#ball and chain verse

[visionkept]

❝ I'm not funny, I'M HILARIOUS. ❞ Not a single trace of SHAME in those prideful words of theirs. It's almost as if they were mocking her imprudent attitude ( and most likely were ). Coming from a STRANGER, her coarse comments meant NOTHING to them. ❝ Save your claws for another day, blondie. ❞ Been insulted for YEARS had given them some IMMUNITY to this kind of remarks. It's as if their mind had ADAPTED to the CIRCUMSTANCES.

❝ I can tell you my name. ❞ Was it going to be that easy ? Nop ! You know damn well it won't be. ❝ But you gotta ask NICELY first, KITTEN. ❞

The way she reacts to the tiniest respond they give. . . it's ENTERTAINING to say the least. The smirk they held only grows. Finds themselves giving a step, showing they do not fear nor find themselves threatened by her presence. On the contrary, TEASING her had made this exchange worth their time.

@snowtombedstar / / FROM THIS THREAD.

[valtsv]

silt verses main plot:

silt verses subplots:

if there's one thing the silt verses loves it's a fake marriage subplot. hayward's "listen up liberal. my wife left me." monologue to carpenter in the diner (the wife is his job). the widow of wounds narrative. shruedinger's partner and kids. "divorce is a mindset" ass podcast fr.

[darklordofthesimp]

Anything VIII (König x Reader)

The 8th instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Like the characters? Read their fics below!

Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: No one make any sudden movements. I have returned. Excuse how rusty my writing is.

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Unrequited Pining || Tension

Warning: Graphic Language

What a sight you must behold. 

Sleepless, stressed and on the verge of your breaking point… again. 

It was no wonder that Saint watched you with deep concern, no wonder that they held their pen like it was a lifeline rather than just stationary. You wanted them to just understand, you needed them to know that you weren’t insane- everything was so elaborately planned and you were just on the verge of unravelling it. 

“Saint,” you rasped, “there are people in on this…. The brass. I think König too. It’s a fuck-fight.” 

The doctor leaned back into their chair, eyes never leaving your jittering figure. The sigh that fell from their lips released none of the tension balled tightly in their shoulders. 

“Birdy…” 

You stood to your feet. You didn’t want to hear it. 

You were sick of hearing people say your name in that tone: placatingly, diminishing your thoughts and dismissing you as if you were the local crazy. 

Maybe you were the local crazy. 

Is that how everybody saw you? Did everybody truly think that you were so off-kilter that you’d hallucinate a coup? You were a victim of assault- not insanity. 

“Stop,” Saint put their pen down firmly on the table, drawing your attention back to the situation at hand. “I’m listening. I’m just a little…  hesitant. It’s a very serious accusation, Birdy, but I’m not doubting the source.” 

You shot the medical officer a knowing glare. “Oh,” you drawled sarcastically, “because everybody takes me seriously at this unit with my history, right?” 

“I don’t give a fuck about whether anybody else takes you seriously,” Saint’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I take you seriously, Birdy.” 

The room was doused in tension. Your fingers curled to form tight fists, skin stretching over your knuckles until they turned white. You don’t know why you were angry at their declaration, angry at their loyalty. 

Maybe it was because you knew it was misplaced. 

Maybe it was because you knew you’d disappoint. “Yeah,” you sighed softly, relaxing your hands as you turned for the door. “That makes one of us.” 

_______

The walk to training always held some anxiety but this time it was as if you were drowning in it. Each step felt like a death knell and sudden dryness in your mouth made you want to turn back and run to the safety of your room.

You thought that you were well and truly past this. 

Apparently, you couldn’t get past anything. 

As you approached the door you were surprised to hear voices. No one ever wanted to interact with König, let alone at 7 a.m. on a Saturday. The room was always booked for the two of you at this time, interruptions were specifically warned against by Price. 

It’s just a conversation. You took in a deep breath. Not everything required a downward spiral, not all mysteries needed investigation. 

Literally just a fucking conversation. Get a grip. 

You straightened your shoulders as you approached the door and the dialogue became clearer. 

“Birdy will be here soon.” König’s voice was as familiar as your own. “You need to leave.” 

You pulled up short just before the entrance, frozen like a deer in the headlights. There was a short silence before a soft thud echoed throughout the room. It sounded like a hand being clapped over the shoulder but you weren’t sure. Could have been a punch, could have been a really intense kiss, who fucking knew? 

All you knew was that they weren’t meant to be there. Maybe it was Sunshine. 

Although you hated the arrogant fucker, it would relieve you to know it was them. They were inconsequential and, although they were annoying, they wouldn’t be behind your assassination attempt. 

Sunshine would have made sure you were in the ground, no matter the cost. Sunshine would have succeeded. 

Instead, the voice that rattled in your ears wasn’t your fellow coworker. 

“Just be careful. Wouldn’t want to jump the gun, would we?” 

Your blood turned to ice.  

Graves. 

You could almost hear that snake-like grin in his words, you could almost see the look in his eyes that was nothing but predatory. Phillip was charming when he wanted to be, but there was something terrifying about him.

Like a trap lying in wait. 

Like a traitor waiting to strike. 

The sound of sure and steady footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts. Panic flooded your system, kicking your adrenaline into gear. There was nowhere to hide, not even a small nook in this god-forsaken hallway.

As Graves drew closer to discovering your presence, you bounced back a few steps from where you’d been frozen. Throwing your arms above your head as if you were stretching and squinting your eyes with an outrageous yawn was all you could pull together. 

Phillip rounded the corner with a cocky sway that made your heart race. You watched him scan your slowly approaching body, seemingly tired and unaware. You acted surprised to see him, carefully schooling your face to return to the usual lifelessness that it held. 

“Birdy!” Graves said, slowing his pace. With a flash of teeth, the corner of his mouth pulled upward into a knowing smirk. “Good to see you.”

“I bet,” you said monotonously, adding a dismissive nod at the end like a punctuation mark. 

Phillip’s smirk turned into a smile. 

“Enjoy your session,” the man said slowly. As he drew closer you could feel your chest tightening. He smelt fresh like he had just gotten out of a long, hot shower. You hated that he was close enough to smell the fucking body wash on his skin. 

His shoulder brushed yours as he passed by, setting your body alight with fear. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder as you trekked towards the gym door, eyes firm on that handle. His footsteps still echoed along the hallway by the time that you’d reached the entrance. 

“You’re late.” 

König’s voice startled you despite making direct eye contact with him. 

The man looked disgruntled, to say the least. His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it over and over, and your guess was confirmed when he roughly raked it over once more. König’s eyes were looking anywhere but yours. 

“I’m not.” You’d meant for those words to have some bite to them but you couldn’t muster up the venom. Not when he looked like that. 

“You are,” he insisted with a snarl. 

You raised your hands up in surrender, eyes narrowing at his hostility. The urge to leave grew tenfold and so did your distrust for the man before you. There were too many things that pointed towards his guilt in planning your assassination. 

The way he’d tried to blow off your concerns, the vehement way he’d shouted for you to drop it, and now, his interaction with Graves. You thought back to your time in the kitchen when Phillip had first encountered you both. 

“Now, who’d have thought that you’d both be so… close.” He had said.

The Shadow had watched with intrigue as König stepped in front of you as if protecting you from him. If you really thought about it, most of his smarminess was aimed at the man beside you, rather than yourself. 

You swallowed and choked on your own spit. It was a distant reminder of when it had been your own blood that you’d coughed on. 

König’s sigh tore you from your spiralling conspiracies. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. His tone was quiet but his eyes were genuine. 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat. “No, it’s fine. I get shitty when I deal with Graves, too.” 

But why was he with Phillip in the first place? 

You wanted to ask him, everything in you pleaded to seek out the truth. You needed to investigate-, you needed to know. Your mouth opened to get the answers you so desperately desired, but a thought made you stop in your tracks. 

What if you let on that you were suspicious of him? 

It was clear that you were no match against König. Your entire life had become interwoven with his and it felt like he was there in your every waking moment. If he knew that you suspected him, it would only put you in danger again. He’d busted through your bedroom door once and that was enough to tell you that you wouldn’t be safe from him anywhere you went. 

You distantly realized that König was watching you carefully from where he stood, jade eyes analyzing every quirk of your lips and every twitch of your brows. 

“What?” You said, feigning self-consciousness. “Admiring your handiwork?” 

The man shot you a glare and you prayed that was enough to shift his attention. 

“I hate it when you say things like that,” he hissed, pulling his jacket down his arms and throwing it aside. “Seriously.” 

“Yeah, well I hate having a chopping block for a face.” You tilted your head to shoot him a deadpan look over your shoulder. “Seriously.” 

“I cannot deal with you sometimes, Birdy.” König hissed. 

“I can tell,” you jerked your thumb towards your marred features. 

You knew that you were playing with fire. The way the man stood straight, his gaze narrowing and any sense of banter dissipating from his features, made it very clear that it was time for you to stop pushing that particular button. 

“Your attempt at deflecting is not as effective as you may think,” König said, his words slow and deliberate. Jade eyes bore into yours and your breath stuttered in your chest. 

You could lie to him, you could play dumb. He was dangerous and if you tipped him off you would be dead by morning.

You couldn’t make sense of that logic, though. If he wanted you dead, you’d well and truly have been dead by now. Your cheeks stung at the thought… you suppose that there wasn’t a lack of trying. Maybe it really had just been a failed attempt. 

“Birdy,” the soldier said, shooting a glance at the door. “I know what you are thinking and you need to put a stop to it.” 

Those contesting thoughts came to a staggering halt. 

“I don’t even know what I’m thinking,” you snapped. “What would you know?” 

König raised a brow at your tone, opening his mouth to deliver what you would assume to be an infuriating response. The words choked and fell from his tongue, though. There was a huff as he turned on his heel, stalking towards the exit and closing the door. 

You swallowed thickly. 

When he swivelled to look at you it was with a burning gaze that pinned you to where you stood.

“You bring attention to us in ways that will get us killed,” König whispered harshly, his accent was sharp and heavy with each enunciation. “You need to stop.” 

“Stop what?” You waved your hands at him. “You’re so fucking vague.” 

He flinched forward, pushing his finger onto your lips. You smacked his hand away like a cat pawing at something irritating. 

“Would you be quiet?” He snarled through gritted teeth. König took in a deep breath, casting another look at the exit. He was watching the light beneath the door, making sure there were no shadows tipping off an eavesdropper. Why was he suddenly the paranoid one? 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You lowered your tone but the urgency behind it was still present. 

“You need to stop chasing this lead,” König shook his head, gaze imploring. “You need to stop trying to find who planned the accident.” 

Your mouth went dry. 

“Is that a threat?” The words were a true whisper this time. Barely falling from your lips and only as audible as a soft gasp. 

König’s eyes widened. “What?” 

“Are you in on it?” You asked, taking a step backward. 

Bile roiled in your stomach as if mimicking a stormy sea. There was a distinct buzzing in your ears, numbing you to anything but the situation at hand.

“What?” König repeated. “What? No. That is not what I meant by that.” 

You shook your head, “the other day- the way you reacted says otherwise.” 

He reached out for your arm and you wonder if it was to comfort you or to detain you. You finched away from him but this time the man before you didn’t yield. He did not back down and he did not allow you the illusion of control. 

Instead, König held you firmly by your biceps. 

“I need you to listen to me, Birdy. We don’t have time for this back and forth thing that we do every time.” 

Rage tore through your chest at his dismissal and you would have told him as much had he not looked so desperate. Instead, you kept your mouth shut as the man watched you pleadingly. You would let him speak because maybe he had the answers you were searching for, maybe König would be the evidence to prove that these suspicions weren’t delusions. 

The man cast another glance towards the doorway before letting go of your arms. You straightened cautiously, being mindful to not rub at the skin he’d had contact with. 

“Well?” You whispered impatiently, waving a hand at him to continue. “You wanna manhandle me or do you want to talk?” 

“It’s not safe for us to talk here,” König’s words were barely audible. “You need to stop with your head-hunting. Stop asking questions.” 

His eyes were fierce, warning you not to challenge his demands but you couldn’t care less. He, of all people, had no right to be telling you when to chase answers.

He raised a hand before you could speak. “You are going to get us both killed because you gather intel like a child-” 

“What does that even mean?” You interrupted harshly.

“It means you have alerted everyone, Birdy!” König snapped, his voice harsh and his eyes flashing. “Whoever did this knows that you’re onto them. They know that we know.” 

You blinked dumbly, stunned. 

The man glared at you for a long moment, his chest heaving with laden breaths. The silence that eneveloped you both was anything but empty. There was a buzzing in your ears and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or horrified that he’d confirmed your suspicions. Blind rage filled your lungs as if you were drowning. 

“You mother fucker!” You hissed between gritted teeth, shoving at his chest with as much force as you could muster. “You fucking knew?” 

“Of course I knew!” König bit back as he stumbled for his footing. “I’ve been trying to find them and you have been hindering me every fucking step of the way, Birdy.”

You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, you wanted to bash this man over and over just like he’d done to you. You weren’t insane but he was more than happy to intimidate you into thinking that you were. 

“How could you keep this from me?” Your fingers dug into the skin of his arms as you grabbed him. You wanted to shake the truth from the giant before you, rattle the honesty right from his mouth. “After everything that’s happened!” 

König didn’t so much as wince at your nails in his skin, fury simmered in his eyes like molten jade. “I was your main suspect and you outright told me about your suspicions while you were locked in a room with me, Birdy. What would have happened if I was actually everything you make me out to be?” 

You swallowed thickly, your fingers loosening their grip. 

“I could have killed you right there,” König continued softly, “at this rate you’ll die before you find them.” 

“You said I already tipped everyone off,” you rasped, almost meek in tone. “How have they not come for me yet?” 

The man rolled his shoulders, shooting another paranoid glance at the door. He continued talking as he scanned the room, searching for telltale signs of a third party.

“Everyone thinks you are disabled, Birdy, no one is taking your concerns seriously.” König straightened, levelling you with an evaluative glare. “But I knew better.” 

You drew in a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments before releasing just like Saint had taught you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the thought of your therapist. You told them everything- König was right. You’d mouthed off your suspicions knowing that Saint and Price were close. What if Saint had told Price? Then Price would have told Shephard and Simon and then- God. 

You’re so fucking stupid. 

Of course everyone knew, you’d practically blasted it across the unit’s P.A system. 

“What now?” You managed to croak. “What do we do now?” 

König frowned at you, his body falling still. “We?” 

“You’re not leaving me out of this,” you ground out. 

“We are not doing anything together,” he said, eyes roaming over your features quizzically. Your heart lurched desperately, there was no way you’d let him do this without you. You deserved to be a part of this, you deserved to get your justice and whoever did this deserved to die.

“You owe it to me!” You nearly raised your voice, fear trickling down the expanse of your spine. Not a fear of the man before you, but this time it was a fear of being left behind. Left to paranoia, left alone with your thoughts and suspicions and no one to hear them. 

König shook his head, “we cannot work together.” 

“We have to!” 

“We can’t!” 

Your eyes were wide and your chest was heaving as the man before you gripped your shoulders. He lowered down to a knee, drawing close enough that you were only a breath apart. You opened your mouth to offer a shaky response but the way his gaze ran over your features stole the words straight from your tongue. 

“I will not risk your safety again, Birdy.” König’s words brushed against your lips, warm but sorrowful. “That is what I owe to you.” 

[wood-white-writer]

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [4/...]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

"I think my brain is rotting in places, I think my heart is ready to die, I think my body's falling in pieces, I think my blood is passing me by."

— Mitski, "Brand New City"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, Buggy is a lonely asshole, "Cross-Hairs"/reader is a lonely asshole too, flashbacks, semi-canon divergence, Reader is strong AF, a mixture of both the Reader's and Buggy's POVs, angst

A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than usual with only 2.2k words... Sorry.

Taglist:@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

You’re like a savage beast when you’re fighting, Buggy admits to himself in awe as he watches you tear through your opponents one by one with substantially more strength than anyone thought your body capable of.

But Buggy's not just anybody. He's always known that your body is of a special sort, an Iron Maiden encompassed by skin, flesh, veins, arteries, and ligaments; capable of bringing ruin to anyone and anything if only you have reason enough. Chains can't hold you, nor can any power on this earth.

He relishes in it.

You have your sword and your pistol both disposable at the belt on your hip, but you seem to have no interest in wielding them for the battle. No, your body is a weapon on its own; a blade cutting through people like grass straws on a narrow field.

It’s during times like these — when he gets to watch your strength from the front rows — that he wonders whether you’ve eaten a Devil Fruit of your own at some point, but that can't be. He’s seen you swim.

You, him, and Shanks had been simply traveling through the town where the Oro Jackson was docked, minding your own business when a group of rival pirates suddenly ambushed you. Thinking they easily could kidnap the apprentices of the famous Gol D. Roger and demand ransom, the shidiots would quickly come to realize that they made a mistake.

A very costly one at that. One they will be sure not to repeat.

Whereas he and Shanks stand partnered together against a few of the rival group, you are holding your own quite well from the other side of the fight. He swears he saw one of the men flying over him at some point, though it might’ve just been a trick of the adrenaline.

Kicking one of the larger pirates straight in the balls with his lower body severed from the rest, he turns his upper body to catch a glimpse of you in case you need help.

What he sees instead is a flash of the sun reflecting in your eyes as you pounce at your prey, casting a yellow line in the air that reminds him of lightning about to strike the ground. Everything around him seems to cease mid-motion save for you. There is no fighting going on, no shouting, no Shanks telling him to take cover from an incoming blow.

All he sees is you, and all he hears is his own voice telling him: "Gods, you’re fucking marvelous."

The last thing he hears is Shanks shouting his name before the world begins to darken around him, and the last thing he sees is lightning making its way toward him, destroying everything in its path to get to him.

He wonders drowsily if it's going to strike him too.

———

The fight that ensues reminds you of the battles you partook in during your years as Captain. The chaos in it all. The carnage. The general inability to think properly as you fight. Of course, your opponents back then lacked Buggy's uncanny ability to split up into multiple parts while still alive, but it doesn't stop you. 

Nothing on this earth can.

Blades are thrown, skin is cut, and by the time you get close enough to reach him, a number of props have scattered to pieces in the midst of your warfare. It seems like an endless battle trying to defeat him, just get him to fucking stay still.

Just as you reach for Buggy's chest with your nails reached out to claw at his vest, his midsection separates and all you're left with is air. Just empty air.

He cackles as he puts himself back a few good feet from where you're standing. "C'mon! Put your back into it! It's like you're not even tryin—!"

In a flash, your face is hairsbreadths away from his, and it feels like everything around him stops. 

At that moment, he realizes that the golden color of the sun has not left your eyes. Only to find that, upon closer inspection, it's not the color of the sun that he's met with.

It's thunder, and it strikes hard.

Before he has the chance to blink, the next thing he knows is the feeling of a boulder being pushed against his stomach. Not a sound leaves his throat save for a guttural groan, and he finds himself on the ground before he knows it with stars adorning the edges of his vision.

Gods, he thinks while in a state of both pain and exhausted satisfaction, your face a blurred canvas in his eyes. You’re so fucking marvelous.

By the time Nami and Zoro debut to join the battle, you have already pinned Buggy to the ground with your legs planted firmly on each side of his hips, and a bruising grip around his neck as you press your forearm down onto it. Not enough to cut his flow of oxygen, but enough so that he doesn't have the capacity to move unless he splits.

His face, the very same face you used to paint when you were younger, looks up at you with nothing short of manic glee. He doesn't even divide himself up to get free this time. It's almost like merely connecting to him, even during an act of violence such as this, is enough to keep him entertained. Happy, you dare think.

You find those sea-blue eyes looking up at you, and before you try and strike the finishing blow, you hesitate. You fuckinghesitate, because when it all comes down to it, you can't find it in yourself to kill him. 

The legendary Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, the executioner of a thousand marines and other pirates, can't kill something this time.

You can't kill him. You can't kill those ocean-blue eyes, even when your body yearns to see through with what you promised. You always stick to your promises, but for the first time in forever, you don't. You can't. 

Not him.

Never him.

Meanwhile, Buggy can't help examining you like you're the most fascinating creature he's ever laid his eyes on, because you are. Even after all this time, he's still as drawn to the fire in your eyes that as he was all those years ago. It's a feeling he can never hope to extinguish.

Nor does he want to.

Being the jester that he is, however, he takes the moment to his advantage. This one, vulnerable moment. It's not out of pettiness, but survival. Nothing personal.

He separates his femur and exploits the momentum to knock you off him. He can tell you're surprised as you position yourself on your knees and hands, yet it only takes you a ghost of a moment to recover.

The fire is back in your eyes, a thousand times brighter this time, and the fight continues. 

Now, neither of you holds back, and he becomes first-hand acquainted with just how ruthless truly you can be. When there is nothing keeping you down.

Truth be told, it excites him. Very much so. 

He has the Bounty Hunter and the Tangerine-haired girl hot on his tail, but he hardly provides them a medium of his attention. You're the only thing he can't take his eyes off.

"NAMI! THE CRATES!"

And that's where the entire play gradually comes to an end. Maybe it's what pisses him off the most?

You stalk after his separated body parts like a hunter after a flock of deer, throwing them into the crates as the rest of your companions follow suit. Whereas Nami and Zoro are strategic with their actions, complementing each other, you're acting on pure, unadulterated wrath. 

You do not have Luffy's stretchy capabilities, Zoro's precision, or Nami's diligence. 

What you have is something far, far deadlier.

It's twenty years of pent-up heartache.

Catching pieces of him is much easier than catching all of him.

This is what it's come to, with you and him fighting; with you and him having different goals. It's not the future you envisioned for yourself at all. In fact, it's the exact opposite. If you knew then what you know now, you would've ... 

Once, it was you and him together against the rest of the world. Now, it's you against him, against the rest of the world.

You can feel your eyes threaten to sting as you catch his femur and throw it in an open box that promptly shuts, but like with everything else, you push it down. You push it until all that remains is the vague ache. 

It doesn't matter, you tell yourself. This is what it will stay like. 

In the end, all of his body parts save for his head, hands, and feet are spared from the confinement of the containers, and when he melds them together to a pathetically small version of his usual self, you can't help but address the irony of the situation.

"What have you done to me?!" Buggy cries.

Luffy grins as he caresses his beloved hat, having suffered the most injuries. "Cut you down to size."

Buggy looks as small as you felt that day. Helpless. Pathetic. Reduced to almost nothing.

Still, it's not a moment that brings you any happiness. Not any victory, or satisfaction. You don't even have the urge to gloat. 

All it brings you, as you tower over him from the side, is nothingness. 

You're tempted to kick him, and you almost do. You take a step closer to him, a river of anger rushing through your veins. With nowhere else to go, it circles.

"The One Piece will never be yours!" Buggy yells and flaps his hands, too focused on Luffy to notice you calmly stalking toward him from the dark. "You're just a sad, lonely little boy, wearing another man's hat!" 

It’s Shanks’s hat, you want to scream. Our friend’s hat. Don’t you remember?

Luffy's words don't register with you as you kneel in front of the shortened clown, nor do Nami's questions or Zoro's inquisitive eyes. It all tunes out into the background as you raise your hand slowly to Buggy, and you think about how easy it will be. It will be so easy to end it now. He's weak, he's practically defenseless. There's nothing to stop you now.

Buggy simply stares when he notices you, his mouth slightly parted in what you can only perceive as surprise and ... disbelief? You take one final look at his face, the same face you used to paint long ago, and you briefly wonder how many layers of white, red, and blue separate this one from the touches you applied years ago. 

Is there still some residue left? Any fingerprint? Does anything from you still linger with him, or did he try to scrub your touches off his face the same way he tried to scrub you from his life altogether?

Buggy is completely still as your outstretched fingers close in on him, and he thinks that this is it. Now's the moment when you will make good on your threats, where you'll finally kill him. Truth be told, it's a less-than-satisfactory way to go, but surprisingly enough, it doesn't bother him half as much as he expected it would.

Maybe it's because, after all this time, it's still you until the end? You and him, like it was always meant to be.

He closes his eyes with a sigh and finds that the edge of his lip tilts a little up. "Go for it," he says, awaiting the moment when your calloused fingers grip him. He can anticipate your nails clawing at his scalp, tearing the skin of his cranium, digging until there is nothing left to tear at.

Devil Fruit or not, you're the only one he'll let end him like this.

Except, you don't.

All he feels are your fingertips gently grazing the sides of his cheek, so uncharacteristically soft against his thin stubbles that he could've mistaken it for air brushing his face.

The same hands he knows capable of such great feats of violence and brutality, the same ones who had just fought against him with enough strength to match a beast, are touching him like he's made of glass. 

He snaps his eyes open, and when he meets your gaze, he's surprised to find them ... empty. Hollow. 

The sun is gone, and so is the thunder. Now, there are only clouds in his view.

"Goodbye, Buggy." Your voice is so tranquil that he strains to hear it, and before he gets to, you stand up again and turn your back to him. "He's all yours, Luffy."

No, no! He tries to walk up to you, but his shortened sature won't let him. Don't look away, not yet! Look at me! If only to keep your fucking promise! Just fucking pleas—Please just look at me again!

"GUM-GUM—!"

"No, no, no!" Buggy, for the first time in his life, begs as the kid stretches his arms backward. Not like this. Not yet. He tries to search for you, only to discover that you've already left the circus tent. "Wait, wait, wait! Just wait!"

"— BAZOOKA!"

[hxroic-wxlls-fxrever]

Welcome to Hxroic-Wxlls (Again!)

Multi-Muse OC and Canon RP Blog

Contains a variety of muses from series such as Mario, Sonic, Fire Emblem, Gurren Lagann, Dragon Ball, and more

Super OC and Crossover Friendly

Memes Galore

9+ Years to RP Experience

Rules and Muses Below:

No God Modding:

No Vague Posting:

No rushing for replies/guilt tripping

Have Fun!

Muse List:

Super Mario Bros:

Mario

Luigi

Yoshi

Peach

Chompette (Chain Chomp turned princess via the Super Crown:)

Starlette (OC: The cheery creator of the Mario!Verse. Despite her goofy nature and love for randomness, she loves all her creations, equally.)

Apricot (OC: Princess Peach’s younger sister. Mischievous and constantly searching for ways to entertain herself. Tends to skip out on important Royal duties, but loves the kingdom and its people all the same).

Maria (OC: Mario and Luigi’s niece, and the older sister to Louise. She idolizes her uncles and is full of energy, constantly on the search for adventure and is eager to prove herself as someone who can live up to the legacy of the bros.)

Louise (OC: Mario and Luigi’s niece, and the younger sister to Maria. Like her sister, she idolizes her uncles, but is much more reserved and shy when compared to her older sister. She tends to stay behind her sister’s back, but will stand up to help out if the situation demands it.)

Touhou Project:

Little Reimu Hakurei (Osana Reimu)

Minako Hakurei (Reimu’s Mother: Originates from Osana Reimu)

EX Rumia (Osana Reimu)

Youmu Konpaku

Fujiwara No Mokou

Hinanawi Tenshi

Shion Yorigami

Reika Hakurei (OC: The god of the Hakurei, in the Osana Reimu universe. After watching the future events of the family unfold, she granted all three of the protagonists with divine energy to prevent their sad fate from coming to be…which came at the price of her shrinking down to around Suwako’s size, and losing a majority of her energy. She can best be described as a ‘Lazy Neet who stays inside and plays video games all day.’ She does care, trust her. She’s just not good at showing it.)

Sendai Hakurei (OC: The previous Hakurei Shrine maiden, and mother to warriorsofcrimsonrealms’ Reimu. She’s a relatively quiet shrine maiden, who spends most of her time training to improve herself, both mentally and physically. Her devotion training can sometimes lead her to make questionable decisions, like sitting under a waterfall in the winter, but that same devotion is also the reason for her insane physical strength. She has a strong sense of duty, but isn’t too strict, either.)

Cirno

Chikara (OC: An Oni who had trained Sendai, when she was but a mere child. She encountered the soon to be Shrine Maiden when the young girl accidentally tripped and rolled down a hill in the forest, and came across the Oni in the midst of a training session. Seeing potential in the young girl, despite Sendai’s (old) scaredy cat behavior, she put her through a rigorous training routine where the young shrine maiden essentially had to fight for her life and survive in a simulation of a hostile wildlife environment, similar to that of a certain Namekian and Hybrid Saiyan’s training session in a certain manga. Chikara loves the thrill of battle, and can often be seen training in caves across Gensokyo, or visiting Sendai for sparring matches.

Yumi Konpaku (OC from Lost Word): An alternate Youmu who came from a different Gensokyo, one where she acted as the executioner in a land where contestant fought against each other in tournament settings, and she had to punish the losers. Like the regular Youmu, she enjoys gardening. However, there are a few key differences. One, she’s much more powerful due to her having much more time to spend training…but is also a terrible chef due to her time spent training taking away any time she had to learn how to cook. Hobbies aside, her blade glows red due to the blood it’s been stained with over many years, and is cursed due to all the souls it’s taken. Regardless, she’s a friendly soul, who didn’t enjoy what she had to do.)

Sakuya Izayoi

Gurren Lagann:

Simon

Kamina

Nia Teppelin

Simonia (OC: Simon and Nia’s child, who was born after the events of SRWX. She inherited her father’s core drill, his sense of passion and determination, and her mother’s kindness and curiosity. She idolizes her parents, and tries to follow their example as much as possible (except for her mother’s cooking. She did not inherit Simon’s tolerance for it, and got really sick after her first time trying it.)

Sonic The Hedgehog:

Sonic

Cosmo (Sonic X)

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure:

Jotaro Kujo

Metal Gear:

Raiden (Revengeance)

Shiro (OC: A used to be child soldier who was experimented on as a weapon in the past, before breaking out in a failed test. She was found by Raiden in a warehouse, with a knife in hand, before being adopted into his household. Her memories of her life before the experiments don’t exist for her, no matter how much she tries to dig them up. She’s quiet, but deeply appreciates Raiden for his help, and consistently refers to him as ‘sensei.’ She wields her own personal HF Blade, and trains daily to mimic his combat style. Her favorite food is cereal, which she would have for breakfast lunch and dinner if left unattended, and has a bad habit of spending money on model Gundam figures, recklessly.

Fate:

Cu Chulainn

Elizabeth Bathory

Baobhan Sith

Kirin (OC: Quite possibly the world’s greatest girlfail, with more bags under her eyes than a group of people after a long shopping trip. She’s a middle school dropout who spent the next six years working job to job in run down areas, while barely getting any sleep and playing games 24/7. Once she turned 20, she suddenly got an invitation to work as a master for Chaldea. She initially deemed it a scam, but figured she may as well check it out, since anything was better than working at a bar with ungrateful customers. Soon enough, she found herself fighting in a war to save the world…which she finds completely insane, but kinda fun. The whole ‘threat of death’ thing is annoying, in her opinion, but she figured she could get over it. Personality wise, she can come off as unfriendly and anti-social with a large streak of trouble following her everywhere, but she CAN be nice in some instances… She is not shy about showing when she doesn’t like something to someone, though.

Kiran (OC: Kirin’s older twin, with just as many bags under his eyes, and worked just as many run down jobs before travelling with his sister to Chaldea to work as a master. He’s somewhat more responsible than Kirin, acting as her impulse control to a degree, but for the most part, he tends to behave very similarly to her and the two often finish each other’s sentences. )

Mash Kyrielight

Megaman:

X

Mad Father:

Aya Drevis

Honkai:

Murata Himeko (HI3rd)

Caelus

Bella

Marvel:

Spider-Man (MVC and MCU verses)

Final Fantasy:

Zack Fair

Dragon Maid:

Elma

Pokémon:

Latias

Latios

Malu (OC: Alola’s champion, who spends most of time relaxing and eating Malasadas with his Pokémon. Being someone who strives to find the most comfortable way to live, Malu can often be seen lazing about, wherever. Whether it be on the beach, in a tree, or one of the chairs in a Malasada store, him, napping, is a common sight across Alola. Regardless of his seemingly lazy nature, his skills as a trainer are nothing to take lightly.

Haruka (OC: A trainer from Johto who moved to Alola to take on the Island Trials and become champion. She’s hard working and determined to prove herself. Her efforts proved valiant…up until she got up to the current champion, Malu. She currently has lost to him a total of 87 times thus far, with no victory of her own, yet. Still, she eagerly challenges him whenever he comes by… She finds his presence somewhat irritating though, due to his seemingly lazy nature clashing with his insane combat skills.

Fire Emblem:

Male Robin

Female Morgan

Henry

Soleil

Madoka Magica:

Madoka

Bocchi the Rock:

Hitori Gotou

Ryo Yamada

Yoyoko Ohtsuki

Demon Slayer:

Kyojuro Rengoku

Dragon Ball:

Broly (DBS)

Goku (GT)

Vegeta (GT)

Gohan (Post-Super Hero)

Gamma 1

Gamma 2

Android 17

Android 16

Captain Ginyu

Mister Buu

Blorbro (OC: A time patroller Majin who travelled the world with an Outer Experiment of a girl named Saika, before being recruited into the Time Patrol. He brands super-hero like clothing, and idolized super heros, pro wrestlers, and the champ, himself, Hercule. He’s very laid back and prone to making jokes, but is also the most powerful amongst his group of three.)

Celera (OC: A time patroller Saiyan who worked as a scholar in Universe 6, before being recruited into the Time Patrol. She’s hard working and studious, often trying to find way to make the best of any situation in a logical manner…which makes her a bit irritable due to being surrounded by teammates who rely on anything but logic. Regardless, they’re her friends, and she does her best to keep the world a better place… Also, her natural hair and eye color is black, but gained white hair through a mishap with magic paint, and gold eyes due to a mishap with a spell in school. Both, of which, never got undone or fixed.)

Nio (OC: A time patroller elf who lived in secrecy and practiced dark magic, before being recruited into the Time Patrol. Despite her work in the dark arts, though, Nio is an energetic and extremely friendly soul, who wishes to prove to the world that even magic of this nature can be used to help others. She’s incredibly social…but tends to miss social queues due to having lived alone for so long.)

Kohlri (OC: Broly’s mother, who had abandoned Planet Vegeta in a fit after having heard news of Paragus and her son being sent away to a far away, abandoned planet. Due to her space pod malfunctioning during the trip, she made a crash landing onto earth, and had since been living there while adapting to Earth’s culture, in the meantime. Many years later, after the events of the battle between Broly and Gogeta, the former one day found himself meeting with his mother in the midst of a random shopping trip with Cheelai and Lemo. It didn’t take Kohlri too long to recognize due to both his scent, and tail. This resulted in a very tear reunion on her end, as Kohlri soon found herself walking into her son’s life, once again… Compared to her husband, she’s incredibly cheerful and outgoing, with great social skills…and an apparent lack of impulse control, given her purchase history. She’s also, however, who Broly inherited his rage boosted power ups from, given she goes into similar berserker states when powering up, without focus.

Neptunia:

Uzume Tennouboshi

Ultrakill:

V1

Vocaloid:

Kasane Teto

Akita Neru

Guilty Gear:

Sol Badguy

Yu-Gi-Oh

Yugi Muto & Atem

Kuriboh

Animal Crossing:

Villager

A Hat in Time:

Hat Kid

Kirby:

Kirby

Elsword:

Elesis (Flame Lord)

Elsword (Rune Master)

FNF:

BF

My Deer Friend Nokotan:

Shikanoko

Kid Icarus:

Pit

Omori:

Sunny (Omari!AU)

Fandomless OCs:

Akira (OC: A super laid back 27 year old woman who works at a small gas station in THE TOWN called Akira’s. She’s a friendly soul treats her employees and friends like family, and gives out EXTREMELY large paychecks, despite her only customers being the people from Mario’s apartment. There are rumors that she used to be a fortune goddess who reincarnated as a human, but she has yet to confirm anything…to the public, at least.)

Kiki (OC: A 19 year old ex-magical girl who was fired from being ‘too old to continue working.’ A fact that she found incredibly bizarre and annoying, but she couldn’t really do anything about it as she just suddenly woke up one day, with a ‘Fired’ letter next to her bed, and no powers. Having been launched back into a normal life so suddenly, after five years of dutiful work, she felt lost, until she moved to THE TOWN with her parents, and was hired by Akira. With such a large paycheck, and friendly co-workers around her, she was able to settle back into a normal life… The craziness of THE TOWN does make her life even more bizarre than it used to be, sometimes, though.

Ella (OC: The hired maid of Akira’s…who had no experience in anything regarding Maid work, beforehand. She signed up for the job due to the reviews of the place being friendly…and the paychecks being great. Most of her maid knowledge comes from anime that she watched, so she’s lacking in practical experience, and is plenty clumsy. Regardless, she enjoys her time at the gas station, and her fellow employees enjoys her presence, as well.

August (OC: A member of the Lethal Company, who recently moved to THE TOWN after being given a ten year vacation by the company for surviving ten years of work. She’s skittish, nervous, and very shy, which would be expected after having survived watching most of her co-workers die at the hands of supernatural beings and harsh environmental hazards. While she is happy to be in a ‘somewhat’ less dangerous environment, she does wish that she never took up the job opportunity to be a space excavator, and stool to working at Dairy Queen.)

Nis (OC: The young princess of the underworld, who rules over all its inhabitants with…a surprisingly lazy and gentle hand. Nis is someone who can best be described as a tired and calm soul, almost always being seen in her pajamas, and resting whenever possible. She’s spoiled rotten by her father, yet never acts entitled. Her favorite hobby is playing video games with her minions and friends…and playing with the magical girls in THE TOWN, who initially viewed her as a threat, but came to view her as a friend after realizing her work was mandatory, and that’d she’d surrender the very moment they showed up to fight her every time.)

Azure (OC: A void dragon appointed by the Underworld’s king to punish souls deemed unfit for the worst of the Underworld. Due to the souls being sent there being very rare and barren, void dragons often spend their time in human form lazing about and playing games in a mansion they made in the void, or the outside world. Azure, himself, isn’t much different. Often spending more time outside the void, than inside. He’s a laid back soul who enjoys playing pranks, and hanging with Rose and Nis, and his sister, Azul. He has a pet stone that he aptly named ‘Stone’, who is completely sentient and talks back, but to only him.

Azul (OC: A void dragon appointed by the Underworld’s king to punish souls deemed unfit for the worst of the Underworld. She’s Azure’s younger sister, and tends to stick by his side, for the most part. She shares his same sense of mischief, but is a little more energetic about it, being more eager to get involved, instead of waiting for the chance to come to her. Like her brother, she spends a good chunk of her time playing games with Rose and Nis.)

Rose (OC: An underworld devil and Rose’s right hand-man. She used to be a human, before suffering an untimely death at the hands of those she once considered friends. Unable to move on, who soul rested in a forest, before being recruited as an underworld soldier by the reaper. She now works at Nis’ side as a dutiful soldier…even if the monarch’s lazy tendencies tend to stress her out, a bit. Because of her being somewhat easily ticked off, Azure and Azul tend to playfully tease her a lot. This, of course, annoys her, but it never goes far.)

Violet (OC: A laid back swordswoman who left a town run by a corrupt kingdom to explore the world at her leisure, having been inspired by her friends at her childhood orphanage to find a better life. She explored the land with a sword in hand, and a carefree nature. When she’s not busy practicing swordplay, she’s finding quick jobs to make cash, so long as it adheres to her sense of morality, or crashing at places with anyone she’s found to be a friend, along the way.)

Mika (OC: A young magical girl who came from a ruined timeline where she was tricked by her magical girl contractors, the Miracle Mirans, into destroying all life on earth with illusionary techniques, making her think she was stopping monsters and saving the world, where instead, she was destroying everything on it. Horrified, she escaped into a different timeline where no such things had occurred, and managed to somehow settle back into a normal life…or so she’d wished. She still experienced horrific nightmares of her crimes, which makes sleeping for her incredibly difficult. Regardless, thanks to her having found a new group of magical girls to keep her steady, as her new friends, she’s finding it just a tiny bit easier to live a peaceful life, once again, in THE TOWN.

Haru (OC: A young magical girl who idolizes Shonen Manga and anime, such as Dragon Ball and Gurren Lagann. She fights crime with a fiery passion and will, while sometimes vastly overestimating how much will alone can do… It worked in Gurren Lagann, though! Her confidence aside, she was the first of the Magical Girls to meet up with Mika, and eagerly wished for her to be her teammate, until the two fought their first enemy together. After that, Mika relented and agreed to be in a team with Haru, in which the two celebrated with Karaoke, courtesy of Haru almost literally dragging her there. She’s aware of Mika’s past, but doesn’t bring it up to avoid making her uncomfortable, and defends her with all her heart and might.)

Lucky (OC: A young magical girl who became one of the world’s most rich individuals, as a result of her family being blessed with divine luck, and winning multiple lotteries over the course of their lives. She’s a friendly soul who became quick friends with Mika and Haru after become acquainted in school, and conveniently meeting up in the same place to fight a monster, when one showed up. Despite her immense funds, she never uses them as a way to make herself look better than others. Instead, she always uses her funds to try and help them/make their lives easier on them.)

Naomi (OC: A young magical girl who works as a part time shrine maiden. She’s incredibly serious when it comes to her work, both in magical girl duties, and out. She encountered the group of three magical girls in the middle of a losing battle, and jumped in to help. After a narrow victory, the group of three spent the next five weeks along her to join their group, in which she eventually relented after being saved by the three in a losing battle of her own. Due to her being the most serious of the bunch, she tends to butt heads with Haru, due to the other’s much more idealistic and joking nature… Regardless, she appreciates the company of all three, equally.)

Iamaslime (OC: The mayor of THE TOWN, who is a slime. He looks similar to that of the slimes in the world of Dragon Quest, and is incredibly lax with the rules of THE TOWN… Or in reality, lack thereof. There’s no actual rules, which explains why randomness and chaos is so apparent in this town. All forms of ‘authority’ are self-governed independent projects and have nothing to do with him.’)

Iamaslimetoo (OC: The mayor’s daughter, who looks similar to that of a slime girl from a certain half genie’s series. Like her father, she’s incredibly lax with the lack of rules in THE TOWN, and spends all her time relaxing, or hanging out at parties with her dad.)

John Gmod (OC: One of the two bodyguards for the mayor and his daughter, and the one with an actual sense of common sense. He’s consistently caught up in his partner’s shenanigans, and always ends up taking half the blame for the other’s nonsense, even if he had nothing to do with it. He wants to retire and move to Fiji, but with his current inability to hold onto funds, that dream seems like nothing more than a dream.)

John Dark Souls (OC: One of the two bodyguards for the mayor and his daughter, and the one who lack any sense of common sense. He’s consistently stirring up trouble, whether it be to him actively coming up with get rich quick schemes, attempting to show off in lame ways to get a date, like riding around THE TOWN in a tank, or just starting fights whenever it’s least beneficial for everyone. His dream is to have a harem and live as king of the world, but that dream is DEFINITELY just a dream.)

[calliesmemes]

THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF WARDROBES

SEND AN EMOJI; RECEIVE AN OUTFIT AND AN OPPORTUNITY TO GET TO KNOW MY MUSE.

Send both the EMOJI and the accompanying TEXT.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

🧳 [ suitcase ] — an outfit that your muse would wear on an ordinary day at work.

🎓 [ graduation cap ] — an outfit that your muse would wear on an ordinary day at school / university.

🗣️ [ silhouette ] — an outfit that your muse would wear to give a speech / for public speaking.

🕶️ [ sunglasses ] — an outfit that your muse considers “casual”, but they would still wear in public.

🎨 [ paint ] — an outfit that your muse would design for themselves if they had the technical skill to do so.

💌 [ letter ] — an outfit that your muse would wear to attract the attention of their desired lover.

🧠 [ brain ] — an outfit that your muse daydreams about wearing and wishes they could have.

🎲 [ dice ] — an outfit that your muse would wear in an alternate universe / “verse” / timeline of your choice.

🧣 [ scarf ] — an outfit that your muse would wear during the winter season.

🍁 [ leaf ] — an outfit that your muse would wear during autumn / fall.

☀️ [ sun ] — an outfit that your muse would wear during the summer season.

🏖️ [ beach ] — an outfit that your muse would wear to the beach.

❄️ [ snowflake ] — an outfit that your muse would wear when it is cold outside.

🎁 [ present ] — an outfit that your muse would wear for hosting a gathering for friends and family at home.

☘️ [ clover ] — an outfit that your muse would wear for attending a gathering for friends and family.

👑 [ crown ] — an outfit that your muse would wear for a “black tie” formal event.

✈️ [ plane ] — an outfit that your muse would wear for some sort of travel.

🗡️ [ sword ] — an outfit that your muse would wear for a training session.

💎 [ diamond ] — an outfit that your muse would wear to a celebratory ball.

🤢 [ sick ] — an outfit that your muse hates with a burning passion and absolutely would not be caught dead wearing in public.

🎭 [ masks ] — an outfit that your muse has worn on stage during a performance.

🎤 [ microphone ] — an outfit that your muse would wear to a concert.

🔥 [ fire ] — an outfit that your muse would wear when they want to look hot / attract attention.

💰 [ money ] — an outfit that your muse spent the most to acquire / identifies as the most expensive in their wardrobe.

🪦 [ gravestone ] — an outfit that your muse would wear for a funeral of a family member or friend.

🚪 [ door ] — an outfit that your muse would wear while lounging around on a lazy day.

👎🏻 [ thumbs down ] — an outfit that your muse regrets purchasing or acquiring.

💪 [ muscles ] — an outfit that your muse would wear to exercise.

🪩 [ disco ] — an outfit that your muse would wear to party at the club.

🛌 [ bed ] — an outfit that your muse would sleep in.

🪭 [ paper fan ] — an outfit your muse owns that has some sort of cultural significance.

💕 [ two hearts ] — an outfit that has a deeply personal meaning to your muse.

🔮 [ crystal ball ] — an outfit that has some sort of symbolic meaning tied to your muse’s character development or narrative arc.

💍 [ engagement ring ] — an outfit that your muse would wear for their wedding.

✏️ [ pencil ] — an outfit that your muse has worn during a scene that we have written or discussed together.

⚔️ [ crossed swords ] — an outfit that your muse has worn, for whatever reason, during a time of war.

⛓️ [ chains ] — an outfit that your muse has worn during a traumatic event.

[theartisticpixelbit]

It is finally time, after 2 years, Riley once again has a new reference. I am extremely happy with this one. The layout of everything was the hardest part for me... I might keep this sort of style for Yuki's ref as well, just with different elements. »——-«══✿═╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞═✿══»——-« [Image ID: A detailed digital character reference sheet for a Marvel Spider-Verse OC named Riley Dominique, alias The Prismatic Peacock-Spider. The background features a pink to blue to green gradient with polka dots. Riley's appearance includes orange wavy hair styled with space buns, green and blue eyes a beauty mark under her left eye, a pink choker necklace, a green hairclip, and silver hooped earrings. She wears a pastel rainbow striped sweater over a tank top and a pleated white skirt with a bubble chain with black bike shorts underneath, paired with blue and green striped socks and teal glitter sneakers. Next to her is her Spider-Bot who is roughly soccer ball sized. The Spider-Bot is named Kaleidescope, Kal for short. Kal is pink, black, and white with green and blue lenses for eyes. Riley's spider suit incorporates the colors pink, green, blue, black, and white. It features a built-in hood, with the interior of the hood being pink. The lenses in her mask are blue and green. Additionally, the suit is equipped with four iron spider legs attached to the back. Her shoes are equipped with LEDs emitting blue and green colors. A bust drawing depicts Riley in her suit with her hood lowered, her spider sense activated, manifesting as peacock feathers.]

[withclawandvine]

GOT LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD — the wrong place at the right time

summary: Elain was supposed to be in paradise with her fiancè, not alone at an airport bar, held hostage by a storm. Lucien was only supposed to be in Las Vegas for a few days on business, before flying back home on the Vanserra jet. They weren’t supposed to meet, but fate is funny like that.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59610724/chapters/152036788

author’s note: happy @elucienweekofficial !!! i had SO MUCH FUN writing this one. it’s all a modern au, obviously, but the other prompts are woven in! i had every intention of posting a chapter per day(ish) this week, but i went to the george r.r. martin school of writing, so…. that didn’t happen lmao but here’s the first of the planned five parts to get the ball rolling !!

The moment the wheels of the 757 traveling south from San Francisco to Las Vegas touched down, the sky split open, unleashing a seasonal monsoon with wind speeds and torrential rainfall surpassing any other that year.

Most people would consider it a stroke of good luck — a small miracle, even — that plane hadn’t been struck from the sky by a bolt of lightning.

Elain Archeron knew better.

She knew this storm was just one more incident in the chain of mishaps shackled to this vacation.

First, there was Graysen unceremoniously breaking their engagement two months ago, leaving Elain with a voluminous white gown taking up all the room in her closet, a box of unaddressed invitations collecting dust, and a nonrefundable booking for an all-inclusive luxe resort in St. Barts — the Christmas gift Gray had insisted she take for herself and a friend, all with that heavy dose of that new money condescension he was so versed in.

If she’d been smart, Elain would have given the tickets to the retired couple next door, but instead, she’d called Feyre.

Her little sister had suffered her own heartbreak earlier in the year, and although she pretended to be over it, Elain knew she was still reeling. Tamlin would have never let Feyre leave the country without him. Or, more accurately, Tamlin wouldn’t have let Feyre leave the backyard without him.

So it felt exceptionally cruel when Ferye called, voice weak and miserable, to tell Elain she had food poisoning and wouldn’t be able to make the trip. Hell, she’d lamented. I’ll be lucky if I make it out of the bathroom anytime soon.

With her plane departing in a few hours, Elain knew her only choice was to either call the whole thing off, or go it alone.

She enjoyed solitude; she liked gardening alone, and was a lunchtime regular at the little cafe down the street. But in the weeks since moving out of Graysen’s townhouse, she’d been spending most of her time confined to her new apartment, and if it went on for much longer, she’d evolve into a Gothic heroine.

She knew she needed a change of scenery, lest she start clawing at the wallpaper.

A man taking a sharp corner without looking up from his phone narrowly avoided a head-on collision with Elain; instead, he clipped her suitcase, wrenching it from her hand. It clung to the stranger’s carryon for a few paces, then dropped to the floor.

Before it could get swept up by the chaotic and restless crowd, Elain snatched the handle of her suitcase and righted it. The bag wobbled, then settled crookedly to the right. Within seconds of realizing he small, black wheel on the ground near it did in fact belong to her luggage, someone’s foot sent it skittering over the tile.

Elain watched it pinball out of sight, unable to contain her sharp, deranged laugh.

Just like that, the trip had gone from unfortunate to downright cursed — that little wheel was no mere inconvenience. It was an omen, just as powerful as any broken mirror or bolt of lightning. Clearly, the universe was trying to tell her that a hurricane was foredoomed to materialize on the first day of her stay, and wash her away by the third. Or that the long-inactive volcano would spontaneously erupt. Perhaps the plane would evanesce into the Bermuda Triangle.

She should have stayed home. She wanted to go home. Spend the next ten days of her hard-won PTO rewatching Bridgerton. Make a batch of her famous death-by-chocolate brownies and an espresso martini. Get petty satisfaction out of knowing how much of Graysen’s money was being wasted.

But as it was, Elain wasn’t on her way to an island or her Bay Area apartment; there was only one place she could go right now.

She all but stomped, her suitcase limping awkwardly behind her, in the direction of the nearest bar.

Elain collapsed onto a barstool and ordered something sweet, tropical, and strong. The bartender looked annoyed by her lack of specificity, but had the good grace not to say anything about it as he shook up then presented her with a mango mojito with an extra shot of rum.

Elain closed her eyes and took a sip, imagining she was basking in the sun as the tide lapped at her brightly-pedicured toes.

Her conjured serenity dissipated when she felt someone settle into the stool beside her.

A man in a perfectly tailored suit flagged the bartender. It was the kind of suit that spoke of money and importance — the kind of suit that ordered top-shelf whiskey, neat.

So Elain couldn’t help but look to him in surprise when he said, “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

Sensing her attention, he turned his head to flash her an easy smile, shrugging as if to say What about it?

He was captivating; his sharp suit so at odds with his long hair, tied back in a way that was almost thoughtless. Artfully messy, with a few loose strands framing a face made up of pointed features that screamed mischief. A scar, now faint with age, was carved into the left side of his face from brow to jaw, pulling slightly at the corner of his mouth. That mouth — the only soft part of his face.

Elain watched him take a hearty drink of his cocktail.

“That’s fucking delightful.” He said this to Elain as if she’d been the one to make it for him, not just put the idea in his head by sipping on her own. To the bartender, he said, “We’ll need two more of these, please.”

She blinked at him. “We?”

“What?” His smile was a little lopsided and a lot teasing. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

When Elain gave the waiting bartender a thumbs-up, the man’s smile grew.

God, he needed to keep that thing in check.

He extended a hand. “I’m Lucien.”

She took it, letting his fingers engulf hers. “Elain.”

He repeated her name to himself softly and fondly, like they do in the movies.

“Well, Elain, where are you supposed to be right now? Assuming a bar in the Las Vegas airport wasn’t your final destination.”

Maybe it was that second mojito, but telling Lucien the story about Graysen dumping her within weeks of their big, romantic getaway, and months of their wedding was surprisingly easy.

“So yeah,” she shrugged, stirring the melting ice and crushed mint around the glass with her straw. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” Lucien agreed, pushing a water she didn’t even notice him ordering at her.

“What about you? Were you in town for business or pleasure?”

“First it was business.” He flashed her a secretive smile, “Now it’s a pleasure.”

“Well, it must have been one nightmare of a business trip if this is your —”

Elain’s phone buzzed on the counter.

ATTN: Flight MAF608 LAS to MIA has been POSTPONED until 6:00 AM PST. For more information, reply HELP

Elain set her phone back down, then, without uttering a word, slid the water away, giving herself enough room to let her forehead fall to the countertop with a dull, defeated thud.

“Everything alright?”

She turned her head enough to look at Lucien with one eye. “I am going to die in this airport.”

He picked her phone up. “You’re going to die in the next…” he squinted at the screen, “ten hours?”

“If I’m lucky,” she grumbled, “it’ll be in the next two.”

Lucien’s laugh was rich and bright. Elain wanted to be annoyed at him for laughing at her misery, but the sound was so perfectly joyous, she could only manage a half-hearted pout.

“You’re laughing,” she said. “I’m going to spend the night on this barstool and you’re laughing.”

A prospect that still somehow seemed more dignified than calling Graysen to ask for money to cover a night in a hotel. The only reason she could go on this trip in the first place was because of his fancy tech job and guilty conscience.

“The business I was in town for,” Lucien said, making a show of snuffing out his laughter and becoming serious. “It was with a hotel on the Strip that my family does business with. I can make arrangements for you to stay there.”

Elain smiled, even as she shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but —”

“Please,” he insisted, sweeping up her tab with his own, and placing a black Amex on top. “It would be no trouble at all.”

[godlizzza]

could we get more of people assuming that Dan or Herbert are straight and married to a woman? Because art truly does imitate reality

"And what're you two gentleman in town for?" the worker behind the hotel check-in desk asked brightly.

He was a chipper man of about forty, whose nametag read Dennis. Dan smiled in return while Herbert milled about at his side, flipping through brochures on local restaurants and frowning at the pictures as though they'd personally offended him.

"We're here for a work conference," Dan replied, handing over his ID.

Dennis took it and began rapidly typing away at his keyboard. "Oh, yes! I heard about that. The medical conference, correct? I think we have a few other guests who're attending that as well. Quite a few people are staying past the weekend though. Having a holiday away from home." He gave Dan a conspiratorial smile and stage whispered, "Men are always looking for excuse to get away from the wife for a few days."

"Oh, yes," Dan replied, grinning when Herbert lifted his nose from the brochure to glare at him, stony-eyed. "If only I could escape that ol' ball and chain more often."

"Funny," Herbert muttered, and Dan winked in answer.

Dennis was too busy looking at the computer screen to notice. He turned his head towards Herbert and said, "You're here for the conference as well, Sir?"

"Well, I'm certainly not here for the company," Herbert bit back, still looking at Dan.

Dennis laughed like this was typical, friendly banter. He slid their room key across the counter and Herbert swiped it up before Dan could reach, stuffing it into the pocket of his slacks.

"I went ahead and fixed that booking error for you," Dennis said brightly. "You'll have two doubles instead of the one king now."

"Oh, goodie," Herbert droned and Dan had to bite down on his knuckle to keep from laughing. "Maybe now I'll get a good night's sleep without being kicked to death." He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and began walking off, towing the bag behind him. He called out to Dan over his shoulder, "Come along, Dear."

Dan lingered back long enough to watch Dennis register Herbert's words and his mouth drop open, before racing after him down the hall, snickering like a kid playing ding-dong-ditch. He caught up with Herbert just as the elevator doors dinged open. They piled inside, their bags making it a tight squeeze, before they were ascending to their floor.

"You're funny," Dan said, hooking his finger through one of Herbert's beltloops and tugging him closer.

Herbert allowed his hip to bump against Dan's but kept his arms firmly crossed over his chest. "I wasn't joking. You can sleep on your own tonight."

Dan blinked at him, and when Herbert didn't smile, he felt dismay well up inside him. "What? Nooo. Come on, I was just kidding around."

"I wasn't. You really do kick in your sleep."

"Herbeeert...Honey, you know I don't sleep good without you."

"Hmm. How unfortunate."

The doors dinged open on their floor and Herbert swept out of the elevator, not looking back once. Dan pouted as he followed, anticipating he'd have to do some grade A groveling to get Herbert in bed with him that night. Luckily, after being married as long as they had, he was well-versed in it by then.

[ome-magical-ramblings]

An Updated index to my blog

(updated 24-10-2023) (updated 27-05-2024) I figured out people might have wanted a more of a "guide" or "index" to my blog that might be more preferable than just letting someone dig through my blog, I will be updating this blog overtime. I also offer tarot reading and magical spell/ritual service depending on consultation, divination, and figuring out your country's currencies and adjusting my rates and the task at hand, throwing that out of the way if you are thinking about that. I do magical service and readings for pay, you can contact me and ask me about it if you're wondering. Book Review: Greatness of Saturn, A Therapeutic Myth My free publications: Sandalphon: Archangel of Malkuth Sandalphon's spirit portrait by @desdemonasarchives Business and Money Psalms Magic for Traveling Long distance Kefizat Haderech/Tay Al Ard Virtue of Quranic VersesFour Wheels of The Enchiridion

Akshaya Tritiya and A Collecting of folklore Quranic benefits,

Prayers, rituals: Prayer for knowledge/studying(Occult/Mundane Knowledge) Dream Oracle Adam's Prayer Liber Resh PGM-based Qi Ball and Helios Rite Invocation of Light Hagith's Home Sweetening Ophiel's Mercury Retrograde Mitigation Ritual Stick Pad's Divination Affordable 7 days candle where you can't buy it Visualization Advice from Ophiel New Memory Improvement Spell from Grimoire of Pope Leo Prayer of Crowns Arabic Translation The Ladder and Spring for Scrying elemental Kingdoms Kerubic Prayers for 4 stations of the sun. Virtue and Spells to the see the Prophet(Mohammed) Setting Light into the Past, for Spells, Ancestors and Beyond. Magical usage of Prayer of Crowns Incense Series ( Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 ) More new stuff Offering and Salutations to the Teachers practice, outline, and technique. Contacting Ophiel with Pen and Paper.

Praying with Flowers and St Justina

Wish fulfilling power of Verse of Throne

Log and record of practice:

Signs of Witchcraft ( Part 1 , Part 2 )

Spirit Stealing Offerings

Radionics Magical experiments

Elelogap's Purification work

7 Weeks of Arbatel/Olypmic spirits work

Geometric Entities and 3d polygons-like nature spirits.

Daimon of Sodom's Apple ( Part 1 , Part 2 coming soon )

Hagith's Flower

Grimoire of Sixfold star's Series: The Method Elnafi( Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , finale ) Rimori( Part 1 ) halting 44 days of Psalm 119

Scrying The Elemental Kingdoms Method ( Air , Earth , More Air , More Earth , Water! , FIRE ) Meeting Angalaparameshwari! Thoughts and contemplations:

In Praise of Mistakes and Mishaps

craft on oil/consecrated oil

Magical results and time scale.

Variance in magical languages and Pronunciation Circumambulation Magical Rings Closed Practices, Initiation, and gate-keeping practices. "the most powerfull exercise you did", Stacking prayers, and praying with spirits and entities. Concept of Werd/Daily Recitation or prayers.

ABLANATHANALBA's formula breakdown and experiment ( Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 ) At a Crossroad The power of the Cross The Crossing of Magical Currents Purification Practice Sincerity and Severity and advice for spirit communication. Being Hard on oneself and other. Sadness, Disappointment, and 3 of Swords God does not burden any soul beyond its capacity. The Golden Chain, lineages, egregores...and the open secret to initiation Linguistic Breakdown of Prayer of Crowns In Memory of Dr Leon Wright. By Letters, Words, and Names. Prophets, Mounts, and Open Secrets/ initiation To Be Silent and Pearl Clutching. Good Deeds, Virtues don't sell. Lineage of Spirits(A rope from spirits and a rope from people) Enjoy your Practice. Wisdom, Torah, Tear, Tarot. Shem Angels, Guardian angels, and Natal spirits.

Restitutionism: Praying For and with the Spirits.

Love Elemental-astrological Talismans

Chaldean Oracle 147, Gate of Man and Immortals, Cancer/Capricorn and Daniel in the bible. Retrospective: Practice from a length and at a length.

Previously public services: ( I might make more in the future, stay tuned ) St Expedite Work Ganesha's Working ( Part 1 , Part 2 ) St Cyprian and Aratron

[psychotic-nonsense]

Thinking about VG!Eddie with one of mine and my dad's favorite songs: "Nobody Wants to Hear Songs Anymore" by Ben Abraham (recommend listening to it first it's got a nice sound and neat little twist that me and my dad laugh about all the time)

Rambling bc I can't leave anything be ever

- - - - -

I'm gonna animate this some day so scene by scene replay as follows:

First two verses are imagined scenarios by Eddie, dreams that are too soon tainted by reality again.

First verse) Eddie as a little kid, laying in bed and making that first wish. An angel does come down, looking like his mom, and he gets a brief moment of being held in her arms. But soon his mom's face falls, and she floats back up into the sky as Eddie scrambles for her to come back. Reality takes over and we see he's clutching a small silver ring, his mom's.

Second verse) An older Eddie, around sophomore year. He writes his song, shedding a few tears along the way. He invites the person - featureless at first - over to the trailer and performs it on his acoustic, all emotion and purity and vulnerability. But as he finishes, his face falls as he sees the person is disinterested. Their features come into focus, as Steve just shakes his head and fades away. Reality comes back, and Eddie's sitting on his bed alone with the book full of lyrics. Angrily, he snaps it shut and holds it close to his chest.

Third verse, first two lines) Eddie's fight with the bats. He stands tall but is inevitably taken down, landing straight into Dustin's lap. He struggles to breathe, but still gives Dustin one last smile. As he dies, he sinks down into the ground, floating lifeless in that mind void beneath the water. His features shift into place, wings and claws and tail and black skin.

Last three lines) Eddie wakes up, pleading for freedom. He thrashes and fights the water, but keeps getting pulled down. Flashes of moments throughout the story play around him, but he keeps pushing through. Until one freezes him solid, so loud and jolting and painful that Eddie gives up completely. A black solid muzzle with chains wrap around his mouth and pull him further into the water, and he just goes with it.

Fourth verse) Set near the latter half of Vecna's Generals storyline. The Imprisoned in their cave, all watching Eddie with varying levels of concern. He's sickly looking, laying down in a curled up ball facing the rock wall. Chrissy sits next to him, trying to provide comfort by rubbing his shoulder, but she knows it's not working. Eddie sings this last verse to himself in tears, completely dejected and tired, giving up.

[just-horrible-things]

‘Verse: Resistance AU: Chewtoy, Alt: Bad End

4 - Whip [First | Prev]

It takes a long time before she's able to stop squirming and hurting herself. Before she's able to find some balance on the balls of her feet that only just reach the concrete when the chain is vertical in the very centre of its arc. To find the right angle, the right tension in every part of her trembling body to afford her broken arm the slightest reprieve from her body weight. 

The blood trickles down her front, painting vertical tracks of red over the horizontal lines of scars. Her voice grows hoarser and hoarser. The gaps between howls where she gasps for air get shorter.

Riven gets himself a cup of water from the sink, then takes a trip to the break room to get another coffee instead, and comes back.

Maybe she's a little high on the chain if it's taking her this long to right herself. 

He lets it out a little, just enough for her to get her feet flat and stop staggering back and forth. Not that she thanks him, of course. Stubborn bitch. He cranks it one notch higher, then another, bringing her back up on the balls of her feet again – but not straining quite so hard for it. 

She takes the reprieve about how he expects – with deep shuddering breaths and as much stillness as she can muster.

He makes a bit of a show of unclipping the whip from his belt and uncoiling it in front of her. She watches with dull hostility, but she can't hide her dread. Her breath gets shallower, faster. 

His daily carry is shorter than the full bullwhip and doesn't cut as deep, but he wants the easier precision. There's time to really lay her open later. The hardened tip still splits skin.

As he walks round behind her, she twists and cranes her head back between her arms to try and follow. Yeah, this is a better height. She's got a little bit more room to try and keep her balance.

The first lash snaps across her calves, just testing the edges of her resolve. She exhales a sharp sound of pain, then a half-stifled sob, but she doesn't flinch away.

“Good.”

His instinct is to keep the strikes horizontal, parallel with her existing stripes. So he goes with that. Why not. Another slice across the calves, then one across the back of the thighs. More pained gasps, but no motion more than twitches. She's had a good education in holding still. 

He swings the whip low across the floor. The angle on the first attempt isn't quite right, and the leather snaps against the concrete. She flinches and squeaks almost the same as if he had hit her, and Riven laughs.

On the second try, his aim is true. The whip strikes hard across the soles of both feet. She literally jumps, higher than he would have guessed she still could – and then lands, stumbles, howls as it wrenches her arms.

Across the back of the thighs again while she's still staggering, and again, testing whether she can regain her footing despite it. She can. Not instantly, but she can.

“Good,” he praises again.

She's still trying to glare daggers at him, but her eyes are flooded with tears. 

Again across the thighs, just below the ass. Again across the calves. Low, and it clips the concrete and spends some of its force before it hits her feet, but it's still enough that her flinch makes her scream.

Again, again, again, up and down her legs, and she watches with her head craned back but predicting where the whip will fall does her no good. She can't avoid it.

A strike to the back of her knees sets her stumbling again. Her feet are a winner every time, no matter how much she grits her teeth and tries to prepare. Blood dribbles down her skin to paint the floor beneath her with smudged, bloody prints. 

Riven circles, hitting her from all angles. Painting red across her shins and the front of her knees. She's gonna be grateful to be allowed to kneel on those stripes when he lets her down.

Occasionally he lands a lash higher, just to keep her guessing. Vertically up her spine. Across her chest, cutting into the softer flesh there. Across her stomach.

Her voice is failing on her, just like he predicted. Not gone yet, but hoarser and hoarser and cutting out at unpredictable intervals. She stops watching the whip. It isn't helping her anyway. Instead her eyes fix on some nothing up in the corner of the ceiling.

When her squeals dull to exhausted gasps and grunts, Riven finally lets the whip lick higher still. The tip of the leather, the hardened section that moves fastest and cuts deepest, lands squarely over her broken arm. She squeals – and then passes out. 

For a few seconds she's limp, dangling helplessly from the chain. Then, as she comes round, she squirms and twitches and starts to thrash. It takes her a minute to find her footing and her grip on the chain.

He does it again. 

By the time she's steady again she's sobbing hysterically, sounding like she can barely breathe. The noise is sticky and wretched with snot and tears. 

As Riven closes in she whines a barely decipherable “ple-e-e-easir–!”.

Riven hums, pleased, and runs his hands down her sides. Her head is still tipped right back, almost upside down, her mouth open wide to gasp for air. He drags a thumb across her cheeks and over her upper lip, leaving a smear of her blood.

“-- lea - e - e-eas –” 

Smiling, Riven strokes up her arm until he feels the swelling beneath his fingers, the heat through the thin leather of his gloves. 

“That's my girl,” he purrs. “That's the girl I know, hm?”

She sobs, and sobs, eyes distant with desperate exhaustion. 

Riven's fingers trail up and down her forearm, just barely grazing the swollen skin. He finds one of the new cuts and traces that, fresh blood still slick under his fingertips.

“Remembering how to beg?” he prompts. 

When he doesn't get an answer he digs his fingers in, just enough to draw a moan from her throat.

“Beg. Me. For mercy,” he commands, breath low against her upturned face.

She whimpers, but she doesn't answer. She just stares with vacant, terrified eyes.

Maybe she's just had enough for today. But anger flares hot and ugly in Riven's chest. He squeezes hard enough to make her yell, and steps back. He doesn't have to hold back anymore. He doesn't have to play careful with her feelings. She doesn't get to set her own limits anymore. 

The whip makes her scream. He doesn't stop when she loses consciousness. She comes round to the lash still falling. 

Under the sustained assault she loses all semblance of control. She squirms and struggles, and goes limp, and wakes and struggles again, and Riven lays into her until his arm burns.

He only stops when she goes limp and stays that way for more than a handful of seconds. Then he throws down the whip, stalks to the wall, and disengages the ratchet to let the chain run freely. Ari crumples like a corpse, an undignified tangle of limbs and bleeding skin. Riven watches until she starts to stir.

Then he stalks over and toes her in the ribs to get her attention. She doesn't look at him. Her eyes are open and staring, but fixed on nothing.

“Pussy,” he tells her. “Here I thought you could handle a little pain.”

He throws her over his shoulder to take her back to her cell. She convulses, but she doesn't have the strength left to meaningfully fight. 

Inside the cell, he dumps her down against the wall, then yanks her up by the cuffs. Her scream cuts off halfway, becoming a voiceless whistle. Riven clips her cuffs to the wall so that they're above her head with her on her knees. The right cuff is already embedding in the flesh as it swells around the steel.

Before Riven’s even let go of her she's flopped forwards against the wall for all the support it can offer. Her feet trail out behind her and he stamps hard on one to make her scream again. Her convulsion knocks her face into the wall and he hears her teeth clack together. His boot grinds down until her back arches. 

Then he leaves her. She needs at least a few hours to recover some wits. And he needs to cool off. Before he ruins her too fast. 

He sets Corey to watch Ari and make sure she stays up on her knees and doesn’t pass out and choke and die. Then he runs a finger down the current list of inmates. 216. That rat is basically waiting for execution. Riven can go break bones until his temper’s sated, and if the piece of trash dies after, no one will care.

[lisea18]

Title : Ball and Chain

Author : Lisea18 (me) 

Rating : E 

Pairing : Yusuf / Nicolò; Joe / Nicky 

Summary:

Today, Yusuf is getting married. Today, Yusuf is going to be mated for life. It’s what he always dreamed of… well… almost.

Art by the lovely Grimm18 ( @stop-all-the-clocks​ ) (go give them some love 💖)

Tags : Graphic Depictions Of Violence; Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova; Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani ; Nicky | Nicolò di Genova ; Alternate Universe ; Alternate Universe - No Powers ; Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics ; Omega Verse ; slowish burn ; Top Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani ; Bottom Nicky | Nicolò di Genova ; Arranged Marriage ; Alpha Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani ; Omega Nicky | Nicolò di Genova ; Virgin Nicky | Nicolò di Genova ; Threats of Rape/Non-Con ; but no actual rape ; Attempted Rape/Non-Con ; (not by Yusuf) ; Penetrative Sex ; Anal Sex ; Scenting ; Nesting ; Knotting ; Mating Cycles/In Heat ; Rutting ; Verbal Abuse ; Breeding ; (but not to make children lol) ; Light Bondage ; (arms tied that’s all lol) ; Other Additional Tags to Be Added; if necessary I think I put everything planned that “needs” a tag; slowish burn, slight dubious consent, forced heat

If you enjoy the story, do let me know with a comment 😘

***

New chapter is up :)

[tashacee]

Triple threat 🫡

Au of your choice!

'how likely are they to go along with a prank'

I'm gonna go the Links in a Chain/Untarnished 'verse, which is essentially Aspects but, you know. Wild isn't a giant lion dude.

...

Although tbh the answer is probably the same for all!

-

Okay so individually, they're all up for a prank. They're fun guys with wicked senses of humour. But together?

They're on fire.

Unexpectedly, Hyrule is usually the one who usually comes up with the pranks. He's half fairy, after all, and while he's usually so very sweet natured, he has mischievous side!

He usually approaches Wild first. Legend can be grumpy and need convincing, but Wild has a sort of 'fuck it: we ball' vibe that means that he's usually on board with anything Hyrule suggests.

Then they go to Legend. They both wear him down and he sighs, pretends to ignore them, and then comes back half an hour later with a fully formed plan.

Together, they are unstoppable.

[captain-willard-1968]

Not Like Us (Shakespeare Version) by Sir Kendrick Lamar of House Duckworth:

(Pls note; this will not rhyme💀)

[Intro]

Psst, I comune with the dead

(Mustard on the beat, ho)

[Verse 1]

Ayy, mustard on the beat, ho

Deebo any poet whelp, ‘tis a free throw

Man down, retrieve an amberlamps, bid them ‘breathe, sir’

Nail a whelp to the cross, indeed, he shalt walk around like Teezo

What is with these foolish whelps attempting to see Compton?

The industry can loathe me, away with them all along with their mothers

How many foes dost thou have? Ist too many options!

Indeed, I am forwarding this body, proclaim me John Stockton

Thrash thy ass and conceal the Bible if the Lord be watching

Often thou must step up and beat whelps

Mandated specter, ‘tis I that ups the score with them

Biting my thumb at him, meanwhile, I know’ist he hast some ho in him

Brandish a blade on him, force shit, mock Death Row on him

Say, Drake, I hear thee likeliest them young

Thou best ne’r go to cell block one

To any wretch that discourses and they art in love,

Thou must hide thy child sister from him

They ‘claim to me that Chubbs ist the only one who retrieves thy hand-me-downs

Along with Party ist at the party picking at his nose now

And Baka hast an odd case

Why art he around?

Mandated Lover Boy? Mandated PAEDOPHILES

Wop, wop, wop, wop, wop, Dot, do away with them

Wop, wop, wop, wop, wop, ‘tis I who does mine stuff

Why art thou conniving like a whore, aren’t thou aweary?

Attempting to strike a chord, perchance ‘tis A minor

[Chorus]

They art nought like us, they art nought like us, they art nought like us

They art nought like us, they art nought like us, they art nought like us

[Verse 2]

Thou thinkest the San Francisco province ist going to let thee disgrace their knight Sir Pac, whelp?

Methinks that Oakland show shalt be thy last stop, whelp

Thy put a plague on Cole, I know not why thou ist still feigning

What ist the owl? Bird whelps along with bird wretches

The audience be not foolish

Mold the stories however thou want, hark now, Drake, they are not slow

The rabbit hole be still deep, I canst go further, I swear

Is that not something? B-Rad meaning wretch and thou ist Malibu’s most sought after

There is no law, sirrah, thou art a ball sirrah, go and fetch Gatorade or something else

Since 1609 I hast these wretches jumping

Thou whelps shalt get wedges, shalt be flipped over thy trousers

What dost OVO stand for? The “Other Vaginal Option”?

Marry?

Whelps must straighten thy postures, reached fame hood in Compton

Perchance compose this for the title of ‘Doctor’, proclaim unto that pop star stop hiding

Forget a caption, crave action, nay accident

I am hands-on, he fools around, get dispatched

Intercoursed with Wayne’s maiden whilst he were away, ‘tis conniving

Then got face art like a wretch apologizing

Art I happy DeRoz’ is back, ye didst deserve him neither

From Alondra down to Central, thou best not discourse on Serena

And thou brethren must be subpoenaed, that predator moves in flocks

His name must be registered and placed unto village watch

I put pressure on you whelps like another line of Wock’

Aye, all eyes on me, and I am going to deliver it up to Sir Pac, ayy

Force the wrong label on me, indeed, I shalt have it dropped, ayy

Sweet Chin Music and I shan’t deliver the aux, ayy

How many stocks dost I truly have in stock?

One, two, three, four, five, unto five, ayy

The Devil be’ist a lie, he ist the 69 Lord, ayy

Freakish whelps must stay inside, ayy

Roll themselves up like a fresh pack of lettuce, ayy

The city is back up, ‘tis a must, we are outside, ayy

[Chorus]

They art nought like us, they art nought like us, they art nought like us, they art nought like us, they art nought like us, they art nought like us

[Verse 3]

Once upon a time, all of us were in chains

Man still spoke again and proclaimed us slaves

Atlanta, t’were the Mecca, constructing railroads and trains

Hark unto mine words but for a moment, hark unto mine council

The settlers were using townsfolk to make themselves wealthier

Look unto, 1624, thou hast the same plan

Thou flees to Atlanta when thou need’est a shilling balance

Allow me to make it smaller for thy brain, this be the true whelp contest

Thou called upon Future when thou didst see the club

Lil Baby mentored thou on thy language

21 bestowed thee false street cred

Thug made thee feelst like thou hast membership in thy head

Quavo discourses thou may be from Northside

2 Chainz discours’t thou fine, but he proclaimed false

Thou flees to Atlanta when thou need’st more shillings

Nay, thou art not a collague, but a falsifying colonizer

The family matter along with the truth of the matter

‘Twas the Lord’s plan to show ye the wolf upon the flock

[Bridge]

Mm

Mm-mm

He art a fan, he art a fan, he art a fan

He art a fan, he art a fan, he art a

Freakish whelp, he art a 69 Lord

Freakish whelp, he art a 69 Lord

Aye, aye, aye, flee for thy life

Aye, aye, aye, flee for thy life

Freakish whelp, he art a 69 Lord

Freakish whelp, he art a 69 Lord

Aye, aye, aye, flee for thy life

Aye, aye, aye, flee for thy life

Allow me to hear thee ‘claim “OV-ho!” (OV-ho!)

Proclaim “OV-ho!” (OV-ho!)

Afterward, step this way, step that way

Afterward, step this way, step that way

[Outro]

Art thou mine ally?

Art we focused?

Afterward, step this way, step that way

Step this way, step that way

[the-bar-sinister]

Chains of the Dragon (59149 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

-

October 4, 2028– 12:30 pm 

After almost two more hours of study with the princess, Trucy rubbed her temples. She'd been letting Rayfa quiz her on terms and procedures– and thankfully, getting a lot of it correct. 

Studying with Rayfa had been interesting, that was for sure. The young woman was well versed in the court, and its various intricacies like the divination seance– but it seemed occasionally that she’d falter on important words and the occasional concept.

Mostly, it seemed, when it came to the defense.

Still, she approached it with a kind of determined-to-help excitement that she seemed to try and quash into reservation at every opportunity. 

It was fascinating in its own way, and honestly a lot more fun than studying alone had been. But admittedly by now, she was losing focus. Even though she didn't want to admit it.

Her body betrayed her though– in a quiet moment, her stomach growled loudly.

Rayfa’s head snapped up, and her fierce and intensely alert eyes stared Trucy down for a strangely tense moment before she spoke. 

“I..” She held her hands up “I have been terribly rude, Attorney Wright. You’re hungry, are you not?” 

Trucy balled her hands into fists. 

"I can keep going! I'm tough!!" her stomach growled again and she hung her head. Honestly, she was feeling a bit dizzy. "Okay, maybe I'm a bit hungry."

Rayfa stood suddenly and offered her a hand up.

“L-let me take care of that. I’ll take you to the royal kitchen and have someone whip you u–” She paused for a moment, and twisted her looped braid around her finger. “Or is it more polite for me to cook it myself? Either way, please, follow me.” 

"Oh! Do you cook?" Trucy asked cheerfully. "Its something I've kind of been wanting to learn to do, myself. My daddy's great but he's a really lousy cook."

“Barbed head cannot do something as elementary as cook? Tsk…” Rayfa shook her head with a huff as turned and bent down to grab her cloak, buttoning it around her shoulders with a prideful smile. “I shall wow you with my cooking prowess, Miss Wright! Follow me! Perhaps you may learn more than just law in my company!”

With that, the young princess pushed out of the study.

Trucy happily followed Rayfa out into the palace halls, wondering if there was a way she could manage to tease her dad with 'barbed head' when she got back.

"I sure wouldn't say no! Maybe I could teach you a magic trick or two if you wanted. It's okay to share secrets if it's with an apprentice magician,."

Rafya walked with her hands folded behind her cloak, sneaking peeks at Trucy with wide and curious eyes that she tried to hide. She flushed and ducked her head. 

“Apprentice magician, me? ...mother would say it was a waste of my time when I haven’t learned all there is to know about leadership…but…”She bit her lip “yes? Yes please.” 

"Awesome!" Trucy bounced on her heels as she followed her. "We can do an exchange of skills. But– how come she'd say its a waste of time? I mean, if you wanted to tell me…"

Rayfa’s eyes glanced around…there were some guards in the hallway, who she looked up at with a slight downturn of her lips before she lowered her voice with a shake of her head.

“An exchange of skills seems amenable to me.'' She turned down a hall, past a tapestry of Khura’in’s…it looked like maybe a founding, going by the faceless woman and the masses…and a few old weapons kept free of dust.

“Mother gets disappointed when I become distracted,” she started in a quiet voice to Trucy. “I’ve already wasted too much time being raised as a…a spoiled housecat…when I should have been learning to carry the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. The responsibility of the people– their hopes and wishes for this country.” 

"That sounds like a ton of responsibility," Trucy murmured. "Is she a good role model? She must work herself to death, huh?"

“Of course it is!” Rayfa sniffed– the thought that it might be derisive died when she sniffed again “It’s what I was born to do, even if my father lived in disgrace, I was born to lead this country and give everything I had to the people.”

She placed her hand on her chest and intoned “What you want does not come first. Or second. Your people come first. The country comes first. That is the duty of a princess or a queen.”

The words didn’t sound like hers, not with how practiced they were, or the way her voice shook when she said them. “....” she fell quiet for a moment before she said “my mother works very hard…preparing me for the crown. She’s abdicated from the throne, however. Her time is spent undoing the m…mistakes of my fath—false parents.” 

"Oh." Trucy was starting to get the sense that there was a lot to unpack here. The question was, where to start. "Um…false parents?"

Rayfa hurried along, until they came to a dining hall, and shut the door behind them with a word to the guard to leave them be.

She took a deep breath. “Do you remember Queen Ga’ran and Inga? The victim and prosecutor of that case you attended.” 

"Yeah, I do remember them," Trucy said, biting her lip. "A little anyway."

“I was raised by them.” Rayfa said with a chilly coldness to her tone. “...Queen Ga’ran took me from my mother, and tasked her to raise me as a nanny…and Inga took me in as his daughter.”

"You were going to call him your father, weren't you?" she asked as she looked around the dining hall with curiosity. "A minute ago."

Rayfa jolted and her hand went once more to her heart. 

“N-no, of course not. I..He…” The young queen-to-be was shaking as she gripped her chest, “he spoiled me like a housecat , and left me struggling to prepare for the burden of rule. He was an evil man. Mother says…” 

Uhoh. This is above the Trucy Wright paygrade, but we're gonna fake it til we make it. This sounds a lot like when Mr. Edgeworth gets upset…

Trucy carefully approached Rayfa, and put her hands on her shoulders to steady her. "Rayfa… um, by spoil you, do you mean that he was nice to you?"

Rayfa jolted slightly, but she took soft, shaking breaths as Trucy’s hands settled against her quivering shoulders.

“Ah..yes. He was kind to me…he’d bring me things for my garden and for my room. He’d let me make him medicine and tell me all sorts of stories…he acted like he loved me, and cared for me…I thought he was a hero…but…but mother…” 

"Rayfa," she said her name again to ground her, hopefully. "Rayfa that's how a dad is supposed to act. He did that cause he's your daddy, no matter what else he was, okay? Blood isn't the only thing that makes family."

Rayfa sniffed softly, and Trucy heard her hiccup. 

“He was always there when I was upset. I didn’t know. I didn’t know what he was doing as the Minister of Justice.” She reached up slowly and wiped her eyes. “That is correct, Miss Wright. He’s my daddy. but my mother, she says he’s r-ruined me. That his s-spoiling made me unfit to do my duties without atonement and sacrifice.” 

She looked up at Trucy with watering eyes.

Trucy bit her lip. "Your mom– the one who's saying this…. she didn't like your daddy, did she?"

Rayfa shook her head. “n-no, Miss Wright. She did not. Even less than her sister, who she…she seemed to believe in until that…that verdict was handed down.” 

"I don't like to say this, but I think maybe some of her words here are coming from jealousy, or bitterness, Rayfa. That doesn't mean she doesn't care about you or anything like that. But those sound like destructive, tearing down words, not supportive, confidence building words."

Rayfa brought her balled up fists to her mouth “...destructive, tearing down words…?” 

"Words that make you feel bad about yourself, and tear down your feelings, instead of words that help you grow and learn," Trucy said patiently. She was no expert. It was above her paygrade. It was all pulled from daytime talk shows, things she'd heard Mr. Edgeworth saying, and old psychology books left around the apartment that she was pretty sure had been gifted to her daddy from Kristoph Gavin and ended up in her room as part of a… joke.

Rayfa straightened a little under her touch, her hands pressed over her mouth as she took another deep breath. 

“...I …I see.” She swallowed, Trucy could feel the way her back tensed before she said “My feelings are secondary to my duty as a queen, Miss Wright. I…I have to simply grow and learn no matter the s-sorts of words mother is fond of using.” 

"Well, I mean, we all have to grow and learn," Trucy said. "but your feelings shouldn't be secondary. I do get that being a queen is a huge deal though. Probably more important than even being a magician…"

Even being a magician as important as a Gramarye. But somehow she could still relate. Her conversation with Vera came to mind once more, the talk of responsibility and the weight of a legacy.

She knew how heavy that could feel on a girl Rayfa’s age, even if the weight couldn’t begin to compare.

“My feelings are secondary.” Rayfa said sharply, though Trucy heard the way it warbled without conviction “I’m secondary! Tertiary! It’s the country, the people…our faith that comes first. J-just like your magic, yes?”

The girl turned and looked up at her with watering green eyes “it’s my legacy, Miss Wright! I’m a queen first..”

And a person second. She didn’t finish it, but it was clear what she was trying to say. 

Trucy bit her lip so hard it almost bled. "And I'm supposed to be a great magician, not a lawyer," she said finally. "What do you want to be, Rayfa?"

Rayfa looked down, quickly and obviously trying to shut down her own answer. “it’s n-not proper of me to speculate on such things.” 

Trucy squeezed her shoulders. "Well, not everyone's proper all the time…"

Rayfa looked up at her with a quiver to her lip. She took a deep breath before she whispered 

“I don’t know for sure…but I am fascinated by the techniques Miss Skye performs.” Her head hung low “...I started to daydream about being like her…using s-science to solve mysteries and help others find justice outside of the divination seance.” 

"So, you want to be a forensic investigator?" Trucy said brightly. "That's so cool though. I totally love watching Ema– Miss Skye work too. Like I said, I'm supposed to be a magician, but my daddy… he's inspiring too, you know?"

Rayfa nodded shyly. 

“or something like it, yes…” Her hands twisted together, but something like a smile crossed her face again “i-isn’t it cool? Miss Skye is impressive…inspiring. J-just like my big brother on the prosecutor’s bench…or Mr. Apollo Justice when he defends. But I w-want to be like her. With the chemicals and the determining time of death and everything!!”

She took a breath, having not taken one in since she’d managed to speak her wish for who she’d want to be into the world. She composed herself before she smiled curiously. “...you are supposed to be a magician? I remember you talking about magic tricks when I ran into you…but you’re studying law…because of your daddy? Mr. Wright…”

"Yeah…" she fussed with her hat. "It's a pretty complicated situation actually. I'm supposed to be the heir to a great magician legacy. The greatest ever, really. And I'm supposed to carry on the tradition."

Trucy had wanted to. For a long time it was the only thing she had really wanted. To live up to the Gramarye legacy. To make her father– her magician father– proud of her in his absence. To be the person she'd been born to be. 

But lately the only thing she thought about when she thought of the Gramarye legacy was how much pain it had caused. Not just her– but everyone.

Mr. Reus had talked about them like they were a curse, and no matter how hard Trucy tried to find the joy she once felt… and the urge to make her birth father proud… all she could see was the blood and loss. Magnifi’s scheme, the division between ‘brothers’, abandonment… Thalassa… secrets, they were all part of a legacy of pain.

Rayfa watched her with big, green eyes. Her hands were clenched before her, balled into fists against the clasp of her ornate cloak as she listened and nodded. 

“...that’s a heavy legacy to bear” she murmured “...the greatest magicians ever…I would imagine it would leave you no time to follow in your daddy’s footsteps too, no?” 

She shook her head thinking about it. 

"No, not if I wanted to live up to the legacy. It'd be my whole life. It's been what I've been working toward for years, but…" Trucy shrugged. "There's a lot of bad stuff in the history that I've found out about."

It wasn't something she'd opened up about with anyone yet. Not her daddy. Not Pearl. Definitely not the De Famme sisters. Maybe it felt safer to tell a near stranger. Maybe there was just something like herself she saw in the sad young princess.

“Bad stuff in the history…” Rayfa’s fingers tightened around one another “yet it’s supposed to be your whole life. Meaning the burden of that bad stuff would fall upon your shoulders, yes?” 

Trucy let go of her, and she leaned heavily against one of the counters, sagging. "Yeah. And… everybody's done a lot of bad stuff to uphold this legacy. I'm afraid I'll start… doing something like that too."

Rayfa bit her lip “it’s a frightful thought, Miss Trucy Wright. A heavy thought, too.” She inched over and tentatively put her hand on her arm. “I understand the fear well…” 

Trucy leaned into her a little and nodded. "I bet. Seems like we kinda have a bit in common. If you don't mind me saying."

“I don’t mind in the least…” Rayfa flashed her a sad smile “it isn’t often I meet someone who understands. Much less one I can talk to so easily.”

She put her fingers to her chin, looking down, “If you don’t mind me saying, you’ve taken to law no? Does that mean you’re turning away from that difficult legacy?” 

Trucy hesitated. Did it mean that? She'd only volunteered to help out Apollo and Klavier– it wasn't as if she had any real intention of being a lawyer– did she?

She remembered all those times in court next to Apollo. The tension. The excitement. More surprising than a magic trick.

"I…" she began, and then closed her mouth. She couldn’t help but think about the view from behind that bench, the evidence making its grand debut to turn the case around. It was thrilling…and in the end, justice was done with a cloud of confetti and the smile of someone who came out the other side of the worst day of their lives.

And wasn’t that beautiful? The time she was in their shoes, standing behind the podium as a man told her she deserved to burn for the sins of her grandfather…she couldn’t help but compare. The Gramarye Secrets in their locked little book brought smiles to the faces of the crowd, and blood to the hands of those who kept them. How long was it until the legacy fell to her? Would Bonny and Betty become jealous of the secrets within the book?

Would Apollo? Or would yet another person her grandfather hurt crawl from the darkness to tear her down?

It was all she could see anymore when she thought of that grand stage.

“W-well…”

Rayfa was looking at her with a furrow of her brow and a small and worried pout. She had to say something.

Daddy had always been so supportive of her, and her magic acts. They had even helped support them while he was disbarred. But… he wasn't any more. He was a lawyer again.

Would he be proud of her, if she wanted to follow in his footsteps.

The Gramaye legacy. It was a legacy of cheering applause in the name of tricks and illusions. Smiles brought to people's faces, all while there was scheming and blood in the background that the audience would never know.

Except sometimes they found out anyway.

What would a Wright family legacy look like?

She thought of the marvelous turnabouts in court, and the smiles on the faces of the defendants whose whole lives and livelihoods her daddy and Apollo, and Athena had saved.

That happiness wasn't a trick, or an illusion.

She took off her hat, and put it on the counter beside her.

"Yeah. I– I'm turning away from that legacy," she said quietly, as her hair fell in her face. "I want to be more like my daddy– my adopted daddy– than the family legacy I was born to follow."

“Oh..” Rayfa’s hand suddenly touched her arm, thin fingers giving it a squeeze. Trucy could feel she was shaking again “that is very brave of you, Miss Trucy Wright.”

She took a soft breath “...Mr. Barb– Wright, I had many fights with him while he was here, but he helped me understand a truth that saved my brother and my country. To follow in the footsteps of your adopted father rather than the legacy you were born for takes strength…but I think in his footsteps, you will make an amazing lawyer.”

 "Thanks, Rayfa," Trucy murmured gently, leaning closer to her again. Her heart was beating fast, but there was a kind of lightness in her chest. Like a weight had been lifted.

The moment would have been more somber if her stomach hadn't growled again.

Rayfa leaned just the slightest on her for a moment…close enough that she startled when she heard the growl. She hopped back up and bowed deeply. 

 “O-oh! Ah…sorry…I had gotten so invested in our talk that I neglected the reason we came here.” Peeking over her shoulder at the kitchen, “I’ll prepare you the finest meal I can, please… have a seat. As thanks for telling me your story.” 

Trucy was grateful for the talk. And for her own resolution

But she was also deeply grateful for the distraction, too. She had a lot to think about.

"Thanks for telling me yours, too, Rayfa." She rolled up her sleeves. "Now!! Let's get cooking! You can tell me the stuff you need and I'll get it for you."

The young woman seemed to have a lot on her mind as well…there was a thoughtful furrow in her brow even as she put her hands on her hips with a broad smile “Alright! Be prepared! It shall be the finest meal you have ever laid upon your tongue!”

Her smile turned suddenly sheepish as she declared “I don’t know how to make anything but herbal teas and a simple curry. But it’ll be the best you’ve had! I swear!” 

Trucy laughed. "Herbal tea and curry sounds great!"

October 4, 2028– 12:40 pm 

Apollo noticed that none of them were letting each other out of their sight as they headed back into the palace together, and he wasn't exempt from it. He stayed close to Ema, Nahyuta and Kalvier as if they were a pack– as if an attack could come from any direction.

It really felt like it could.

I'm really not loving this whole random violence, 'Pollo.

Yeah, me neither… Do you think Klavier's nose will be okay?

Worried it's going to ruin his pretty good looks?Ema looked twitchier than usual– he noticed she was reaching for the pocket he knew she kept her cigarettes in, her fingers twitching nervously as she walked closer to him and Nahyuta.

Everyone was on edge…even Nahyuta. His expression was clouded, but why wouldn’t it be? His father’s movement was turning against him piece by piece.

Apollo wasn't surprised. Especially about Ema. Especially with what they'd been talking about, and what she and Clay had been talking about before.

As they passed through the quiet hallway, Klavier asked "So what do we do now" at the same time that Apollo had leaned over to Ema to say "We should have that talk."

Ema pulled out her cigarettes and tapped one out to place between her lips with a nod. 

“Yeah, we should.” She spoke up. “Nahyuta…we gotta talk to you in private.”

Nahyuta was silent, still staring off into the distance as he walked. Lost in his own head. 

Apollo startled– he hadn't expected her to want to include Nahyuta immediately. But he realized he shouldn't be surprised. 

"'Yuta?" he repeated, trying to shake him out of his head and back Ema up. He noticed Klavier cock his head with interest. Probably wondering if he was invited too.

Ema pulled her lighter out and looked at Klavier to whisper something to him. Klavier seemed to brighten, and nod.

Nahyuta shook out of it, blinking quickly to look down at him with a subtle smile. “Pollo…sorry. I was just thinking about the schism.” 

Apollo grabbed Nahyuta's hand. "Yeah, I thought so. Look– I think we should all regroup and talk about this stuff. Does that sound right to you, 'Yuta?"

Nahyuta sighed, and pushed his hand through his hair with a nod “....yes, I believe that’s for the best."

"Maybe somewhere a little more comfortable than an office, ja?" Klavier suggested. "Or at least less formal?"

“Less formal than an office?” Nahyuta closed his eyes. “...alright, I’ll take you to my bedchambers.”

“Forward, Yuta.” Ema puffed at her cigarette, the smoke curling into the bright blue sky above “sounds like a date.”

"Sadly not as much of a romantic mood as I was hoping earlier in the day," Klavier sighed. "But still, who knows what the day will bring?"

"We've already proven anything could happen," Clay grumbled. Apollo winced a little as it came out of his mouth. But he wasn't wrong.

Ema laughed sharply, and exhaled her smoke. “Yeah, we sure goddamn have.”

Nahyuta gave them a tired smile, and led them back to the palace and towards his room. 

A few minutes later they were settled there in the couches around the tea table. Apollo had sat himself next to Klavier, feeling bad about his nose and everything else, and Ema across from them with Nahyuta.

Ema gave Klavier another look of worry— made sense given she had a front row seat to the bruising that was setting in, before she took a deep breath. “so we all agree things are going to hell, right?”

“I would not put it quite so direly,” Nahyuta said as he folded his hands on his lap. “but they aren’t good.” 

"Mein prinz, I have to say public brawls with government officials over public policy is pretty dire," Klavier said.

Government officials?

He means us, 'Pollo.

Ema laughed tensely. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty dire when the brawls start, Yuta. Tempers are rising, you know?” Her fingers tightened on her lap “I think it’s time we had a frank talk about the viability of the system as it stands.”

Nahyuta sighed quietly “...I was afraid that was where this was going.” 

"It's hard not to talk about it," Clay said, rubbing the back of their neck. They felt sore– their own bruises already starting to form over their face and chest. "Especially now that the politics have come up."

Ema nodded slowly, rubbing gently at her forehead. 

“There’s a contingent of communists who want to rid the country of monarchist rule. Which, given the monarchy before you guys, I can see why they’re unhappy.”

Nahyuta frowned. “Yet we deposed Ga’ran and they didn’t speak then– they have waited until Rayfa has settled into her rule and escalated into violence.” 

Klavier raised his hand. "Ah, I was not here so forgive me– but did they have an opportunity to speak then? Were there perhaps messages that were ignored or intercepted, or anything like that?"

Apollo made a face. It was a fair question. "I have no idea."

Nahyuta’s eyes closed “I didn’t receive anything of the sort, though I admit…when the change in rule occurred, I was tasked with my prosecutorial duties and that sort of correspondence was handled by other parties. Interception is possible.”

Ema leaned her head back. “Great…which makes them think they’re being ignored, which makes them violent.” 

Apollo rubbed his chin. "Yeah, a lot of the stuff at the palace was being handled by clerks and things. Some of whom have been around a long time. It's possible they just… got rid of that kind of stuff, assuming we didn't want to see it. It wouldn't even have to be, you know, ill meaning."

"Just typical government paperwork, ja?" Klavier sighed.

“Precisely…” Nahyuta hummed quietly. “Which as Miss Skye stated, leads them to feeling ignored and thus more likely to take drastic measures.”

Ema gestured to Apollo and Klavier. “Which they’re already starting. Who knows when it’s gonna be something bigger than a fist to the face.” 

"Could be any time," Clay murmured.

Klavier leaned forward, putting his hands together. "So what do we do about that?"

“Weather the storm and reassure the people. Find a way to extend the branch of peace to the schism dragons” Nahyuta murmured “for the safety of Rayfa and her future.”

“Yuta, babe…” Ema spoke up. “...this could lead to Rayfa and you being executed if it gets bad enough.” 

"We already talked a little bit about that, didn't we?" Apollo murmured, leaning toward him. "We have to be realistic, politically, 'Yuta. You talk about weathering the storm, but what are we going to do? Put 50 Dragons who used to be our brothers in jail? Cause we can't let them run around inciting violence."

"For wanting political reform," Klavier added quietly.

Nahyuta winced, his lips tightening and his eyes staying closed as his arms crossed delicately over his chest.

“I don’t wish to imprison any of them for wanting reform…I don’t want that to be necessary.”

Ema tented her fingers “nobody wants to…but they’re inciting violence sure…but it is in the name of reform.” her voice shook a little as she continued “Nahyuta, I think we need to talk seriously about abdication. I KNOW you and Rayfa have been suffering these last few months. I know you don’t want this either!” 

Klavier cocked his head. "We spoke a little of this earlier, ja, Nahyuta? 'Yuta is a cute nickname by the way– may I?"

Nahyuta flushed very slightly and finally opened his eyes with a nod. 

“...of course. I’d like it if you did.” He took a deep breath “but we did…and I admitted you had a bit of a point.” 

Klavier smiled, and probably only Apollo and maybe Ema would notice the nervous edge to its bright gleam. 

"'Yuta– I'm an outsider here. I know that. But I have to say, things don't look good. You and your sister are being asked to run the whole country. Your clerks and administrators are full of people you're not sure if you can trust to pass on important messages. The people who supported you once are not stepping up to help you run the country, and half of them want you out of power. You really only have three ways this situation can go."

Apollo didn't like it, but he had a point. "Three ways?"

"First," Klavier said, "You can resort to tyranny. Lock up those who disagree with your regime. Use force where words will not do. Show them that your resolve and your regime is strong and unyielding. Make them bow to you as a leader."

Nahyuta’s fingers balled into fists against his sides as he nodded. “my aunt’s preferred method, yes.” 

"I am not suggesting its route, but it is effective," Klavier said. "It possibly the only effective route to cement your monarchy against those who want to abolish it, mein prinz."

"Okay, what are our other options?" Apollo asked. He could tell Klavier was putting on a show. Might as well help him out.

"The second option is that you continue as you have been. You continue to attempt to rule fairly and justly in a position in which you have no allies, and too much work, where your enemies are closing in on you and you refuse to raise your hand to them out of mercy, ja? That is the course that you are suggesting, mein prinz, and it is… unsustainable. It will come to a natural end, one way or another."

“You’ll fucking die.” Ema spat in frustration, her head still laid back against the back of the couch.

“Either through overwork or revolution, yes…” Nahyuta sighed, twisting his braid around his hand. 

"The third option is that you abdicate while the abdicating is good," Klavier said. "It is not as bad as it sounds. These communists– you say that they were your brothers until recently, ja? So you must have some trust in them. If they want so badly to run a free government, let them have it. Mein engel, it should not be on the shoulders of one brave man and a little girl to rule a whole nation, no matter how romantic the idea is in stories. I have read many of these stories, and so many of them end with brave dead men, and weeping little girls."

Klavier was in fine form. His words send a shiver through Apollo. It was amazing how much of a performer he was. How much weight his words carried.

Apollo didn't want to face any of this, but when Klavier said it, it sounded obvious.

Ema tensed, and her shoulders shook as she took a deep breath. 

“The glimmorous fop is right. I’ve been scared that was how this would all end since the first batch of dragons refused to help you defend or prosecute the other cases.”

Nahyuta was struck. At some point he opened his eyes, and at some point his fingers rested over his heart. “I…see.” he murmured in deep concern, “brave dead men and weeping little girls…”

"I don't know what Dhurke would have wanted in this situation," Apollo murmured plaintively to Nahyuta. "I don't know what he would have done– because he would never have been in this situation. But he's not here. I want to carry on his will, his dream, of returning Khura'in to its glory– but I don't know how to do that. Do you, 'Yuta?"

They realized with a start that there wasn't a meaningful distinction between Apollo and Clay right now. There had been earlier– it had been obvious, broad. But now Clay's feelings were his, and his feelings were Clay's. Apollo couldn't summon up the suicidal– yes, suicidal– willingness to die for Dhurke's cause now. Nor could Clay summon up the will to just… get up and leave.

Nahyuta’s cool demeanor wavered for only a moment, a look of terror and dismay in his eyes before he stilled it with a deep breath “...Dhurke would have continued fighting for the glory of Khura’in…I..”

His body went rigid as he muttered “I do not know how to do it, Apollo…but a dragon never yie—”

“The dragon fucking DIED!” Ema almost shrieked as she flung herself up from leaning her head back on the couch, looking over at him with wide eyes. “he died and dumped all of this on your laps without anything to support you!” 

"I– he didn't– that wasn't his fault," they sputtered. "Dhurke didn't know that the Defiant Dragons would fall apart like this,"

Klavier put his hand on Apollo's shoulder. "Ja, but they did. And you have to face that. If you want to fight, Apollo, 'Yuta– they you're going to have to actually fight. That is what I am saying." 

He stood up from the couch as he continued speaking, and he raised his chin. "It is not good enough simply never to yield. If you are under attack you can fight, or you can run. But you two are talking about simply waiting for the jaws to close around you as if that were noble. I like to think that I am a good man, justitia knows I have faltered, but if you bring out the tanks and the guns, I will lay down my pretensions to sainthood. I will support you if you choose to fight and refuse to yield. But I will not let you just let yourselves drown!"

Ema sighed and smiled up at him with a nod “that’s right…that’s damn right. You two can’t just sit here and drown. That’s not going to do anything for you, for Khura’in, or for Rayfa; It’s fight or run, and I’ll support you no matter what you choose.”

Nahyuta’s surprised eyes widened. They watered as he took a sharp intake of breath. “Fight or run.” he murmured quietly to himself. His whole body shuddered for a moment before he managed to speak.

“I will not let myself become another tyrant for Rayfa to suffer under.” 

Thank goodness.

They felt themself shudder as Apollo felt Clay– separate from him again, and triumphant– while all the air had rushed out of Apollo. There was a thickness in his throat. Had they really come all this way to let Dhurke's dream falter?

That's not what we're doing, Apollo. At a basic level Dhurke's dream has already come true, and you've done all that you can to support it. Let someone else take over now.

I guess. But it feels wrong.

Do you want Nahyuta and Rayfa to be killed? Do you want to be killed?

Me? You know I've thought about it.

I don't want to die again, Apollo. And I don't want you to die. Nahyuta won't fight– and he's right to turn from bloodshed. So we'll run. It's not our responsibility. It's not our mess.

Am I a coward for this, Clay? I feel like a coward.

You're no coward, my love. You're a hero. You're helping save their lives.

Apollo thought of Rayfa's fear and sadness under the assault of her mother's words. He thought of the dead flowers. He thought of Nahyuta hunched at his desk, and the time they;d been unable to spend together.

"For Rayfa's sake," Apollo croaked out. "Yeah. Yeah. We– we can't let her be used as some political token. We can't go to war to keep her in power for a position that's already killing her."

Ema nodded. “We’ve seen the way she’s been wilting, right? Between he way Amara’s been treating her, and the weight of the crown…she’s still a kid, dammit. And YOU Nahyuta…you’ve been crushed under it too.”

Nahyuta grit his teeth…a trail of tears leaked out from under the pale fringe of his hair as he took another deep breath. “I refuse to allow it. She’s had enough of being a tool for others to keep hold of this country. If…if abdication is the only way, then I will support it if the alternative is becoming a monster like my aunt– a woman twisted by this legacy of fire.” 

Apollo watched Klavier move toward the other couch, and he scrambled up as well, hurrying over to put himself practically in Nahyuta's lap as Klavier collapsed gracefully into a kneeling sit on the floor in front of the couch.

Apollo put his arms around Nahyuta's shoulders without a word.

"She deserves better than such a legacy, ja, mein engel," Klavier murmured. "and so do you. Let the communists have the country, ja? And you can have your own life. You are worth your own life."

Nahyuta looked in pain, Ema draping over his side with a plaintive look as he took several deep and steadying breaths. His fingers rested against his beads as tears flowed down his face in uneven trails, as if they had no well trod path to follow on the normally stoic man’s face..

“...We…we should speak to Rayfa.” he said in a low voice as he looked down at Klavier, leaned into the embrace from all sides. “If you all insist, if Apollo will yield…then I will yield as well. But we must speak to Rayfa.” 

Apollo held Nahyuta tight, his own breath hitching in his chest. "Should we do it now? Before we have time to change our minds? I– it hurts, 'Yuta. It hurts to think about. But all we've done here is be crushed under the weight of the world. I want to… I want to let Klavier win this one. And Ema."

Klavier, still on his knees, smiled gently. "Let us take you away from all this."

Ema nodded and squeezed his arm. “I promise, you’ll be happier. I know how much you love learning new stuff, Yuta…I saw how much fun you were having in LA.”

Nahyuta nodded “It hurts…very much.” He murmured “but let’s go now before I start to second guess. It’s true…I already miss travel, and the joy of experience.”

He offered a hand to Klavier to help him up with a quiet smile, framed by tears “I’ll accept this offer of salvation. Thank you.” 

Apollo wiped traces of tears from his own face as he stood up, and let Klavier help Nahyuta to his feet. "Yeah… thanks, Klavier."

"Any time. Promise." Klavier smiled as he pulled Nahyuta up, and Apollo let himself half rest on Ema's shoulder.

Apollo swallowed. "Let's go find Rayfa."