship. The main mast’s sail has a massive skull-and-crossbones symbol with a straw hat painted onto the material that stares you down as you walk across the ship. 

From behind you someone calls your name, making you turn in surprise, spotting Nami waving down at you from the top deck of the ship, gesturing for you to come over. You smile slightly, quickly heading up the wooden steps to the small deck, where a few of the crew had gathered. Among them was the doctor creature from before, immersed in conversation with the captain, (Luffy), and the annoying man that had screamed like a child, (Usopp. You should really start remembering their names or at least come up with some sort of nicknames for them). Additionally, the man with the green hair, (Zoro, or what Sanji had called him, Moss Head) was sitting on the deck, deep asleep and snoring over the conversation. 

“There you are! We didn’t get to properly thank you for what you did- especially after what Chopper just told us about your condition- Why didn’t you tell us earlier!?” She switches from a wide smile to a glare in seconds as she yells the last few words, making your eyes widen at the emotional whiplash. 

You step back from her menacing aura, face flushing as the others turn to stare at you. “Uh, I didn’t think it was that important?”  you break the silence, unknowing of what to say to calm her down. 

Nami crosses her arms at your statement, narrowing her eyes. “You didn’t think it was important to mention that you could die if you used your powers?” 

The reaction of the other crewmate shows you that they had no clue of what the creature-doctor had told Nami, at long-nose’s (Usopp), crying and Luffy’s head snapping to stare at you, strange eyes staring into your soul. From behind them a scoff sounds, and a head of green hair stands up, Zoro’s form stepping closer and into the circle of pirates. “As if that’s true. She’s probably trying to gain more sympathy or something. I don’t trust it for a second, and you guys shouldn’t either.” 

The swordsman’s words break you out of your shock, making red hot rage seep into your expression as he stares you down, one hand on the swords at his side. You step closer to him, glaring up at the man. “Maybe you should be more grateful that I saved your ass.” 

He steps closer to you, arms coming to cross against his chest in an effort to intimidate you, (It works, but you’re way too angry to back down). “We would’ve been fine without you. It was just one marine ship; it wasn’t like it could’ve done much.” 

Just as you open your mouth to retort, Nami steps between the two of you, breaking the tension as she speaks. “Okay you guys, break it up. Zoro, if Chopper says that something is wrong with her, then something is wrong. Stop acting like an asshole.” The man gives you one last sneer before he turns away, ambling down the steps and into the ship, disappearing from view. 

With Zoro gone, Nami turns back to face you, mouth set into a firm line. “Sorry for Zoro- he’s just acting like an asshole. I’ll talk to him later, after we’ve sorted out how we can help you.” She pauses, giving you a chance to talk. 

The anger has started to fade, replaced with guilt. “I’m sorry for causing trouble.” Nami looks at you questioningly, and then laughs, to your embarrassment. 

“It’s not your fault for Zoro’s actions, so don’t feel guilty. Now, we need to discuss how we’re gonna get that sea crystal out of your neck.” She turns back to face the rest of the crew, ordering them to leave, with only you, Chopper, and Nami. (Honestly it seemed like Nami was more of a captain then Luffy- but the crew already seemed insane, so this was the least of their problems). 

You move over to lean against the railing of the deck as Nami and the others form a small half circle around you. “How is this going to work?” You break the silence, both scared and curious as to how this doctor creature would attempt to get the sea crystal out. 

“I’ve explained the situation to most of the crew, so they should leave us alone for the most part. We have access to medicines and such that will be able to knock you out, and then I'll be able to take the sea crystal out.” Chopper speaks up, squeaky voice quiet in the air. 

Nami hums in response. “Is there anything that we’ll need to do? When is this going to happen?” 

“Just keep the other crew members out of the room. Because this operation is taking place on your neck, It would be better to do it at port and on land, but our current circumstances make it practically impossible. Due to the nature of the reaction you have to the sea crystal, It should be done as quickly as possible- the next few days at the latest.” He pauses, taking a moment to think. 

“On top of this, recovery time will be significant as it is on your neck and you’ll want to be decently healed by the time we make the port.” 

You nod, thinking over what Chopper had said. “So, what’s the earliest that we could do this? If it's okay, I want to get this done as soon as possible.”  

Chopper sighs, turning to look up at you. “I’ll need a few hours to figure some things out, but we could probably start at some time tonight.” 

His words shock you- (He’d be willing to do the surgery today? More importantly, would you survive?)- “Are you sure?” 

Nami pipes up, “Don’t worry, Chopper has saved most of the members of our crew from death several times- this’ll be a walk in the park!” 

The words bring some comfort, but the scepticism still lingers as you chat with the two of them for a little while longer before you part ways. 

<●>

The rest of the day was spent helping out Nami, worrying, and occasionally butting heads with Zoro. Finally, the sun begins to sink below the waves, the sky blooming into a mix of red, pink, orange, and yellow, forming a perfect reflection against the glass-like water of the sea. You study the picturesque view with a solemn expression, thoughts spinning of what was going to happen. (Granted, you probably won’t die, but there is still a chance- and that chance is what bothers you). 

From behind you comes a squeaky voice calling your name, Chopper. “I’ve finished setting up, so if you're ready, I can start." 

You give the sunset one last look before you turn to face him, stomach flipping. "I'm ready." He nods, and motions for you to follow him.

He brings you to a room quite similar to the first room he had taken you to- wall to wall with jars of strangely coloured plants, liquids, and whatever else he could've had. Except, where his desk would've been there was a cot, set up alongside a table with all sorts of medical equipment that just looking at made you queasy.

“I have something for you to drink that will knock you out for the surgery. You should wake up in about a day or so, if everything goes accordingly.” He moves over to the table covered in equipment, grabbing a cup that appears to contain a strange blue liquid. 

You sit down on the edge of the cot, accepting the cool glass with thanks. “So I just have to drink this and I’ll wake up tomorrow with the sea crystal removed?” 

Chopper nods. “It won’t taste that good, but you’ll be out within minutes, so make sure you’re on the cot.” At his approval you eye the cup dubiously, then down it in one gulp. The taste makes you shutter, mouth tingling as a strange sensation starts to take over your body. You quickly hand the glass back, feeling as though your body weighed several times more then what it truly was. You sink back into the cot, sleep already pulling at your conscious starts to fade- and you’re gone. 

<●>

Your consciousness comes back in waves. 

There's a strange feeling that fills your head, a sort of buzzing unlike anything you had ever felt. It wasn’t unpleasant, per say, but it was new. Your eyes blink open in a fuzzy haze to a multicoloured sunrise that floods the room you lie in. The buzzing remains in the back of your head, forming a tugging sensation that seems to want to guide you somewhere. You sit up with a groan,  feeling a thick bandage hindering the movement of your neck, leaving you unable to turn your head very far. Your hands move up to feet the wrappings, finding them wrapped solidly around your neck, an even thick padding around the back. It doesn’t hurt, but it is sensitive. 

From across the room a door opens, a small form with antlers making it’s way over, hooves clicking against the wooden floorboards being the only sound in the room. “You’ve woken up? How are you feeling?” Chopper's squeaky voice breaks the quiet. 

You let your hands fall back to your sides. “It doesn’t hurt, if that’s what you're asking. Did you manage to remove the sea crystal?” Your stomach twists, a familiar unease filling you. 

He smiles. “Yep! And fully intact. Although, it was buried a lot deeper then I had originally thought.” 

His words make you freeze, any and all background noise fading as you take in his words. What? Was it true? You were finally free? A smile starts to grow on your face, your eyes burning as you turn to look at Chopper, voice thick with emotion as you speak. “Thank you.” 

He seems taken aback at your emotional state; eyes widened as he watches a tear creep down your face. “Uh- you’re welcome, but are you okay? Are you in pain?” He moves closer, grabbing your wrist to check your pulse between two cold hooves. 

“No, no, It’s not that, I feel fine. Sorry for scaring you, I was just overwhelmed.” You look away from him, embarrassment flushing your cheeks bright red. 

“O-Oh! Sorry, I overreacted. If you’re feeling up to it you should be able to get up and move about as normal, minus stretching/moving your neck. The crystal was deep, so the wound might need a little bit longer then I was originally thinking to heal. Make sure not to twist/move your neck around during the next few weeks. Other then that, you should be good to go!”  He releases your wrist, stepping back from the cot with a smile. 

A genuine smile starts to pull at the corners of your mouth, your heart feeling lighter then ever. You were free. Free from your father. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me.” 

Chopper blushes, (How, you have no idea), and starts insulting you, but you’re already standing up, legs wobbly as you head out of the room and down the hall, the strange buzzing sensation pulling you along. It seems to be leading you somewhere, almost as if…

You find yourself back out on the open deck, mouth agape at the stunning beauty of the sea. But you don’t have long to study it, the buzzing sensation from earlier  growing stronger, almost dragging you towards the side of the ship. You stare over the edge of the railing, down at the multicoloured waves that surround the ship. They’re mesmerising, it almost makes you want to- 

Before you know it, your hands feel nothing but open air, and you're plummeting over the edge of the deck and into the sea. But where there would have been panic there is nothing but a serene sense of calm that washes over you as you hit the sea and start to sink. Your eyes open, the water as clear as the air above the sea, letting you study your surroundings. Your breath didn’t even need to be held, you were instinctively already breathing in the water as if it was air. Above you lay the bottom of the ship you had been on moments prior, steadily creeping away from you. You laugh, feeling your hair floating around you in a halo as you stand suspended in the open water. 

You take off, following the ship as you move forward, letting the water pull you along, almost as if your powers weren’t needed. But- you could feel the wound on the back of your neck start to sting, then burn, the pain growing stronger the more time you spent under the water. Fuck. You should probably get back on the ship. You will the water to bring you up, and a current suddenly appears below you, bubbles swirling as you are pushed up at an increasing speed until you break the surface, a rush of water sending you up and over the side of the ship, where you land in a heap on the now wet deck. You cough, sending a wave of salty sea water out of your lungs as you unsteadily bring yourself onto your knees, pushing your hair out of your eyes. You feel lighter then ever before, a smile creeping onto your face even as you cough, neck burning. 

Free. You were finally free. 

______________________________________________________________

so... I wasn't expecting this to be so long lmao honestly I'm surprised I wrote so much tho please feel free to leave ideas, thoughts, opinions, criticism and more!

[thelazyecrivain]

Fluffbruary - day 27 (photograph)

Day twenty-seven of @fluffbruary, using the prompt "photograph"

Read on AO3

French version

----

"This is when Sherlock received his first microscope. He was so happy that he forgot about the other presents. We couldn't take his microscope away from him for a week." Mummy Holmes smiles at the memory.

John looks at little Sherlock, his hair a mess, his microscope in his hands, his eyes wide with surprise. He looks adorable in his well-tailored clothes, simple straight trousers, shirt and sleeveless jumper. 

"Oh, and that day we found him asleep with his dog, Redbeard." She directs his gaze to another photo. "They played all day and decided to take their nap under the oldest tree. It was his favourite tree because he could climb the branches which were strong."

Redbeard is curled up in a ball, Sherlock lying on his stomach. A pirate hat hangs in the corner of the picture, a wooden sword around Sherlock's waist. His jumper is damaged, leaves stuck between the wool threads but also in his crazy curls. John can't help but pull out his phone and take a picture.

"Our little Sherlock has given us a run for our money."

John laughs. "And it's still going on."

"But we love him too much." She says lovingly, looking at Sherlock sitting at the table with his father in the next room.

"Oh yes we do." John says, following her gaze.

Sherlock seems to feel his mother and John's gaze on him as he turns to them. Seeing them with a photo album, he grimaces, but stands up anyway. "Is it really necessary to bother John with the photos?"

"Absolutely, it's very crucial." Said John seriously, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but accepted John's invitation to sit next to him.

"Remember when you made a boat out of the books in the library?" Mummy Holmes asks, showing John the photo taken that day. The boat is very well represented, two tufts of hair sticking out of the pile of books, brown curls and red curls.

"I remember the scolding that followed as these were books that have been in our family for generations. I always said it's dangerous to leave them so easily accessible." Sherlock growled.

John asked him to be nicer by placing a hand on his thigh. Mummy Holmes forgot his remark with a wave of her hand.

"Since you left the house, I don't have many pictures of Mycroft and you." She said pleadingly, wanting to make her point. "How about we take one now?"

Sherlock sighed, but wanting to please his mother-in-law, John agreed sharply. She asked them to stay on the couch and move closer together. Despite his protests, Sherlock did so, resting his arm on the backrest around John's shoulders. The latter put his hand back on his thigh, and pinched it when Sherlock refused to smile.

"You don't have to agree with everything my mother says. I know you want to be liked by my family, but you don't have to do much. As long as you support me enough to want to be my partner, that's enough." Sherlock murmurs.

"I know you love your parents, despite what you let on. I wouldn't want to look bad to people you care about very much."

"They adore you, John. No one can resist your charm, of course they like you very much." 

John turned to Sherlock to fall into his serious gaze.

"Unless you don't hurt me." Sherlock grinned. "No one can guarantee your safety, not me, not Mycroft."

John smiled, "I'll be careful then."

At that moment, a camera sound echoes around the room. Sherlock and John came out of their bubble, having completely forgotten about the photograph.

Mummy Holmes showed them the picture, a proud smile on her lips. They look at each other, their bodies leaning towards each other, John smiling at a serious but loving looking Sherlock. 

"You two are so adorable. I'll print it out and put it in the photo album." She says as she leaves.

Sherlock's father comes into the room, giving the couple a sorry look. "She'll show the picture to everyone."

"Stop telling them nonsense." Screams Mummy Holmes from the other room. This makes the three men laugh.

(tell me if you wish to be tagged !) @topsyturvy-turtely @missdeliadili @mxster-jocale

[dragonedged-if]

Writing Prompt: Inner Demons

So I played Sekiro yesterday and till now my mind is filled with samurai's and katanas lol.

I couldn't concentrate on my IF so I decided to write a snippet.

Also, if you're a writer or a reader you can use this as a prompt to your story or just write for fun but remember if you use it, just give me credit :)

I am standing beneath the towering bamboo trees, seeking refuge from the scorching sun. Despite the shade, the sun's rays still manage to sneak through, causing me to adjust my sedge hat for the third time. Sweat beads form on my forehead, and I can feel the sun's gaze burning down on me.

As I scan my surroundings, I can't help but feel as though the sun is taunting me, shifting its angle to intensify its fiery glare upon me. My skin feels as though it's on fire, and my throat is parched from the sweltering heat.

My hand instinctively reaches for the gourd hanging from my hip. With a quick flick of my wrist, I bring it to my lips and tilt my head back, allowing the cool, refreshing water to quench my parched throat. It's not the smooth, satisfying taste of sake, but it does the job. I'll have to find a proper bottle of sake once I pass through the next town.

With a deep breath, I take a step forward, my feet sinking into the dirt beneath me. The path ahead is uncertain, but I must remain focused and vigilant. As I walk, the sound of rustling leaves and chirping birds surround me, and I take solace in the peace and tranquility of nature.

As the sun reached its peak, a gust of wind swept through the Valley of Whispers, stirring the tall bamboo stalks into a synchronized dance. Their rustling whispers filled the air, resembling the soft murmur of human voices.

The forest earned its name not from its topography, but from the eerie sounds produced by the bamboo grove every noon. Locals believed that the whispers belonged to the spirits of fallen samurai, haunting the valley in search of peace.

I'm never been a supertitious lot but I can say that the whispers are starting to sound more clear as the minute pass by and if you listen close, you can even pinpoint a voice of a little girl.

But I dismiss the thought and focus on the read ahead, no use getting my imagination the best of me.

The wind begins to subside, but the whispers persist, accompanying me like a loyal ally. Suddenly, a blur of movement catches the corner of my eye. My instincts kick in, and I subtly adjust my hat, affording me a better view. My eyes dart to the source of the disturbance, and there, among the bamboo groves, I spot a shadow darting from cover to cover.

My senses are on high alert, and though my mind tells me that the stalking shadow is merely a trick of the forest, I know better. I have felt this sensation before, the feeling of being hunted like prey. Without hesitation, I raise my hand and grip the tsuba of my sword, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

As a ronin, I have traveled far and wide, never once straying from the teachings of my master. Even in death, his voice echoes in my mind, guiding me with his wisdom.

"Kenji, listen to me," he had said. "I will impart to you three rules that allowed me to live a long life as a samurai. First, remember that the sword is an extension of you, a part of your soul. Train it like a muscle, for if your blade is dull, you will surely die. Second, be calm of mind and hone your senses. In this world, there is no good or bad, only those who seek to kill you. And finally, never doubt your instincts, no matter how ridiculous they may seem."

As I draw my sword with lightning speed, my instincts take over. Three kunai knives come hurtling towards me, but I am ready. With the precision and grace of a master swordsman, I deflect them effortlessly, each strike ringing out like a bell.

As I turn to face my attacker, I catch a glimpse of their black shinobi garb, as dark as the night sky. It's as if they are swallowing up the light from the sun. I can feel my heart racing, but my training keeps me calm.

The figure is adorned with kunai knives strapped to their legs, and polished metal balls are hanging from their belt. But it is the mask they wear that truly sends chills down my spine. It is the mask of a red demon oni, its teeth sharp and pointed like daggers. It is a symbol of death and destruction, a warning to all those who cross their path.

I raise my voice, hoping to provoke the mysterious figure to speak. "So they sent an assassin!" I shout with conviction, my hand firmly grasping the hilt of my sword.

The stranger responds with a swift movement, shifting their sword to their left side and drawing a wakizashi from its scabbard. The small sword is like a little brother to the katana, and I can tell this is a skilled warrior.

But the stranger is not finished yet. With two swords in hand, they slowly raise their free hand to their mask. I hold my breath, knowing that revealing one's identity can be a fatal mistake in the world of assassins.

With a deft movement, the mask is removed, and my heart skips a beat. I am face to face with myself. We share the same nose, the same clean-shaven chin, and even the same eyebrows. The only difference is in their eyes, which seem to glow like red orbs, and their pale, almost lifeless skin.

"I have come to claim your soul, ronin!" the assassin growls, their red eyes glowing menacingly as they brandish their weapons.

My hand tightens around the hilt of my sword as I prepare for the fight of my life. This enemy may look like me, but they are not me. They are an assassin, sent to kill me.

But as I ready myself, I cannot help but feel a twinge of fear. This opponent is unlike any I have faced before. They know my every move, my every thought. How can I defeat them?

I close my eyes and bow my head, calling upon the wisdom of my master. "Guide my sword and offer me your wisdom once more," I pray silently.

With a deep breath, I open my eyes and charge forward, meeting the assassin's attack with a fierce clash of steel. The sound echoes through the forest as we exchange blows, each strike ringing out like a thunderclap.

As we fought, I could hear my master's voice in my mind, guiding me with every step. His teachings echoed in my heart, giving me the strength and skill to hold my own against my doppelganger.

"Kenji, remember that the sword is an extension of you," his voice whispered. "Let it flow like water, and strike with the force of a thunderbolt."

With a swift motion, I raise my sword and take a defensive stance, watching as the assassin approaches. Their movements are quick and precise, their two swords flashing through the air like deadly snakes. I can feel their eyes on me, their gaze burning into my skin like hot coals.

The sounds of our swords clashing echoed through the valley as I stood, face to face with my opponent. I was a ronin, a samurai without a master, and my enemy was a skilled warrior, trained in the art of swordsmanship.

With every clash of our blades, my enemy seemed to know my next move. It was as if they could predict my every thought, every action. But I had one advantage: I was not bound by the strict code of honor that governed the samurai.

As my enemy swung their sword towards me, I deftly parried the attack and raised my own weapon, striking them in the face with the handle. They staggered back, stunned, and I seized the opportunity to strike.

I sliced my sword across their midsection, and black blood spilled forth, sizzling in the bright sunlight. I pushed my blade into their stomach and dragged it across, watching as the blood disappeared in a puff of smoke.

But my victory was short-lived. Behind me, I heard the sound of laughter. "Is that all you've got, ronin?" my enemy taunted, rising to their feet.

I turned to face them, gripping my sword tightly. This battle was far from over, and I knew that my opponent was not to be underestimated.

[thefutureiswhatwemakeofit]

Binding Ritual

Slice of lime and shot of rum

Sugared syrup poured to taste

Hand of mint crushed under thumb

Muddle gently, without haste

Speak the words and add the ice

Crushed in crystals, through and through 

Stir it slowly, clockwise thrice

Then widdershins, then to this brew

You add a soda water splash

A wizard's touch to give it fizz

More mint to garnish and a dash-

Which is when you say: hang on, isn't this the recipe for a mojito?

And I say: Breathe

And I say: Remember the summer with the orange blossom and the blue sky and the pink clouds and also the day I came round 

to watch the movie

where they said that the sky isn't really blue, it's rose where the sun falls and dusky

In the corners of the morning clouds

And green where it catches the tops of the trees

And feather-down white on that lockdown walk where the sky split between branches we hadn't seen a thousand times before

That day where we both needed a soft horizon

And you say: but, seriously, what about the mojito?

And I say: isn't it strange that so much life

Is found in freshly cut things?

In limes and lawns

In garden flowers to adorn

In onions and garlic, in ginger and thyme

And you say: in veins with ruby red lines 

Stop that

This isn't that kind of magic

This

Is a binding ritual

There is no blood spilt upon stones

No altar built of bones

No sacrifice, no dagger drawn

No scourge, no chains, no crown of thorns

And you say: You are wearing that big black cloak though

Hey, the cloak is cool

No it isn’t

It’s swishy!

It is swishy

It makes the next part look really good alright?

Spirits, come to me,appear

From moonless darkness and from flame

My words are bound and binding, hear

Hold fast this one: I speak your name

You shall not pass

You shall remain

On hill, on stone, in pouring rain

I bind with coins and angels wings

And ancient gods and heroes rings

I bind with symbols, circles, charms

Each time we meet I check your arms 

My third eye opens, that perceives

Makeup tricks, concealing sleeves

Inquires, with a magicians tact

About that disappearing act-

Go, pull a rabbit from a hat

Behold: his fur is warm, he’s fat

Be bound by chubby cheeks and paws

Not by pentacles, nor swords

But either way be bound and stay

Amongst us, here, in light of day

Ok, look

You clearly don’t know any magic

This is just stuff you’ve nicked 

From old plays

And fantasy books

And some of if was definitely from Sandman

You finally read Sandman?

Yeah, sort of

How far are you?

Not very far, but you were right, it’s good

And I say: Just you wait

And I say: I can remember you, in the sunshine

Laughing

How is that anything other than magic?

And somewhere there are words to say

That will lead us down the garden path

Down little streets in a warm country

Or big streets in a noisy city

Holding mojitos

Holding on 

When I say Spirits, I should see rum, not faces

Not your face, not a blur

That takes your place

A half-dream of the way you were

Before you became a shadow of yourself

A bottled message on a dusty shelf

A rusted djinni’s lamp inured

To every past attempt at help

What mage, do you imagine, will procure

Spells to make these stars align

What runes to draw

What eldritch sign

Will have you knocking at my door?

Tell me: sorcery or rhyme?

What incantation, O, which hidden lore?

I try, I try, I bought this cloak online

And you say:

And you say:

No, this is the part where you say something

Where you say anything

Where you invite me round

Or invite someone else round

Or pick up the phone

Or

Chop onions for dinner

Imagine them

Freshly cut

Sizzling in butter

How is that anything other than magic?

Come outside

The sky is so fucking blue.

-Morgan WF

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under The Floorboards pt. IIII

(Technoblade X Reader): Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V

Whipping the sweat off your brow you placed the honey jars you collected on the ground, Phil really built this farm efficiently. However, that didn’t stop you needing to collect honey pots here and there, now that the vault was complete you could actually use the honey for normal things. Technoblade would never admit it but he loved when you put honey in his tea, contrary to popular belief he wasn’t a fan of plain black tea or coffee. You rolled up your sleeves and adjusted the sunhat that sat lazily on your head against your better judgment you had left your armor inside. The only thing on your person was a netherite ax Techno had enchanted for you, it was an effective weapon but without your armor, you were a bit of a sitting duck. As the bees buzzed and bumped lazily into each other, you couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight. They were just so silly. You picked up the crate of jars and turned around, your eyes narrowed as you saw some movement by the trees, it was still too early for Tommy and Technoblade to be back...so just who was snooping around the property. You felt very naked in your sun hat and overalls, especially if it was Dream himself that you were about to encounter. Your worry only increased as you noticed four men all in netherite armor walking towards the house, their swords were drawn. You had a feeling that these were the men who took Technoblade the day prior. They were like a little gang all dressed the same way, bloody aprons and all they really had the executioner vibes down. 

    “Hello, gentlemen.” You smiled giving them a wave while you adjusted the box of honey, “beautiful day isn’t it?” 

The first to answer was a man who had a scar from the tip of his eyebrow down to the bottom of his lip. He sent you a smile and you noticed a tooth missing from the upper row, a navy blue beanie held his dark hair in place. 

    “Very beautiful, it’s always a good day when the sun is shining.” He mused the sun in question reflected beautifully across all their netherite armor. The one thing you decided to leave inside, you weren’t intimidated nope not at all. “What’s your name sweetheart?”

    “(Y/N).” You responded with a hum, “Is there something that I can help you all with today?” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed two of the men moved to surround you, they thought they were slick. The only one who didn’t move was the tallest of the children there, he looked to be half Enderman. He also looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was right now poor thing. Drawing your gaze back to the other three men, you noticed one was Tommy’s age and had small horns atop his head, along with goat-like ears. A burn scar also took up half of his face. It made you frown distastefully, what was with these kids getting traumatized? First Tommy and now the half enderman and the goat kid, you couldn’t adopt all of them, well you could but it’d be a lot of work. The other looked to be part fox after all the big orange ears and the fluffy tail was dead give away, wait didn’t Ghostbur say his son was a fox. “Are you Fundy?” You asked, suddenly tilting your head to the side.

    “How do you know my name?” Fundy’s face flushed a little and he shuffled on his feet, his hand twitching to grab the sword that was at his side. 

    “I talked to your father earlier today. I’m assuming that’s how you found me?” You took the hat off your head and rested it on Carl’s stable. The fox gave a reluctant nod of confirmation you licked your lips and put your hands behind your back. “So? Do you have a problem with Technoblade or just me specifically?”

    “Wow, she’s not even a little bit ashamed.” Quackity mused and you frowned, “We’re here because your boyfriend blew up our country. He also disgraced our President right Tubbo? Don’t know if you’re aware of that or not but he escaped his punishment. So we intend to make him repent.” He walked towards you and you took a step away from him. 

    “That’s far enough thank you.” You held up your hand in hopes it would stop his trek towards you, Quackity did pause for a moment. He let out a chuckle and smiled. He thought your tough attitude was cute, but he was clearly mocking you. 

Jackass. 

    “Quackity maybe we should leave her be...she didn’t do anything.” The young goat kid murmured his ears flicking as he looked up at you. 

    “Quiet Tubbo. Let the adults speak,” Quackity snapped at him before clearing his throat and looking back at you. “Listen (Y/N) was it? We’re going to have to ask that you come with us. If you don’t we’ll have to take you by force.”

    “Wait, couldn't Technoblade have trained her?” The half enderman spoke holding up his finger in the air but no one seemed to pay him any attention. 

    “I guess force it is. Although the fight is a little unfair.” You took out your ax and twirled it in your hand, “Something tells me you don’t exactly like fair fights.” Fundy took a hesitant step backward not really wanting to lose a life for this of all things, but he pulled out his sword just in case. Clicking your tongue in distaste you sent a bloodthirsty smile their way, one that rivaled Technoblade, “Come at me.” 

Without hesitation, Quackity charged at you with his sword he didn’t aim to kill, just disarm or injure. You blocked the swing with the wooden part of your ax and spun around just in time to dodge an attack from Tubbo. You managed to elbow him in the back and he stumbled forward into Quackity, the man made a grunting sound before shoving Tubbo off of him and into the snow. Fundy moved next and managed to land a hit on the side of your arm, you hissed loudly glaring daggers at the fox. His ears pressed against his head and he let out a small whimper, “sorry!”

    “Don’t apologize to her!” Quackity groaned, “You guys are the worst gang ever.” He slapped his forehead as you readjusted your posture, “I have to do everything myself.” Quackity snarled charging at you again you sidestepped out of the way. As he stumbled trying to regain himself he knocked over the honey pots and they shattered against the ground. You swung your ax and managed to land a hit on him in the back of the legs, he let out a strangled yelp and fell on his face into the snow like Tubbo had done earlier. Yanking out the ax out of the leader of the gang blood splattered all over the ground and stained the snow. Little red beads dripped off the ax as you held it by your side, the man only let out another scream as it was torn out of him. 

    “Back. Off.” You repeated again baring your teeth with a hiss, “Turn around and go back to L’manburg and I won’t kill you. Got it.”  The ax was pointed at all of them, you saw the half enderman nod vigorously, 

    “Yes ma’am.” He nodded rapidly grabbing Tubbo and Fundy by the arm and pulled them back, the three of them watched as Quackity snarled and backed up to join them. You watched them cower and you dropped your ax on the ground so you could press the palm of your hand into the wound on your arm. You quickly turned and ran back into your home to collect bandages and fix yourself up, blood speckled the floor as you made your way into the bathroom. You tore off your overalls and shirt, washing out the wound before wrapping your arm in bandages. You didn’t know how long you stood there in front of the mirror but you looked worse for wear. 

Technoblade was going to lose his shit.

---

All Technoblade could think about on their way back to his retirement home, was you. He could only put up with Tommy for so many hours until he needed to talk to literally anyone else. He was ready to get your relaxing date night underway; he could already feel your fingers running through his hair braiding his as you went. He hummed fondly listening as the voices called him simp repeatedly, he didn’t mind this time considering he was when it came to you. 

    “That’s still cringe chat.” He murmured to himself as Tommy continued to scream about something in the background, “Yeah, yeah I love her.” He heard the chat flip their shit and he fondly chuckled, intermixed with their happy cries there was a distinct sound of ‘E’ as well as ‘nerd.’ He almost didn’t hear Tommy’s worried shouting. He frowned and rolled his eyes back into his skull, 

    “What Tommy?” 

    “Technoblade! Technoblade!” The teen bumped back into him, Technoblade grunted and looked down at him. He followed Tommy’s eyes and spotted the blood littered snow outside his house. Technoblade paused and his vision went red around the edges, his eyes stayed trained on the bloodstains as the voices began to roar within his skull. His head shot up and he saw the honey box spilled over on the ground, glass littered the snow, your hat hanging loosely on Carl’s old stable. 

     “T-Technoblade.” Tommy stuttered again looking up at the pig-man, seeing how glazed over his eyes looked. He swore steam was coming out of Technoblade’s nose and his hand drew out his pickaxe gripping it so tight his knuckles turned white. He felt his tusks grow in size and his face began to shift into his pig form. Tommy’s voice was drowned out by the flood that was the voices in his head: 

‘SHE’S GONE. THEY HAVE HER. KILL THEM ALL. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD. WE DEMAND BLOOD. E. SAVE HER. YOU’RE A FAILURE. YOU DIDN’T PROTECT HER. SLAUGHTER ALL OF THEM. SHE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. SHE NEVER HURT ANYBODY. YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.’ 

Technoblade took a step forward to which Tommy rapidly backed up in response. He’s never seen Techno this gone before, oh shit he has it bad for (Y/N). However, Tommy didn’t make a move to stop Technoblade; he didn’t want him to release that rage on him. Technoblade walked into the house, stepping on his glasses that fell off his face. He threw his door open with a loud slam, he needed potions and he needed a new sword. 

Whoever did this all their cannon lives were gone he’d make it long and torturous.

A soft voice broke him out of his stupor his entire body went rigid. 

    “Bubs…” He slowly turned around and came face to face with you, you looked so small, so delicate standing in the doorway. You were wearing your pajamas, soft blue with little sheep all over them. His ears twitched and his shoulders softened considerably seeing you standing safe in the doorway, however, he tensed again the minute he saw the bandages tied around your arm. Blood leaking through them, he growled eyes locking in on the spot as you made soft shushing sounds at him. 

‘SHE’S HURT. SHE’S ALIVE THOUGH. BUT SHE’S HURT, THEY NEED TO PAY. ATONE FOR WHAT THEY DID TO HER. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD. SPILL THEIR BLOOD THEN MAKE OUT WITH HER. SHE’LL LOVE YOU MORE IF YOU DO. BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD.’

Technoblade jumped feeling her hand caress his cheek, “Bubs it’s alright I’m okay.” Your voice was smooth and soothing, his eyes dilated as you spoke to him. His face shifting back to normal as he breathed heavily through his nose, “See?” You brought his head down to rest against your chest, it looked uncomfortable the way that he was bending. However, he could feel your heart beating in your chest, he made a soft whimper and grabbed onto your shoulders his pink hair tickled your chin. You brought your hands up to run his fingers through his hair as he finally calmed down enough to ignore the voices for the time being. Right now they were just commenting on how nice and warm her hands were anyway.

    “What happened to you? There was blood everywhere I was so scared.” His voice broke a little bit as he pulled away from you. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest Technoblade had never looked so broken. 

    “The butcher squad came and attacked me. They wanted to use me to get to you but I fought them off just like you taught me.” You couldn’t help but smile proudly at him and he let out a disbelieving laugh. His hands moved from your shoulders to your back as he cradled you gently in his arms, you both stood there rocking back and forth together until Technoblade was satisfied. 

    “That’s my girl.” He finally murmured backing away from you, you flushed at the compliment. Whenever he called you that it made you flush all over, you let out a loud flustered whine and whacked him on the chest. Technoblade laughed at your flustered expression, it was a rare moment the tables were flipped like this and Technoblade was going to take full advantage of the situation. “Princess what’s with that look? Am I, thee Technoblade, making you flustered? I know I’m a lot to handle, I beat Dream once, I never die, I’m not homeless. Guess what?” 

    “What?” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as he circles you eyeing you up and down. 

    “I’m single.” 

    “Oh really?” You cocked an eyebrow, “I thought you had a girlfriend.” You twirled your hair around your fingers and you felt his strong hands rest on your waist. 

    “Hm I don’t think so. You might need to refresh my memory,” Technoblade mused kissing your neck tenderly. 

    “Well she’s stunningly gorgeous, and tough as nails,” Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned back against him. “She absolutely adores you and how protective you are of her, and how much of a gentle giant you are.” He made a noise of protest and rested his chin on the top of your head. You could tell he was pouting at you, 

    “See, not only is that super cringe but also factually incorrect. I am not a gentle giant, I just committed vast sums of minor terrorism and I also kill orphans so what would my girlfreind say to that huh?” He huffed clicking his tongue distastefully. 

    “She would say that you’re right but also she sees the way you take care of Carl, and how you put up with Tommy. You’re totally brothers. That makes you at least a little bit soft” 

    “Not brothers and I don’t like him.” 

    “Right sure,” You giggled a little and kissed his chin lightly. 

Technoblade let out an indignant sound before muttering, “Oh we should probably tell Tommy you aren’t kidnapped. Also discuss what to do about L’manburg now that they know you exist.” You blocked out that last part and made a beeline outside to find Tommy. The teenager in question was fumbling with his hands over by his cobblestone tower, you ran over to him and engulfed him in a hug. 

    “(Y/N)!” He shouted letting out a disbelieving laugh hugging you back with a childish smile. “You’re okay! Holy fuck I totally thought you were dead and shit! Technoblade was going fucking apeshit! His face went all pig like n’ shit totally thought he was gonna kill everyone for you! Not that I was worried.” He added quickly shoving you away crossing his arms. 

    “Of course you weren’t THE Tommy is never worried.” 

    “Yeah exactly Miss Blade you get me.” You smiled fondly at him and you ruffled his hair and he shouted at you to stop. You did so sensing Technoblade approach the both of you, Techno interlocked your hand with his own and squeezed it tightly. “You chill now Big T?” 

    “I’m always chill Tommy. Only nerds aren’t chill.” He mused with a scoff, “Hence why I always call you a nerd.” 

    “WHAT THE FUCK TECHNOBLADE! I AM ALWAYS CHILL! I’M THE CHILLEST MAN ALIVE I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW!” 

    “Stop shouting,” Technoblade groaned burying his face in your hair as you laughed fondly at their antics. Although L’manburg knew about your existence now, and although you knew Dream probably wasn’t too far behind in learning that knowledge either, you felt everything was going to be okay. 

All you needed was each other, Technoblde, Tommy, Phil and you. Together you four were gonna do great things, you just knew it.

~~~

I do plan on making another part because people seem to be enjoying this story a lot more than I originally thought when I first posted it. Which is amazing thank you for all the love and support! New stuff is also in the works, thanks again for reading and enjoying! Stay safe guys! 🥰✨

[doodler-jpeg]

Life [Wilbur Soot/Fundy]

BOOOM HI HELLO HOW ARE YOU UH UM SO I WAS INSPIRED WHILE I WAS BORED AND THEN THIS IS HOW THIS ONESHOT CAME TO BE. ITS NOT GOOD, BUT ITS DECENT. You’re gonna be taking Sally’s place so, uh, I’m sorry, Sally, you’re just another salmon. Still love you though  THIS TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE DEAR GOD ITS BEEN IN THE WORKS FOR LIKE A MONTH LMAO

ALSO, KEEP IN MIND THIS IS C!WILBUR/SMP!WILBUR

⚠️CUSSING, AFAB READER, PREGNANCY, THIS IS A REALLY LONG ONE SHOT OH MY GOD, PLATONIC FUNDY RELATIONSHIP SO YEAH⚠️

Pronouns: she/her or they/them [you’re referred to as wife, mom,, that stuff, but you can change those if you want]

You hummed as you strained out your clothing beside the river near your home. A smile graced your face, [Eye Colour] eyes glinting happily in the warm sunlight of that fine summer day. Autumn would soon turn the land into a seemingly barren wasteland, though, so you decided to savor every last bit of happiness the hot days brought you. 

Hanging the large amount of clothing upon thin clothing lines, you dumped out your bucket and made sure nothing got in the lake. Walking back inside of your home, you set the buckets in the corner of the cozy cottage and walked back outside. Your brown boots thudded quietly against the cobblestone path that lead into the woods around your home that would eventually be covered in snow.

A sudden childish giggle made you turn to the fields that were a ways away from your house, right in front of the sparsely scattered trees to the right of your little house. You furrowed your brows in confusion as a blur of yellow, white, and red rushed over to you.

“Hello there.” You couldn’t help but stare as the child looked up at you silently. “What are you doing here, little one?” He only blushed, his face flushing a vivid red before he ran off. You shrugged and continued your trek into the forest.

//

You watched as flakes of snow fell delicately onto the muted green coloured grass, bundled tightly in a burrito of quilts that you and your mother has made together. You shuffled slightly from your position on your warm bed, closing your eyes as you waited for sleep to consume you.

It seemed life had other plans, though, as a faint light came toward your home, edging closer and closer until you could make out a figure, their clothing a great contrast to the paw snow. They were shivering visibly, clutching their arms as their lantern shook in their hand.

You frowned as you peeled your blankets off of you, pulling your boots on quickly. Grabbing a lantern cage, you lit the candle inside of it and hurried outside, feeling nervous as the figure hurried over to you.

Soon enough, they were standing in front of you, a miserable look on their face, their eyes red and puffy as their teeth chattered together.

“Come inside,” you didn’t care for introductions or your safety. This person seemed nice. “I’ll start a fire. Uh- there should be a few blankets on the sofa. Would you like anything to drink? Warm milk, tea? I’m not gonna offer coffee because it’s late, so I’m sorry about that.”

“Just water, please,” they croaked out. “I’m sorry for the intrusion. I was headed off in search of territory to claim. Turns out I chose the wrong day. God, it’s cold.” You let out a quiet laugh as you carefully tossed some wood into your fireplace, lighting the material on fire. Almost immediately, the flames grew and you sat up, placing your flint and steel on the fireplace mantle.

“I’ll go get you your water. Go warm up.” You urged before you walked into the kitchen to get the brunet some water.

//

““And then Tommy ran off!” Wilbur howled with laughter as he told the story of how he managed to lose his father in the forest close to his family home. ““Phil was looking for us for hours!” You smiled at the story as you carefully sewed up your friend’s heavy coat, making sure the patches were relatively the same colour as the rest of the jacket.

“You never really tell me about your family, so why are you telling stories now?” You commented, threading the needle in your hand through the fabric and back out of it, pulling the thread tightly. You snipped it with your scissors, placing the needle down to look for any other holes as Wilbur flushed a bright red.

“W-well— one day, I want you to meet my family, so- this sounds so fucking stupid. Never mind, forget about it.” He covered his face in his hands as you bummed, picking up a patch and laying it out on the brown fabric.

“What you’re saying is that you would introduce me to your family because you like me that much, huh?” No answer came from Wilbur, though he did let out a flustered groan as you chortled.

//

You placed a kiss upon your new boyfriend’s cheek, causing the brunet to laugh as he shrunk away from your lips

“Stop it,” you only grinned at the man, kissing various areas of his face in retaliation. Wilbur laughed harder, pushing you away gently as his face scrunched. ““It tickles!”

You grabbed his face in your hands and he looked into your eyes for a moment before you began attacking his face with kisses. When you pulled back for a break, Wilbur copied your actions from earlier and rubbed his thumb across your cheeks with a smile. He leaned his forehead on yours and let out a breathy sigh, closing his eyes as he basked in the moment.

“I love you so fucking much, [Y/N].”

//

““Dont be scared, darling,” Wilbur mused as he gently rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of your hand, lightly squeezing every few rotations. “Techno’s made sure to keep any weapons away and Tommy might be a little less wreckless. I’ll make sure to tell them during dinner.” You nodded uncertainly, playing nervously with the bracelet Wilbur had made you way back when the two of you first started as friends.

Wilbur rapped his knuckles on the door, his other hand never once letting go of yours as the two of you waited. A bit of shouting was heard through the door, slightly muffled, though it was evident that it was coming closer.

The door was flung open by a blond boy, his blue eyes shooting us to meet Wil’s not even a second after he opened the door. A grin was on the boys face as he turned and shouted for Phil [who Wilbur had told you was his father]. Soon enough, a blond man with a bucket hat trodden over, frowning at Tommy.

“Listen, motherfucker, you may be living here, but I’m not gonna fucking let you live if you keep fuckin shoutin.” You froze nervously and glanced over at your boyfriend. He just sent a small, awkward smile onto reassure you before he turned to look down at the two.

“Are you really gonna argue in front of my wife?” Wilbur piped in, feeling himself become giddy as Tommy and Phil shot their heads over to look at you.

“You brought a girl over?!” Tommy yelled in surprise as he stumbled back, eyes wide as he observed your movements skeptically.

“Wil? Can you come over here real quick? I just need to talk to you.” Phil forced a smile as he grabbed the taller man’s ear and yoinked him over to a different room, leaving Tommy and you alone.

“Hi,” you smiled nervously, raising a hand in a half assed wave.

“Do you happen to be American?” The blond asked, leaning his face over to stare at you.

“I mean- I’m a water nymph. I don’t really know if that counts because we usually just have different accents, but we never take into account where anyone’s from.” You laughed, scratching your cheek.

“Well where are you from?” Tommy urged, crossing his arms.

“To be specific, I came from the North Sea right by the Netherlands. I don’t really think that’s important though.” You shrugged.

“So you’re Dutch? Speak it.”

“Im not necessarily Dutch, I was just born in the North Sea, Tommy- I think you’re a Tommy. You seem like a Tommy.” You cleared up, ““The only reason I learned English was to communicate with certain humans.”

“Okay.” The boy sighed, shoulders slumping forward as you let out an amused chortle, “I’ll leave you alone. For now.” Tommy backed up, turning into a room while a big, burly pig person ducked under the doorway, a large sword in hand and an uninterested expression on his face. As he turned to the door, he spotted you and his eyes widened momentarily before going back to their half lidded position.

“Who’re you? Phil didn’t- oh. Oh, today was that day. Oh my god, how could I forget it?” The hybrid smacked his forehead harshly, ““I’m so sorry.”

You laughed, waving your hand dismissively as the pig moved to the side to let you in. You carefully stepped into the warm house and the tall hybrid closed the door behind you.

“Dinner’s nearly done, so you can go sit down in the living room. If you need anything, Phil has ears all over the place. Just look at those crows.” Techno motioned over to the few crows that perched themselves on the window, letting out quiet caws. You waved at the birds and they flapped their wings in response.

“They seem nice.”

//

You sat next to your husband, hand intertwined with his as Phil smiled over at the two of you.

“So, anything new happening with you two?” The blond man inquired, placing his hands on the table. 

““I mean,” Wilbur laughed, turning over to look at you. “Would you like to tell them, dear?” You nodded, a grin on your face as you sat as straight as you could.

“I’m pregnant,” you said, your voice surprisingly calm. Tommy let out a shocked ‘‘what the fuck??’, while Techno choked on his food, slamming a fist onto his chest.

Phil was quiet, eyes wide in shock as he took in the information.

“Pregnant? With Wilbur’s kid?” You nodded, swinging Wilbur’s hand as Tommy cheered.

“Im gonna be a fuckin uncle! Yeah! I’ll be the best damn uncle ever!” He cackled, leaning back as Techno snorted.

““Can I teach them PvP?” You and your husband glanced over at each other before shaking your head.

“Maybe when they’re old enough to know what they’re doing.���

//

““Hello, my precious baby,” you cooed gently, holding the newborn as they let out a quiet sigh. ““My baby. You look just like your father.” A warm but tired smile was on your face as your baby opened their eyes, brown meeting [Eye Colour].

“Love, is the baby okay? Is she doing alright?” Wilbur called nervously through the door, to which you laughed.

“Yes, they’re doing great,” placing a gentle kiss on the baby’s nose, they brought a hand up and lightly tapped their nose.

//

““Fundy! Come here!” You cheered, reaching your arms out to the toddler. They giggled, waddling over to you. Their scab covered knees were littered with bandages and the red overalls they wore were much unlike what Wilburs would have wanted your child to wear, but it was your kid! They deserved the best!

““My precious baby,” you placed a kiss on their cheek, causing the brown haired child to giggle and wipe the kiss from their cheek. You grinned, littering their face in kisses as they squirmed, ““My little champion!”

“Yah! Cham-champion!” They babbled, bringing up a finger to chew on as you set them down and smoothed out your dress. 

““Alright, sweetheart, papa will be here soon, so make sure to tell him what you want to tell him, alright?” Your boy nodded, a goofy grin on his face as he reached over to one of the toys you had brought.

//

You cradled your son’s head as he sobbed, shaking his head in denial as to what had just happened.

“He-he’s gone, mama!” He choked out, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His tears stained your shirt, though the feeling didn’t bother you as you rocked your son back and forth, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Fundy, it’s okay,” you cooed, ““He doesn’t have to live with all the mistakes he made in the past anymore. Who knows, maybe he’ll come back?” 

““But what if he doesn’t? That was his last life and- and it’s gone! My dad’s gone!” Letting out a pained wail, he continued to sob. And you let him.

He had gone through so much.

//

““Who the hell are you and what are you doing around my son?” You sneered, standing in front of your son as the transparent figure stared at you curiously.

“You don’t remember me?” They asked, voice echoing as they tilted your head. “I- [Y/N], it’s me! Your husband! I- I am your husband, right?”

“My husband didn’t push away his son and focus on a failed country more than his own fucking family.” You loaded your crossbow, aiming it at the ghost. ““You didn’t come to his birthday parties, didn’t get him anything, you barely paid attention to him when your country was in the spotlight! You’re no husband to me.”

“Mama-” Fundy gulped nervously, ““Mama, please.”

“You know what, whoever the fuck you are? You’re no damn husband to me and you never will be. Now leave me and my son alone, for fuck’s sake.”

The ghost was silent as you turned, leading the man beside you toward the house at the top of the hill, though a small smile made its way onto his face.

“She’s the one I married?” He murmured, moving his hand to where his heart was, “Was she really the love of my life?”

[moralesispunk]

How they react when you cry at a TV show/ Movie

For: Frankie Morales, Din Djarin, Marcus Moreno, Pero Tovar, Marcus Pike, Agent Whiskey, Dave York and Oberyn Martell

x Gn Reader (Pero x afab reader)

Summary: how the Pedro boys would react when you get upset watching your favourite TV show or movie (this may or may not be inspired after I watched the Flight episode of Greys)

Warnings: reader upset over their favourite character death/ one mention or pregnancy with Pero

Frankie

You had finally convinced Frankie to watch your favourite show with you, starting from the beginning again. You had only made it a few seasons in before starting again with Frankie so when one of your favourite characters died it was your first time watching this part. He was so engrossed in what was going on that he didn’t realise you had been crying until you were gasping for air and shaking next to him. At first he panicked thinking something had happened to you.

“Whats wrong, baby?” he turned to face you.

When you couldn’t talk through the tears but waved towards the TV he realised you were crying at the show and so he pulled you into his side, cradling your head and shoulders as he gently rocked and hushed you. He did have to bite back a smile, knowing he would definitely tease you later about this.

“It’s okay, let it out.”

When you tried to say you were sorry through the tears, that you were being silly and it was just a show he told you that you weren’t being silly at all and asked if you wanted to put on an episode of something funnier before bed. He gently held you against his side until the sniffling stopped, then he started to tickle your side to really make sure the tears stayed away.  

Din

The long journeys through hyperspace could be boring sometimes and so whenever you went into the bunk to relax you would put on an old show on your holo projector. Once Din had the ship settled in hyperspace, he climbed down the ladder to check on you and the kid. When the bunk door opened he saw the kid happily asleep in his hammock and then you curled up in the corner with a hand over your mouth trying to keep your tears in. He panicked thinking you had been hurt the last time you were off the ship and didn’t tell him but as soon as he seen you watching the show you had told him about he put his hand on his hip and beckoned you out the bunk. 

“I thought you were hurt,” he said, “come on, lets not wake the kid up.” 

He helped you up the ladder but as soon as you went to sit in your seat he gently gripped your arm to stop you, moving your bodies so he was on his seat and you were lying across his lap, curled into his chest. He let you mope around for a while, gently holding you against his chest, before distracting you as he spoke about the next planet you were going to.

Marcus M

You felt Missy was now old enough to watch one of your favourite shows with you and so started from the beginning for the third time to watch together. You knew one of the saddest episodes were coming but thought since this would be the third time watching it you would be fine. You were wrong. Missy was a little upset but no where near you so you managed to hold in the tears as you walked out her room and climbed into bed with Marcus. You let the tears flow and he chuckled quietly, putting down his book and taking off his glasses as he pulled you onto his chest. 

“Oh honey, still as sad as the first time?” he rubbed your back. 

“Sadder! How can it get sadder every time?” you cried, your tears now leaving a wet patch on his grey t-shirt, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, it is a sad episode. Remember I cried when I watched it too!”

“Oh yeah, you cried like a baby,” you laughed.

The both of you stayed curled up like that as he put on a funnier TV show for you both to have on in the background as you laughed at his reaction when he first watched the show.

Pero

Pero had never been to see a play before; mercenaries do not have that much downtime. Recently Pero decided to “hang up the sword” and take over the Blacksmith shop since he did not want to leave his wife for prolonged periods of times, especially since you were not carrying his child. As soon as you said you had to visit the nearby town for materials for your seamstress shop, he had the horse and cart packed for the journey. It was a short journey and easy enough to collect all the materials you needed. On the walk back to the cart, Pero saw you watch the people fill into the theatre to watch a play.

“Do you want to go watch as well, mi amor?”

“Its okay Pero, I know it is not how you would wish to spend your afternoon.”

“I wish to spend my afternoon with you, that is all,” Pero took your hand and walked you towards the theatre.

You hadn’t been to see a play since before you met Pero and were happy to be back in the excited atmosphere. It was a play you had never seen before, one that had you in tears by the end. Pero hadn’t noticed, his eyes half shut with sleep, until the play ended and he turned to face you. Your face was tear stained and eyes puffy.

“Mi amor?”

“It’s fine Pero, hormones,” you tried to laugh it off but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He gently took your hand, placing a kiss to the back of your knuckles and helping you out of the seat, wrapping an arm around your waist in an unusual public display of affection as he walked you back to the cart. He let you sleep against his shoulder the whole way home, tired from tears and carrying his child, pressing kisses to your head and squeezing your leg every so often.

Marcus P

This man will be crying with you. With your work lives quite hectic for now, the both of you decided to find a TV show to watch together when you got home to spend some time together after work, curled up on the couch with a takeaway. This night you watched a particularly sad episode as you lay between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. You tried to hide your tears, facing forwards and letting them run down your face, but when you heard Marcus sniffle from behind you decided to turn and face him. The both of you laughed hard at how puffy each others eyes were, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulled you tighter against him. 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one crying,” he spoke into your neck, his voice a little muffled.

“Me too,” you laughed, the tears still falling down your face.

“I think we should put something a little more lighthearted than this now, hm?”

“I think thats a good idea,” you laughed, turning your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

Whiskey

When Jack got home from his mission the last thing he expected was you curled up on the couch with a box of tissues and crying at the TV. 

“Sweetheart, whats wrong?” he walked over to you, placing his hat on the rack and sitting by your side.

“This show! Why do they make it so sad?”

“Well, I could ask why you keep watching it if it makes you this sad?” he teased.

When he saw that your lips didn’t move from their pout, he gently pulled you onto his lap, your legs straddling his waist as you pressed into his neck. He kissed down your neck until your breathing calmed down a little and he finally pulled you back to look at him.

“How ‘bout you let me make you forget all about that show, hm?”

Your face finally cracked into a smile, leaning forward and taking lips in yours. After a minute of breathless kissing he stood up and wrapped your legs around his waist, walking towards the bedroom.

“Hell, why don’t we see if ol’ Jack can make you forget your own name...”

Dave 

When Dave came home from work and noticed the light was still on in the living room he knew you would be watching your favourite show because you preferred watching it on the big TV. What he didn’t expect was to find you hysterically crying on the couch. He dropped his briefcase, quickly by your side and holding your face.

“What happened?”

“They-they-”

“Shhh, its okay deep breaths you can tell me,” he rubbed his thumbs back and forth over your cheeks.

“They killed him off!”

“Who did?”

“The show! They just- they just killed him off!”

“I thought you were hurt!” Dave’s suddenly worried face was covered in a grin as he let his back fall against the couch.

His hand came up to his chest, literally breathing out a sigh of relief as he laughed.

“Its not funny,” you sighed, letting yourself fall back next to him.

“Oh, honey,” he moved his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side and rubbing circles on your bare shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

He reached for the remote, clicking off the paused show you had been watching and putting something funnier on the TV as he let you curl up into his side, chuckling every so often but also pressing kisses into the top of your head.

Oberyn

He hadn’t expected you to cry so much at the play, almost regretting bringing you as he watched you wipe away the tears that were flowing down your cheeks. You turned to him, cheeks red and slightly embarrassed as you huffed a laugh. Oberyn reached out and wiped some of the tears with his hand before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap. 

“It’s okay, my love, I’ve got you,” he whispered into your ear.

He sat back in his chair more comfortably, letting you curl into his chest as he rubbed your back while you watched the rest of the play.

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa @evyiione

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

re: your last ask about the time travel shenanigans—holy fuck yes please more of this. like, not only is it funny as hell, which i appreciate, but it's also a. more c!thomas and b. points to just how interestingly both the plot and characters of this series have grown over the years and i am ALL for it

"Janus!" is the first thing Thomas exclaims when he sees the Side Formerly Known Exclusively As Deceit rise up where Logan would usually stand. Which just might be a mistake, if Janus’s expression is anything to go by.

Okay, in Thomas's defence -

This is a really, really weird day, even by his standards. Because, like, Logan's currently standing in front of the stairs, and that's not where Logan's supposed to be, and his shirt and tie are all wrong. And had had been grinning. Openly. He had been openly grinning when Thomas had first woken up and looked in his wardrobe and realized that his favorite t-shirt apparently doesn't exist anymore and all his clothes are a half-size smaller than he's used to but also they still fit and - okay, no, back to Logan. He'd gone downstairs and tripped over a chair that wasn't supposed to be there and called out Logic. And he'd been about to ask him what's going on and why everything feels so off and also why Logan's standing in Virgil's usual spot instead of over to the right of the stairs. But then he'd noticed all the aforementioned Very Weird Clothing Things. And he'd stopped and said, "Uh, Logan?" and Logan's grin had dropped and he'd stared at Thomas for a full ten seconds then whispered, "what the fuck," with great emotion.

And then Patton had shown up with a ridiculous amount of pun-riddled cheerfulness that Thomas had been able to clock as sixty-percent fake within about half a second. And his clothes had been all wrong, too, and after a lot of confused, borderline-incomprehensible yelling at each other, Roman had showed up and added to the chaos.

"I am scared and confused and on the verge of completely losing it!" Thomas had declared at some point, which had been the cue for an ominous music sting somewhere to Thomas's right that made everybody jolt in terrified unison.

"Did somebody say scared and confused and on the verge of completely losing it?"

"Virgil, thank god!" Thomas had practically yelled, and just about thrown himself across the room to get to him - before pausing midway and allowing his brain to process... wrong hoodie. Wrong amount of eyeshadow. "Wait. No, hang on, is this - "

"FUCKING WHO," Virgil shrieked, leaping backwards half a flight of stairs, which had led to another round of confused yelling, with Thomas trying to assure them all that he's fine he hasn't had some sort of strange head injury or whatever, he's just really happy to see Virgil and no of course that's not weird, what do you mean who's Virgil, that's Virgil right over there, Roman please put down that sword things are already out of hand -

And at some point Thomas had got it into his head that the most reasonable course of events was to summon the one person who always seems to know everything that everybody else doesn't, which brings everything up to speed, more or less. Roman had gone, "Thomas, what are you doing," and Thomas, feeling slightly manic at this point, had said, "I'm trying to summon a demon, obviously," because the best way to get hold of a certain someone probably is blatant lying, and boom, instant Janus.

"Jeee-sus Christ on a cookie-shaped canoe, what is he doing here?!"

"Janus!"

So, Janus pops up, he looks literally the same as he always has (except maybe with shorter hair? Wait, they all have shorter hair, including Thomas, wait a second -) with his half-snake-face and his hat and gloves that cosy-looking capelet of his. And although his expression reflects faint bewilderment and that very particular 'wait, what' emotion that results in being pulled abruptly away from something you were busy with, he looks so normal that Thomas thinks for a moment he might be the only sane person left.

But then Janus makes a series of start-and-stop noises of incomprehension, and gestures wildly towards Virgil, who's crouched midway up on the stairs behind Logan, looking like a cornered wild animal, and snaps, "Why for the love of everything that's holy would you tell him my name?"

"You think this is me?" Virgil retorts, hands going up to grab desperately at the bars lining the side of the staircase. "I don't understand anything that's going on! He somehow knows my name! He's - he's being nice to me!"

It suddenly occurs to Thomas that this might just possibly be a time travel sort of thing. It would explain the clothes shift. And the altered layout of his house. And the fact that when he'd checked his phone this morning it had told him it was 2016, and also it hadn't been his phone, it had been the one he'd broken a few years ago in a tragic piano-moving-related accident.

...Okay, yeah, this is absolutely a time travel thing.

"Is somebody going to explain why Thomas ruined all of our heartfelt name reveal moments in one fell swoop?" Roman demands. "I thought we agreed we were going to do them gradually and draw them out as long as possible for dramatic effect!"

"I agreed to none of that," Virgil snaps from his position halfway up the stairs.

"Yes," says Logan, "yes, I think we all would like to know what's going on. Thomas? What's going on?"

"Uh - " Thomas, who has just come to a rather startling realization about time travel and also about how shitty his Sides' taste in costumes were pre-wardrobe change, doesn't really have a prepared answer for this. "I have... I am - I just - "

Thomas struggles for words. Really struggles. And everyone's just standing there, watching him with expressions that range from terror to confusion to suspicion, and they all look so weirdly young in a way that's hard to pin down. It's the clothes. It's probably the clothes, or maybe it's the way they hold themselves. Roman, carelessly confident, without a doubt in the world. Patton, still wearing a fixed dad-grin, politely baffled and looking back and forth. Logan, who hasn't been systematically beaten down and pushed back over the course of many, many years. Virgil, who's basically just a ball of grey-and-black anger and acerbic anger at this point. Janus, who's... Janus. Who's looking at him in a way that Janus has never looked at him before.

And Remus is probably lurking somewhere in the back of his mind, too, doing whatever Remus does, and - would Remus be any different now, four years prior? Thomas hadn't had any significant problems with intrusive thoughts, not back then... or, well, back now. Maybe he's calmer, maybe Thomas could actually talk with him. Try to work something out, try to understand.

But wait, he's still got to give the Sides right here and right now an answer.

Hm.

...Thomas has been through a lot in the past four years. Not, like, fantasy protagonist a lot, but more like a extended psychological journey of self-discovery and mental health crises. Now, he wouldn't trade any of this for the world, because he's learned a hell of a lot about himself in the process - but also? The Sides have put him through a lot of horrifying realization-type things.

Which is why he absolutely one hundred percent deserves to do what he's about to do next.

"I," says Thomas, with an extraordinary amount of confidence and self-assuredness, "am psychic."

And the dead silence holds. Now even Patton is staring at him in disbelief. Janus has graduated into outright horror, his face twisted up into a oh god no I am somehow responsible for letting him delude himself this far expression.

"Thomas!" Roman gasps, almost instantly lighting up with genuine enthusiasm. "Oh, Thomas, I'm so proud, we've been working on this for years. Tell me, does this extend to telekinesis, or just somehow knowing all our names and nothing else?"

"What?" Janus says. "What - no. No, you can't seriously be going along with this - what? That... what? That doesn't even make any sense?" He turns wildly from left to right, and - okay, it's very enjoyable to see him out of his depth, to be perfectly honest. Thomas likes Janus a lot, knows he has his best interests at heart, but the whole courtroom thing had been a major dick move. This is satisfying. "Are any of you getting this? Does anyone here understand what's going on?"

"I'm psychic," Thomas repeats doggedly. "I acquired magical psychic powers and now I know all of your names and tragic backstories. Surprise! I unlocked my full potential and the ninety-percent of my brain power that I wasn't using."

"That's - that's a widely-perpetuated and wildly incorrect myth," Logan says weakly.

"Nope. Turns out it's true, and I was only using ten percent of it, and now that I've gone full big-brain, I know that Patton's repressing all his bad feelings because he doesn't want to bother anyone with them, Virgil acts all scary and menacing because he thinks it's the only way that I'll ever listen to him, and Janus is secretly a huge dork with a heart of gold - uh, yellow, I guess."

"How dare you," Janus breathes, looking horrified.

"Wha - " Patton suddenly looks very pale indeed.

"Also, Roman, you're my hero; Logan, please never stop smiling like that ever again, it's literally my favorite thing in the world and if you ever stop being enthusiastic about teaching me things I will cry - and Virgil, I love you."

Virgil lets out a choked little noise like he's just been punched directly in the stomach.

"I love all of you," Thomas adds, an afterthought. "I never say that enough. Janus, that goes for you as well. You're right, I need to take care of myself more."

"I'm - " Janus is still looking around at everyone in complete disbelief, but now his gaze fixes onto Thomas, his eyes wide. "I'm what?"

Thomas is now on a roll. An extremely cathartic sort of roll. "And Remus -"

Everybody immediately panics. Virgil and Logan's hands both immediately leap up to clasp over their mouths, which seems to be a reflexive reaction on Janus's behalf. Patton lets out a deranged-sounding high pitched giggle that edges into genuine hysteria.

"Brother? What brother? I don't know what a brother is!" Roman says loudly. "I've never had a brother in my life! Thomas, your glorious psychic powers are malfunctioning. Have you tried turning them off and turning them on again?"

" - I'm not going to lie and say I love him, but -" Thomas stops abruptly, and staggers  backwards to catch himself on the couch as a thought strikes him out of literally nowhere. "Son of a bitch -"

"Does being psychic make you swear a lot?" Patton asks weakly. "Because, uh. Not sure I like this side of you, kiddo - "

"Logan," says Thomas. "Logan, what's the date today? This is so, so important, what's the date."

"It's... October," Logan says, very slowly. "October twentieth. 2016?"

"Holy shit," Thomas whispers, and then says it louder, "holy shit. Okay, listen. I was going to sort out all of our collective psychological issues in one impressive emotional speedrun, but I've realized we have something much more important to do." He pauses, and takes in a very deep, shuddering breath. "Guys. We can save Vine. Excuse me. I've just realized I’ve got to make a lot of calls."

[lovebugcody]

i can’t draw but i can write, so here is what i have for the mcyt/dream smp fandom. (inspired by a lot of fanart i have seen) 

3k words baby. i was going to do a second half but i’m tired so i’ll write it tomorrow

anyway here is dadza collecting his boys

--

Philza had always known he wanted to be a dad, but with adventures and quests, he hardly had the time. So he made the difficult decision to wait until one day he had the time to properly care for and raise a child (or children) of his own. But circumstances and his own paternal instinct seemed to decide for him when was the perfect time for him to finally become a father. 

The day he found his eldest, he was passing through an abandoned village. They were common in the parts of the world where Philza was known for exploring, which created a sad but beautiful landscape. Philza had always had an appreciation for the forgotten towns, so he made sure if and when he saw them, he travelled through. While he felt a touch of guilt when rummaging through items that were forgotten in a haste and deemed disposable, that never stopped him from opening every house and chest to find goods. There were occasions where he forgot a small home, or didn’t see a chest or two, but that day was not one. Philza was being careful and made sure to open every door. 

A quiet shuffle and the tiniest whimper caught his attention, and he poked his head around the corner. Curled up, as small as he could, was a boy. Dressed in a dirtied, no-longer-yellow sweater, with a holey maroon beanie over long curls. He tried squeezing behind a chest next to him, and Philza could feel his heart break as the small boy started to cry.

“P-please, don’t h-hurt me.” His voice was tiny, broken, and one again Philza felt his chest tighten. This tiny thing couldn’t have been more than 4 or 5, and already looked terrified of the world. Philza quickly hid his sword in his pack, taking off his helmet to reveal his own hat and hair in need of cutting.

“It’s okay, little man. I promise I won’t. My name’s Philza.” He squatted down, and reached a hand out slowly. He quickly retracted it though when he remembered he had an apple in his bag. He swung his pack to be in front of him, unzipping it. “You hungry?” The small boy slowly looked up, wide and teary brown eyes watching as Philza moved to pull a bright red apple out. He nodded rapidly, curls falling out of the front of his beanie into his eyes. The boy crawled over to Philza, then sat cross-legged in front of him, patiently waiting for the apple. Philza let out a soft laugh, before handing him the apple. 

“Thank you, Philza.” The words were muffled by the apple already in his mouth. Philza laughed again before dropping his own butt onto the ground, to mirror the boy.

“What’s your name, little man?” Philza had his own apple in hand, moving to bite into it.

“Wilbur.” The young boy looked proud as he said his name, promptly taking another bite of the apple. 

“Well then, Wilbur,” the decision was made almost immediately, as soon as he saw the young boy really, “would you like to come adventure with me?” Wilbur visibly sat up straighter, excitement in his eyes. 

“Hell yeah!” Apple was spat out as Wilbur scrambled to his feet in excitement.

It only took three months for Wilbur to start calling Phil “dad”.

---

His second child was under far more surprising and saddening circumstances.

An seven-year-old Wilbur bounced along in front of Philza, swinging his iron sword pretending to be defeating zombies. As he swung his sword, he once again recounted how he battled three zombies in the cave earlier that day.

“I know, Will. They were no match for you!” Philza laughed as he spoke, watching with unmatched joy and pride for his son. 

“I’m the best monster fighter, dad!” Sword held above his hair, Wilbur spun to look at Philza. “I can even help you fight some zombie pig guys in the nether next time!”

“Pigmen, Will.” Wilbur rolled his eyes at the correction. “And we’ll see.” Punching their air and continuing to bounce forward, Wilbur didn’t notice the ruined step and tripped over it. Immediately, Philza rushed forward to catch his son. 

A quiet pig-like snort caught their attention, and Philza, hand still holding Wilbur’s arm where he caught him, whipped his head around, other hand reaching for his sword. He had expected to see a pigman - maybe even a zombie one - to have somehow made it into the overworld and gotten lost, but instead saw a cardboard box. Scrawled across the front of the box in a dying sharpie was the word “FREAK!”. He pushed Wilbur, who was gripping his sword tightly in both hands, behind him as he took a careful step forward. 

A tiny face popping up, giving both Philza and Wilbur a fright.

“Dad?” Wilbur’s voice was small, giving away his fear despite the confident aura he tried to portray. 

“Stay here, okay?” Philza didn’t give Wilbur a change to reply before he continued to move closer to the box. The small child within the box stood up slowly, his features becoming more clear. The snout and ears were piglin in nature, but other than those and the pink complexion, it was clear to Philza that this was simply a scared child. Much like when he approached Wilbur those years ago, Philza moved slowly, crouching in front of the box and child contained within, peeking inside to see if there was anything else within it.

In the box, being stood on by the child, was a manilla folder. It looked as though at one point it had been official, but had been muddied and chewed on periodically. The small child looked up at Philza with tears in his eyes and hands gripping the side of the cardboard box with white knuckles. Philza noticed that one of his ears was stood up, the other - a yellow cattle-tag with the letters “TB” in faded black written on it was pierced through it - was hanging, exaggerated by the fact that the small boy had his head tilted to that side. 

“Can you pass me that folder, bud?” The boy in the box blinked once before looking down at the folder. He squatted down and his stubby fingers picked up the dirtied paperwork. He stood slowly, then held it out proudly. “Thank you.” Philza smiled softly as he accepted the folder from the tiny boy. He sat in front of the box and carefully read over the words written on the cover. As he sat, Wilbur moved forward and sat next to him, watching the child carefully as he placed his sword next to him. 

The top of the folder read “Experiment #14 [unreadable] -lin and human genetic cross- [unreadable]”, with a large red “failed” stamped across the middle of the entire cover. Philza glanced at the boy sadly. An experiment, a discarded experiment, that was all he was deemed to be. He shook his head in disapproval as he opened the folder. He didn’t want to read the majority of the papers within the folder, but he wanted to at least know how old this boy was and what name he had been given.

Technoblade. It was an odd name, undoubtedly, but if that was the name he was given, who was Philza to argue. He looked at the apparent birthdate, and quickly counted back in his head to calculate his age. 

“Four?” The word was barely a breath, but Philza just could not believe that this tiny boy stranded in a box was only four years old. He had been experimented on, tested, and disposed, marked as a freak and a failure. He slammed the folder closed, turning to Wilbur. “What do you think?” Wilbur blinked, tilting his head. 

“What?” He hadn’t looked away from Technoblade since the boy had poked his head out of the box, but he finally turned to look up at his dad. 

“Think he could be your new brother? Come on adventures with us?” Just like when Philza had asked Wilbur if he himself wanted to travel with him, his whole body lit up with excitement. 

“Really? That would be awesome.” He was bouncing again. Philza breathed a laugh at Wilbur, before turning back to look at Technoblade.

“What do you think, Technoblade?” He tilted his head the other way, glancing between Wilbur and Philza. “Want to come with us?” The tiny boy thought for a second before nodding, holding his hands up to Philza, indicating he wanted to be picked up. Philza happily obliged, moving to his feet and reaching down to the excited boy, who now had a huge smile that showed off tiny tusks growing from his bottom row of teeth. He placed Techno on his hip, offered a hand to Wilbur to help him stand, and the now-trio walked away from the broken cobble stairs. 

As they walked away, Wilbur began to ramble about all the adventures he would have with his new brother, and telling him about all of the adventures past. 

It took Technoblade a month to finally start talking to Philza and Wilbur, and only four more for him to start calling him ‘dad’.

---

Dealing with two teenagers was not something that Philza had ever prepared for. Granted he had not even planned for children, but instead found the two boys that now called him dad. This meant that, of course, he never had to mentally fortify himself for any of what he was dealing with. 

Wilbur and Technoblade were constantly trying to fight mobs, and when there were no mobs, each other. Twelve and fifteen, and so much energy. Although Wilbur was slowly starting to lose that youthful energy that Techno still gripped on to. However, the day they found the third of Philza’s boys, he began to learn that some people are always fueled by a youthful energy.

Just as Philza always passed through villages old and new when he travelled alone, Techno and Wilbur had been taught to develop that same habit. Philza had sent them down the centre of the ruined village, going around the outskirts himself. He figured that while they had been travelling with him for a while, fighting mobs in the overworld and nether alike, it was better to be safe than sorry, and so decided on sending them off alone for the first time through an empty village would be best. 

Philza skirted the village, picking up crops that had grown on their own and checking small buildings the excited boys would have no doubt skipped over. He knew that the two of them together would be looking for a fight, but would also keep each other safe. They had grown very attached to each other in the eight years they had been with Philza, referring to each other as brothers. It always warmed Philza’s heart when they called him ‘dad’ or each other as brother - they had bumped into a young man with a creeper mask on his own adventure a couple of years prior and Wilbur had introduced Techno as his little brother, a memory which still makes Philza smile. 

He had made it to the centre of the village, trailing behind the boys, when he heard a scream. Less of a scream but more a shout of surprise, but Wilbur had an unfortunate voice crack in the middle of the cry and it sounded as if he had let out a short scream. Immediately, Philza sprinted towards the sound of his son’s voice, hoping that both were still together and alive. He skidded around a corner and paused.

The sight in front of him was rather amusing. A small boy with matted blonde hair and a formerly white and red shirt was blindly swinging a stone sword while shouting and swearing, while Techno had his iron sword held in front of him in both hands, and Wilbur had his by his own hanging limply by his side. Both of Philza’s sons were wearing very confused expressions. 

“You aren’t stealing my shit!! Go away!” The small boy pushed the oversized helmet resting on his head back as it had slipped in front of his eyes. “This is my house!” 

“Dude!” Technoblade attempted to calm the shouting child, but the boy was having none of it.

“Don’t ‘dude’ me. Go away!” Though amused, Philza decided it was probably time to step in between the children before someone actually started swinging a sword with the intent to seriously injure the other party. As he walked forward, Techno kept his eyes locked on the blond boy, but Wilbur turned to look at him.

“We didn’t do anything, dad. He just… jumped out at us screaming.” The boy on the steps finally turned to Philza, who was nodding in understanding at what Wilbur said. 

“I know.” He stepped in front of Techno, after pushing his hands down, forcing him to lower the sword. “Hey bud. What’s your name?” The stone sword had finally stopped being wildly swung, but was still pointed (though it was clear that the boy was struggling with the weight of it).

“My name’s Tommy.” He finally gave up on holding up the sword. “What’s it to you old man?” Philza scoffed. This kid was ballsy and loud and needed somewhere to channel his energy. He took another step forward and slowly reached forward. Tommy’s grip on his sword tightened again, but even though he wouldn’t show it, his arms were clearly sore and exhausted from the wild swinging, so the sword remained with it’s tip pressed into the step. Hand on either side of the large helmet engulfing Tommy’s head, Philza lifted it up and tucked it under one arm, ruffling the blond locks with the other hand.

“Well, Tommy, my name is Philza and do you want to fight mobs with us and go adventuring?” Philza didn’t know for sure if this young boy was alone or not, but he was hanging out alone in a village ruin defending a tiny shack, so it was a safe assumption. 

“Dad.” The ‘a’ sound was dragged out in an exaggerated groan from Techno. “Does he have t-” He was cut off but a ‘thwap’ sound that resulted from Wilbur smacking him upside the head. 

“Shut up.” Wilbur hissed, hoping that for once Techno would listen.

“What? The kid tried to slice me!” Philza whipped his head around and glared at the boys, and they both quickly straightened, pretending to do nothing wrong. He turned back to look at the boy who was sticking his tongue out at Techno.

“Tommy?” Just like with Techno and Wilbur, Tommy straightened his posture and pretended to look at his feet. “Are you coming?” The boy held out his sword for Philza to take, which he did, before turning and racing inside. Sounds of rummaging came from behind the door, before Tommy reammerged, a much-too-large backpack strapped on. 

“Let’s do this!” 

In a matter of days, Tommy was calling out ‘dad’ to get Philza’s attention. 

--- (original post that inspired this part) --- 

Campsites had gotten harder to find with three boys. Each had developed their own ideas of “safe”, and none of them wanted to listen to Philza. The only solution was to allow them to take turns. Tommy had decided that forests were best, while Techno and Wilbur at least agreed that underground was safest. Unfortunately for the eldest pair, it was Tommy’s night to decide. So the four of them had to march through a thickly wooded area in search of a clearing for the night. 

“Here!” It was barely a clearing, but it was enough space to pitch tents for the night. Tommy spun in a circle with his arms out wide after dropping his backpack, while Wilbur and Technoblade looked at each other. 

“Alright, you three set up camp, I’ll check the area.” Philza dropped his bag beside Tommy’s and retrieved his sword, bow and quiver already over his shoulder. He knew that the boys would be safe, and trusted them to keep each other safe, so he had already turned his back and was already on the move.

“Don’t forget to call out if you find anything!” Techno’s voice echoed slightly in the empty area, and Philza waved his empty hand above his head, indicating that he heard and would do so. 

Checking every possible hiding spot was important to do during the day, to make sure that there were no mobs during the day when they would burn that would later add to the number of mobs that night. Places like the hollowed out trunks of trees. 

Philza had ducked into each as he moved and only saw the occasional spider, with one exception.

He had reached what he had decided was the last tree he would check, and bent down to duck his head inside, only to be met with a curled up figure with a faded yellow and grey striped sweatshirt. They had their arms wrapped around their knees and there was what looked like dried blood in their matted hair.

“Hey buddy.” The figure looked up, and Philza saw more dried blood on his face and sweatshirt. “Are you okay?” The boy shook his head.

“My dad…” His voice broke at the end, and his eyes began to water.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me.” Philza held out his hand, which the boy cautiously took. “What’s your name?” The young boy wiped his eyes with the end of his oversized sleeve.

“Tubbo.” He snuggled slightly and looked up at Philza with wide eyes. 

“Well, Tubbo,” Philza still hadn’t let go of Tubbo’s hand, noticing that Tubbo simply adjusted his hand in Philza’s to hold it better, “do you want to come eat with my and my sons? I think my youngest is the same age as you.” The small boy wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. “I’m Philza, by the way.”

---

[morihaus]

Betrayal

Waves splash against the rocky shores of Betony as a small ship rows into port. The docks of Whitefort town are quiet in the dying light of the evening, busied only by sailors and dockworkers as they fix ships to the moorings and ferry cargo about, hurrying to get their work over with so they might retire for the night. There are few people, and of them, the lone passenger of the sailboat blends into the crowd, steel boots stepping onto the dock, cowl held close around her head.

She keeps her head down, not attracting any attention as she takes a circuitous path around the shipyard, pausing only to spare a glance over her shoulder every now and then. It's not her first time here, and she knows where she is going- the grand Imperial ship affixed to the far dock lies foreboding in the corner of her vision- but even miles from the mainland of High Rock or Hammerfell, she feels eyes all over her, grasping hands reaching out for her. She's walking into a pair of them right now.

It's with this note of fatalism that she climbs aboard the Imperial galley, its captain waits for her at a table on the deck, seated warmly in her fine Skyrim furs. Lady Brisienna Magnessen smiles cordially, cheeks rosy, but not bothered by the winter chill as her visitor is, letting her fair hair curl down her shoulders without hat or hood.

"Agent Delarda," She greets her with a refined tone, coarse Nordic tongue dipped in honey, smoothed and shaped to suit the needs of an inter-provincial operative. "Please, take a seat. Let's conclude this as quickly as possible."

Against her better judgement, the agent sits down. Her amber eyes, sitting in dark circles, peer out at the Nord from under her hood. "They know." She says flatly, her voice quiet and weak for the first words she's spoken in days. "Gothryd, Eadwyre, Athoriki, Gortwog-" She slings her pack down one shoulder and reaches inside, producing several written correspondences. She sets them on the table in front of her, unsealed, slightly crumpled. She looks down at them now, rather than Brisienna. "Even Mannimarco, and the Underking. They know, and they want it. They're making offers now. I'm not sure how long they'll wait for me to make up my mind."

Brisienna takes a letter into her deft hands, unfurling it and scanning it over.

Arduirel- code name Delarda- lets her hands lie limp on the table, numb with cold and nerves.

After a minute or so, the Lady speaks up. "They're making quite the hefty offers for it."

"You believe them?" Arduirel says.

Brisienna looks half-insulted. "No," She shakes her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if any or all of them were lying. All that gold, those artifacts, nothing but bait."

"Should I assume the Emperor was lying as well?" She says curtly, still not meeting her eye.

Brisienna purses her lips some, but reaches over into her own pack, producing a small jewelry box. She places it on the table, turning it to her fellow agent. "The Warlock's Ring, as promised. Feel free to check. I wouldn't lie to you."

Arduirel's ears burn under her hood at that. Still, she reaches forward, unlatching the tiny chest and taking a peek at the ring inside. Gold-banded, covered in ancient runes, inlaid with a dazzling red gemstone. She closes it, satisfied with its authenticity, more or less. She looks back up at Lady Magnessen, who peers expectantly at the elf.

"The Emperor has been planning this reward for some time, Delarda. Your efforts, both here and in years previous, are greatly appreciated." For a moment Arduirel looks and only sees a mouthpiece, a puppet; she wonders whether Uriel said any such thing, whether these words were really his, or mere lip service from the Nord woman. She's sick to her stomach either way, not helped by the gentle rocking of the boat in the harbor.

"...I'm curious. What would the other rulers have done with... the Totem." She asks, quite aware of the fact she's expected to be taking it out by now. She doesn't want to touch it, to let it be seen by anyone. Her whole body feels wired, jittery, as though the other agent were about to make a desperate lunge for her pack.

It doesn't come to pass, though, Lady Magnessen remains seated, glancing down once again at the letters on the table. "Nothing good." She shuffles them around, laying one on top of the other, leafing through the names on the pages and thinking on what she knows of the Illiac's politics. "No doubt Daggerfall, Wayrest, and Sentinel would use the Numidium in their petty war games. Perhaps they would even realize the extent of its capabilities- they could undermine the whole of the Empire with this power." Arduirel feels a chill as she speaks. She wonders what Brisienna knows about Numidium. How much does the Emperor know about Numidium? The Nord frowns as she continues to speculate. "Orsinium would no doubt crush its age-old enemies, claim all of Wrothgar for the Orcs, maybe beyond. I cannot begin to wonder at what nefarious end the King of Worms has in mind... he claims he wants godhood?"

Arduirel gives a shallow nod.

Brisienna shakes her head. "By the Nine, what a travesty that would be..."

"Could that even work?"

"If what we are led to believe about big Numidium is true, it very well could. It could be as easy as it plucking him from this world and placing him high up in the heavens." There's an attempted humor to what she says, but Arduirel can only fight to keep up a veneer of composure.

"Is that what Tiber Septim did?" She blurts out.

Brisienna gives her a judgemental stare. "Is that... what? What are you talking about, Delarda?"

Arduirel clenches her fist, grinding her teeth together for a moment. "I just mean-" She looks out into the horizon, the now black sky meeting the edge of the water. "He became a Divine. He also used the Numidium. Is that related? Is Mannimarco trying to do what he did?"

Without looking, she feels the icy stare of her superior. She lets out a sigh. "Tiber Septim didn't become Talos through some... automaton. He was always Talos-" She trails off, shaking her head. "We can discuss theology when you're back in Cyrodiil, Delarda. You have the Totem, don't you?"

"Yes." She quickly replies.

"Where is it?"

Arduirel looks back at her. Brisienna's face is creased with irritation- she knows a diversion tactic when she sees it, she's starting to wise up to what's going on here.

"What is the Emperor going to do with it?" Arduirel asks.

Brisienna pauses. Arduirel stares and picks her apart with her eyes, trying to figure out what she knows. "That's none of your concern, agent." She replies with a blunt, forceful tone. "Just know that he's the only one who can be trusted with it. These petty kings will rip each other- and the Empire- apart in their bickering, and those undead sorcerers will only do the same. This thing belongs in the hands of an Emperor, a Septim, not some pack of quarreling insubordinates."

Her words hang in the air, burning against Arduirel's ears like the cold night air. Her hands begin to shiver. "The last Septim who got his hands on it..." She furrows her brow, glaring from under her hood at the Nord. "The Underking, he's Zurin Arctus, Tiber Septim's battlemage. He claims to have made the thing- that the Mantella is his heart, and that Septim used the thing to conquer all of Tamriel, to destroy all his opponents, to replace all royals with those who would swear loyalty to him." Brisienna tries to get a word in, but Arduirel plows on ahead. "And when he disagreed with this use of the Numidium, Septim fought with him, and both he and his creation were destroyed." She produces another letter from her person, one she hadn't intended on sharing. "This says that the Blades have been gathering parts of the Numidium for centuries- what is the meaning of this??? To what end does it serve???"

Brisienna leans in with a dour expression. "You take the word of a rotting, undead wizard over mine? Over the word of the Emperor?"

Arduirel stands up with a start, frost crackles in her palm as she glares down at the Nord, who reaches for her blade. "What is he planning!? Why reassemble it?! Why use it now??"

"Delarda, stand down!" Brisienna barks out the order with her sword leveled in the elf's direction. "Think for a second! If you don't relinquish the Totem, you'll be branded as a traitor to the Empire of Tamriel- you'll have one more agency hunting you down, is that what you want!?"

"I am NOT giving you the Totem! I won't let this happen again!" Before Brisienna can even question her, Arduirel shoots an ice spike into her chest. She staggers back as it pierces a rib, she wheels back her sword-arm before another spike finds its way into the hinge of her elbow, icing the joint over and sinking deep into her tissue. She cries out in pain before Arduirel charges into her, bashing her off the side of the ship with a forceful elbow to her collar.

The Nord falls into the icy water, right arm stiff and inflexible, lungs pierced by a spike through her ribs. She cries out at Arduirel- "YOU CANNOT DO THIS!" But a torrent of frost is already firing down at her, freezing the water she's fighting against, encasing her in a thick sheet of ice. Her body temperature drops rapidly, she trembles and struggles as her muscles grow stiff and weak.

The small block of ice containing her body floats out into sea. The Agent absconds with the Warlock's Ring and the Totem, forcing her way through the confused crowd and boarding someone else's ship, pushing it out to sea with the force of her magic, arrows from the guards loosing in her wake as they piece together that she had something to do with this.

It doesn't matter. The Emperor will not get the Totem. As soon as she's out of sight from the isle, she makes course for the east, for Hammerfell, as a traitor to the Empire. Her true colors are finally revealed. It's exhilarating. It's sickening. It's the only way to avoid another Summurset.

[imaginesbymk]

“Find Me Under The Giant Rabbit.”

Reservoir Dogs/Pulp Fiction One Shot

SUMMARY: I read a Reddit fan theory that Mr. Pink survived, escaped the cops, got arrested and was then put on parole - leaving behind his old life and lying low as a waiter at Jack Rabbit Slims. What happens when you show up to the restaurant one night?

PAIRING: Mr. Pink/Buddy Holly waiter x Reader

TAGS: swearing, smoking + mentions of basically everything that happened in reservoir dogs which is the heist, violence, etc

NON REQUESTED

WORD COUNT: 2,870 (it’s long i’m sorry)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is probably the cheesiest thing i’ve ever written, and it’s nothing tarantino would ever put in his films, also there’s no way PF and RS can legitimately tie in together 100% even though there are some factors to support otherwise, but i wanted to write this and see something lol :( leave a like/reblog + feedback!!!

[gif credit]

YOU put your car in park, shutting off the engine, and observed it from afar. It was one hell of a big restaurant, almost a bit too cartoon-like. There was a giant anthropomorphic rabbit on top, and the lights claiming the name were glowing a bright red and yellow. Mind you, this was in Los Angeles, so who wouldn’t blame you if you took one look at Jack Rabbit Slim’s, and mistake it for a restaurant at Six Flags? 

Dozens of bikers came in with their motorcycles, yet their engines couldn’t even overpower the chatter coming from newcomers left and right. You ignored a heavy tattooed biker dressed in all leather and denim catcalling you from afar, and you reached the front desk. 

A man dressed in uniform, most definitely in character, tipped his hat at you and led you to a table with only two chairs. You weren’t expecting anyone to join you in the other seat across. So what if you went for dinner by yourself? You didn’t bother asking anyone to join you for that matter. Not anyone you could think of at the top of your head would be any less boring.

You began tracing your fingers around the rim of the ketchup bottle when not even five seconds after sitting down, a lady approached your table with ruby red lips. 

Of course, you thought. Servers were dressed up as icons from the 50s era.

“Marilyn,” you say in awe.

“Close enough,” Instead of being seated in the Marilyn Monroe section being served by a Marilyn Monroe-looking Marilyn Monroe, you were greeted with a tall Mamie Van Doren, who is just as breathtaking as Marilyn refilling everyone’s coffee mugs from the other side of the restaurant. “How about I get you started with drinks?”

Ricky Nelson’s performance on stage came to an end when Mamie arrived with your food. You looked around the place while eating. People weren’t eating by themselves. Families, friends, dates, all of them occupied their seats. Now that you’ve noticed, you sort of wished you brought someone with you, otherwise the seat across from you is used as a footrest. 

So there, you propped your feet on top, and relaxed… then you sat upright. Your eyes fixated on the waiter in his section, which were the cars back in the 50s used as booths. You watch him walk towards one of them. The couple was a young woman in a blunt bob cut with bangs, and a man wearing a black suit with long black hair tied back.

You squint your eyes. It couldn’t be...

“Hi, I’m Buddy. What can I get ya?”

You blinked, dropping the half bitten French fry from your mouth. Holy fucking shit.

It was all coming back to you. The news broke out about the heist going wrong at the wholesale, all dead except for one, a cop who laid dead on the ramp inside the rendezvous was identified as Mr. Orange. Since he wasn’t supposed to know where you were from, Mr. Pink never turned up to your door as an emergency hideout, or to drag you with him on his getaway because he never had one. You never heard of him ever since. 

Here he was, Mr. Pink, alive and well, wearing glasses. What the hell happened? How long has he been working here? Is he supposed to be Buddy Holly?

“How do you want that cooked? Burnt to a crisp or bloody as hell?” you hear him ask the man in the suit who ordered a steak.

“Bloody as hell, and oh, yeah, look at this- vanilla coke.”

You noticed the irony. He left you in a black suit - and he comes back in white. Like he’d ever want to be caught dead in white, or pink.

“What about you, Peggy Sue?” he asks the woman, jotting in his notepad. You recognized the pun.

“I’ll have the Durwood Kirby burger, bloody. And… the five dollar shake.”

Were you about to laugh? Call out his name? That was enough for you to get antsy in your seat, but you didn’t want to draw attention. You saw him again while finishing up half of your meal, giving the couple their drinks and disappearing back into the kitchen. He was doing his job, but it wasn’t like he was giving his one hundred percent. For someone who preached to the Gods about professionalism, Mr. Pink sure lacked work ethic. Every employee was on point with their character impersonations as if you had travelled back in time. Meanwhile, he acted like himself and seemed bored while wearing an emotionless face, as if he hated his job and epitome of his existence. It was never a dull moment for him whenever he was with you, though.

You got up to use the restroom.

“We’re lucky we got anything at all. I don’t think Buddy Holly’s much of a waiter,” you heard the man at the booth tell the woman as you walk past them, spotting their food from the corner of your eye. It’s no surprise hearing that. Mr. Pink never looked like the type to work at a job like this.

You sat back down and soon, Mr. Pink reappeared, standing over to the side and watched the announcement of the twisting contest, smoking a cigarette. You see him eyeing two pretty blonde women walking past him, and he looked back his way, now in your direction.

He finally did what you wanted him to do, and he stares at you for nearly a solid minute.

You waved awkwardly. 

Mr. Pink tosses the cigarette in a random person’s ashtray and disappears behind the door once again. You darted out of your chair, and marched your way to where he headed, just as the couple he served got up on stage to participate in the twisting contest.

A Zorro waiter jumps in front of you. “Stop right there, mi amor!” his eyes darted at you through the cheap black mask he was wearing. “I believe the bathroom’s on the other side of the bar.”

“Where’s Buddy?” you ask Zorro.

“I’m afraid Mr. Holly is taking a quick break from unenthusiastically serving love birds in their cars.”

“Can you tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Once I see him.” Zorro then took out his sword and pointed it at you, a grin plastered on his face. “Now, shall I escort you back to your dining spot?”

Although you were aware this guy was only in character, you didn’t wanna risk getting kicked out, or having a realistic looking sword ripped through your body. You sighed and turned around, heading back. You noticed at your table a folded napkin beside your empty plate. Mamie Van Doren was last seen there, her back facing you with her heels clicking away on the tiles.

“Excuse me!” you called after the waitress. She ignores you, smiling down at new customers at an umbrella table.

Cocking an eyebrow, you used your finger to flatten the crease and read the note in bold handwriting.

FIND ME UNDER THE GIANT RABBIT. - BUDDY 

You threw the door open and ran outside, precisely under the giant rabbit of the Jack Rabbit Slim’s sign, just like he said on the napkin. You felt like an idiot checking every direction to find no one. Not a lot of the bikers were seen riding or hanging out around the parking lot, some people were coming and going, but you couldn’t find Buddy Holly.

Defeated, you turn to walk back inside. 

Mr. Pink rushed out the door and caught his breath. It looked like he was chasing you down before you could take off. A song used for the twisting contest kept playing from inside.

You didn’t run up to him and jumped in his arms or anything dramatic in that matter. You both stared at each other.

A few days before the heist you two stood across each other waiting for Mr. Brown and Mr. White inside the hideout. It was a quiet moment, not an awkward one. He just took that opportunity to study you, as you did him. It took him that moment to realize he was warming up to you. 

“Well hello there, Buddy,” you smile smugly.

YOU and Pink loitered at the side of the eatery, where the back door to the kitchen was located. He had taken off his fake glasses, showing his full frame.

“Okay,” you watch him lean against the wall, lighting his cigarette. “Talk to me. What happened to you?”

“What the hell do you think? Cops tagged me when I tried driving away. I was put behind bars, and by some fucking miracle this place took me in when I needed money.”

“You didn’t know any other crime bosses looking for a lanky dude?” Pink rolls his eyes at your joke. “I know the heist went terribly wrong, I saw the news. Everyone’s dead as Dillinger.”

“That briefcase had a shit load of two million dollars worth of stones,” Pink blew smoke out. “I swear, if that asshole undercover cop was never sent to set us up, I could have been enjoying a cocktail in Santorini. You’re lucky you called in sick that day.”

You shuddered, remembering how god-awful the illness was. “Never again. I felt like I was being hot glued to a sauna.”

You remembered the day of the heist. In fact, you mentally prepared yourself for something that you’ve never done before. You braced for what was supposed to go smoothly as Joe promised. Instead, you were woken up by the worst case scenario above 38 degrees. You were thankful Joe took it easy on you and promised another job next time. 

“All right, your turn. What did you do after that shit show went down?” Pink asks you.

“Just did my own thing. I wasn’t there so the cops never searched for me.” Pink took a slow drag, staring at nothing. He didn’t really look the same as before. Still lanky, except his hair was a bit more darkened and styled in curls, possibly because Buddy Holly had it permed that way. But his face read that he had been through a lot. Normally you felt zero pity for assholes like him, but you managed to blurt out, “I missed you.”

Pink, blowing out smoke in the air, eyed you up and down and furrowed his brows. “Likewise.”

Not only did it suck not being able to make money, you also couldn’t do it with Mr. Pink. As much as he kept his professionalism to a T, he squeezed in time to get along with you. It was no wonder Joe hired you - you were different than the guys, you moved differently and never felt small. Mr. Pink was drawn to that. 

Maybe that was just an understatement. He grew intimidated by something he expected to experience the least from in the job, and of course, straight out of a fairytale, you had to stop and ask yourself if you felt the same way, and if what you felt was right. Neither of you had any idea. It was against the rules to give out personal information to each other, and Mr. Pink took those rules very seriously, even if it was just one job that he most likely wouldn’t come back to unless a higher pay was involved and Joe Cabot liked him enough to recruit him again. 

If Mr. Pink grew too attached, if he let his guard down for one second, God forbid something would have happened to you. Without a doubt, he would have heavily blamed himself and walked away from the job without saying another word. 

His options were to wait until after the robbery to make a move, or do his job, get paid and leave. Whether or not it was out of selfishness was out of the question. Mr. Pink is already selfish in an intuitive kind of way, he’d rather avoid spiraling into a wave of emotions for one person - so he chose the latter.

“What?” Pink looked at you, feeling a bit tense. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Huh? No. It’s nothing,” you blinked, realizing you were staring at him longer than you should have. You shook your head, most likely shaking off the intrusive thoughts. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to tell him what’s on your mind. 

If anything, he’s most likely sleeping with the Marilyn Monroe waitress. “It’s just… you shaved the goatee.”

Pink nodded, looking a bit annoyed that there was no facial hair left on his chin to rub. “Buddy Holly had a clean face. For the record, the only advantage of this job is that I’m under disguise. Other than that, this place is a circus. I’m zooming back in time whenever I clock in.”

“It’s a 50s themed restaurant,” you state. “Working here sounds like fun. At least you get to dress up and experience pop culture.”

He scoffs. “No, fuck the 50s. Shit was all I Love Lucy and those puffy ass dresses.”

“They’re called poodle skirts, Pink.”

“Like I give a fuck what they’re called.”

“You know Buddy Holly smiled. He was a singer and a guitarist. If you keep up the attitude, no one’s gonna tip you. Nice Guy Eddie told me about your rant on tipping.”

“Ha! And? You will never find me up on that stage performing That’ll Be The Day, moving like a fucking animatronic.” Halfway finished, Pink tossed his cigarette aside and looked at you. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

You felt your cheeks flushing. Fuck. “I am?”

He nodded, putting his Buddy Holly glasses back on his face. “Yeah. It’s a breath of fresh air seeing you here.” He stares down at his wristwatch for a moment.

“Your break’s done?”

“It’s been done,” he says. “Fifteen minutes ago.”

You shook your head, chuckling. “You’re so fired.”

“This isn’t the first time I stopped caring, so my boss isn’t gonna bat an eye.” He had his hand wrapped around the back door which was supported by a wooden block to keep it open. “Look, I’ll see ya arou-”

“Pink?” Your heart rose up to your throat.

He turned back to you. “Hm?” 

You just had to do it. You reached up and kissed him softly. Pink didn’t shove or curse at you. His features softened, pulling you close to him and kissed you deeply. Even when you two pulled away, his arms didn’t unwrap from your waist. His forehead was pressed against yours now.

“My name’s Y/N,” you tell him.

He stares at you, no snarky, sarcastic comment left for him to give.

“I know you’re not willing to give your name up just yet, you can’t fully trust me, and I get that, but I won’t tell anyone what happened. You got lucky, I think… but I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m serious.”

“Y/N,” he says your name for the first time. “You don’t have to go all sappy for me. Karma came in hot. Jesus Christ, I mean, I left you.”

“Not really. You didn’t know me. The cops had the place staked out the entire day, there was nothing you could do.”

He looked down at his shoes. “All right. But still, I feel shitty. Can I at least make it up to you?”

“How?”

Pink shrugs. “I get paid tomorrow.”

“Good for you,” you reply. “Save it like you’re gonna lose it.”

“I’ve had this job for a while now, I got enough to last. But once I win the lottery, I’m gone.”

“To Santorini?”

“With a cocktail in my hand. But that’s besides the point, right now I got enough to take you out on a date… if you’re down.”

“Where would you plan on taking me? Here?” you laugh.

“You’re funny. How about the movies? Overruled, I’m taking you to see a movie. I gotta know where you live first. It’s okay to know now.”

You nodded, you couldn't argue with that. Besides, you two would just be making out in the dark the entire time.

His hand was back on the handle of the back door. Pink pulled it open, looked back at you and smiled for the first time tonight. That warmed your heart, and you were certain it warmed his. He watched you stuff something inside his pocket square as you told him your address. He went back inside, shutting the door on you. You walked back to the front of the restaurant to pay for the bill, and went straight home. 

Mr. Pink shuffles past the chefs in the kitchen, feeling through his suit pocket to pull out his notepad and whatever you stuffed inside just moments ago.

I didn’t even serve them. Is this supposed to be for Mamie Van Doren? He stares down at the dollar bill crumpled in his hand. His frown suddenly transitions to a small but genuine smile. 

Fuck it. Nothing could stop him now. He definitely owes you a date night. He quickly stuffs the tip back in his pocket square, and comes out the sliding door. 

THE END

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TAGLIST: @locke-writes​ @aryn-the-bearheart​