#dirt crew recordings

[myosotisa]

Chasm - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖  summary: You're a researcher working at one of the fault lines throughout Hawkins, studying the closed and dormant gates to an alternate dimension. While you're alone on site, one of the gates wakes up again.

‖  tags: horror. i cannot stress this enough. this is unsettling and creepy and angsty with slight sexual tension. in line with the content in the show. post season 4, canon compliant. emetophobia warning. dubcon kissing. forced consumption (writing it made me gag just warning you. but im also kind of a baby so). no y/n, she/her pronouns used. flayed!eddie infects you. open ended ending. also steve is there sometimes. there's a ton of background lore that is only vaguely explained lol

‖  word count: 8.3k ‖  read on AO3 ‖  the song ‖

None of the rifts have shown any activity in over a year. Months and months of dead readings and no signals. Just waiting.

So what's a girl supposed to do when your EMF meter spikes alone on site? Sit around and wait for a crew to suit up and march their way over to the fault you were at? No fucking way. No chance.

You report in about the sudden spike in gamma radiation and tell them you're going to find the source. The project lead tells you to stay put and wait for assistance, as expected.

Your radiation gear was already halfway on. Oops, sorry boss, didn't hear you.

Handheld voltage meter in one hand, audio recorder in the other, and a pocket full of glow sticks, you push out past the plastic tarps and into the humid night air of Indiana summer.

The readings bring you west, toward the condemned trailer park and the "start" of your fault line. You crack a glow stick and drop it every few feet, marking your path. When the reading jumps up, you make a '+' sign with two at the spot before continuing forward. It was hard to say without exact measurements, but it seemed to be increasing at equal intervals. Like frozen waves on the surface of water.

"I'm approaching the Forest Hills sign," you say into the receiver, your own voice the only sound in the night air. "Current readings are…" You bring the meter up, using the light hanging from your neck to read the display. "Approaching 70 mv/m of high frequency radiation, roughly 31016 Hz. The next… 'Layer', for lack of a better term, will most likely breach Safe EMF levels, not considering the potential protection of the suit."

Lowering the meter again when it gives a beep of warning, you tuck it under your arm and crack another glow stick, leaving a '+' at the boundary to the trailer park. "I'll probably need treatment when I get back to base – as long as I grab a reading from the source and get out quickly, there won't be lasting damage. You hear that, Dr. Pierce?" You say through an over-confident huff, readjusting your arms to keep moving forward. "I'm well aware of the risks and take responsibility for my own actions."

The park itself looks like a bad dream at night – trailers abandoned hastily with doors still hung open and belongings scattered along the ground. Between the sudden fault opening and the bureau rushing in, the existing residents had been given very little time and grace to move into temporary housing across town. And it looked every bit like an entire community of people had just up and disappeared.

The suit you were in didn’t exactly help coordination, so you moved slowly and carefully over and around discarded objects along the dirt. Clothing, kitchen utensils, a quilt, a stack of newspapers, a child's toy. All left untouched for over a year.

Clearing the corner of one of the empty trailers, you catch sight of something strange.

“The fault itself has looked normal up to this point, no activity. But I can see the source now. It’s… It appears to be glowing red, fading in and out in a constant cycle.” Approaching even slower than before, you watch intently as the glow grows and then retreats again. Like waves on the shore.

The meter gives another shrill alarm – making you jump nearly out of your skin as you swat at it with the recorder. “Jesus Christ!” It quiets with a sinking pitch in your hand. 

Before checking the reading, you quickly make another ‘+’ with glow sticks, digging them into the dirt a bit in an attempt to keep them from moving. Still down on one knee, you bring the meter up to your flashlight again.

“The meter is now reading 110 mv/m, same frequency. I’m roughly… 12 feet out from the source now. There’s a, uh, humming sound. Not sure if the recording is picking it up. And feeling pressure on my eardrums,” you explain into the device, eyes locked on the glow ahead. “I’ll continue to approach – see if I can get a closer reading. If it jumps above 150, I’ll fall back.”

Pushing to your feet again with a huff, you readjust your full load and press forward slowly. The closer you get to the source, you can see that the fault rapidly grows in size. The space between the edges looks large enough to fit a car as it rounds out at the end – a red pond in the ground.

“I can see the source clearer now. The glow is coming from within – there’s a…" You take a few steps closer, squinting to get a better look. "It appears to be an opaque membrane covering the space between. The glow is coming from behind it. Still cycling at an even rate, no change.”

The meter in your hand gives its shrillest warning yet, scaring you badly enough that it goes flying out of your hand; it hits the ground and flips closer to the edge. “Shit, fuck!”

You shuffle forward and drop down onto your shaky knees, grabbing for the meter as it continues to let out that grating alarm into the night air. Smacking it once more, the sound cuts off abruptly, giving you a chance to breathe.

Bringing it up to your flashlight, your eyes go wide as you lift the recorder again with your other trembling hand. “I’m nearly at the edge now, only a foot or so away  – EMF reading 187 mv/m. Rapid increase from the last point.”

Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, your head snapping toward it.

“There’s… What the fuck?" You pause, tempted to rub your eyes to make sure you're really seeing what you're seeing.

"There’s movement below the membrane. It… It’s just a shadow, I can’t tell what it is, but the movement is rapid and the… The humming is getting louder.” Your heart is pounding now, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin beneath the suit. 

“Going to retreat back to base,” you say, mostly attempting to reassure yourself as you slowly back away from the edge. “Final reading was 189 mv/m at 31016 Hz.”

There’s a crackle of static right before a thumb presses the pause button roughly, silencing the recorder in the center of the table.

“Is that all?” General Richard Highland asks, sounding impatient as he leans back in his conference chair. “That doesn’t tell us anything about what happened to her.”

“No, sir, there’s more.” Private Steve Harrington insists, inclining his head toward the dirty recorder he had delivered. He’s standing by the edge of the table at attention, hands clasped in front of him.  “The recording keeps going.”

Dr. Pierce leans forward from his seat, giving the General a stiff look as he presses the play button again.

There’s a few more moments of static before the woman’s voice fades back in, layered beneath the hum of attempted interference.

“I’m definitely gonna need that rad treatment, Dr. Pierce. My badge is that warning color, even beneath the suit,” she continues with a shaky laugh, the sound of plastic shuffling behind it. “Hopefully I don’t lose my hair or something, but that’s… What?” 

The table of scientists and military personnel sits in tense silence as her voice cuts out again. Half of them are on the edge of their seats, the others showing off a measured calm or disinterest. The general looks particularly annoyed and impatient, while Dr. Pierce looks almost like he wants to throw up.

“There’s… Something’s happening – I don’t–” 

An abrasive crackle echoes out into the room, loud enough to send nearly everyone into a wince, before the recording cuts back in with the sound of screaming. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?! SHIT – I’ve gotta get–" A burst of interference sounds, followed by a metallic grating, like a ship groaning beneath the weight of the ocean.

Her panicked voice comes through, sounding further away than before. "FUCK! It – It’s got my ankle. Let go, you fucking piece of –! SHI–”

The recording cuts out to a buzzing hum.

No one moves for a few moments. Not until Private Harrington steps up to silence the recorder. “We found this recording, a lab issue EMF meter, and a broken flashlight at the edge of the fault." He explains, producing the other two items from the pack resting at his feet. "It was dormant when we got there – solid again.”

“So it just…” One of the other scientists starts, looking at Dr. Pierce uneasily.

“Dragged her through and went back to sleep.” Dr. Pierce confirms solemnly, his gaze locked on the dirty recorder.

“It’s never done this before?” A 2nd scientist, new to the project, asks. The others shake their heads. “So what do we do?”

All eyes turn to Dr. Pierce, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“We wait for it to wake up again.”

Wake up.

Come on, little lamb.

Wake up now.

Looks so peaceful.

But you’ve got to wake up.

…

WAKE UP.

There’s something wet on your face.

Feeling is slowly returning to your body, your eyes closed and too heavy to open. But there’s something dripping on your cheek – droplets running down toward your mouth. Sticking to your dry lips for a moment or two before falling off. You’re on the ground on your stomach, your cheek squished against something that feels like mud.

Your brain has yet to kick on fully as it tries to regain consciousness through a pounding ache, resonating with the throb of your left leg. It feels like you’re still wearing the rad suit, but the head piece is gone and it might be ripped in places – mud seeping in to touch your skin.

It’s almost like you’re sinking.

Eyelids fluttering open and you’re faced with a desaturated swamp. Like someone came through and sucked half the color out of it.

Lifting one arm is difficult, suctioned into the mud you’re laying in. Once you’ve freed it enough, you’re able to push off the sticky, wet sludge beneath you enough to roll over onto your back.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?”

You sit up with a start, your abdomen screaming in protest as your brain swims. Blinking through the blur in your eyes, you struggle to see anything at all in the dark – only momentarily granted sight by the flashes of red lightning overhead.

“Who’s there?” You call out into the dark, an attempt to sound brave, but your voice trembles as your eyes rapidly flit back and forth.

“Over here.”

The lightning flashes once more as you whip your head toward the voice – showing the silhouette of a man standing a few feet away. From what little you see, he’s tall and slender, head tilted to the side like he’s curious. There’s no chance you can see his face or anything else about him.

Until he’s in your face, crouched down right beside you – crossing the space and appearing in the span of a blink. It gives you a start, attempting to back up but getting caught up in the mud still suctioned to your lower half.

Your fear seems to bring a small smile to his face, plump lips tilting up at the corner. He looks so familiar… Long curly hair draped wetly over his shoulders, the sparse bangs across his forehead, and the soft turn of his nose. Curiosity gets the better of you as you lean in again slightly, squinting your eyes a bit more in the dark to see him better.

“I know you…” You insist softly, causing his eyebrows to raise slightly in surprise. “How do I know you?”

“No clue, because I’ve never met you in my life.” He replies, lips parting in a grin. “And I’m good with faces – ‘specially pretty ones.”

His response catches you off guard as your brain continues reeling and struggling to intake information, which is normally your forte. There’s a million questions on the tip of your tongue and you have no idea where to start.

“You’ll probably need to lose the suit if you want to get out of that shit,” he continues when you don’t respond, motioning to your stationary legs with a wave of his hand. And he’s probably right, with the way the mud beneath you is stuck tight to the shiny plastic. Your best hope is to try to use the suit as a stepping off point to get to stable ground.

“Where should I step once I pull out?” You ask, hoping he’ll understand your goal.

A blink and he’s gone again – another flash of red light placing his silhouette off to your left. “Think you can make it to here?” He responds, voice raised slightly and sounding like he’s teasing you or challenging you. It makes your competitive side flare up on instinct – a frustrated huff leaving your nose as you plan your escape.

Opening the front of the suit, you slip both arms out and let the upper half fall flat behind you. Pulling out both of your legs next, your butt sinks deeper into the ground, nearly sending you off balance as you quickly shift your weight forward onto your knees, using the suit as a stepping stone. It starts to sink, mud coming up over the edge and inching toward your knees, so you have to move fast.

Pushing to your feet makes it sink faster, wet sludge touching the side of your ankle just as you push off in a jump toward where the man was standing.

You land on the ankle that had been grasped by the tentacle, not realizing the throbbing meant it’d been twisted. It makes you cry out in pain and fall forward, directly into the man’s chest.

“Woah there!” He says in surprise, grasping onto your elbows to keep you sort of upright. Between the aching pain and the tears pressing at your eyes, you just barely manage to notice how cold and clammy he is – especially where his hands grip your bare biceps.

Rocketing back, you press your weight onto your good leg and put some distance between the two of you again, your dirty arms crossing over your tank top and smearing it with mud. “Sorry, my, uh, ankle…” You offer awkwardly, still not even sure who you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about it, angel. You good?”

He actually sounds like he cares. Like he’s concerned for you. Who is he? 

“I’ll be fine,” you insist stubbornly, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat. Free from your precarious situation, at least partially, you struggle to figure out what to address first. “How are you doing that? Like… Teleporting? Or are you just moving really fast?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “What–,” he disappears in a blink and then you feel a burst of air on the back of your neck, making your hair stand on end, “this?”

You lurch forward before turning around to level him a glare. “Yes, that – don’t do that.”

His hands tuck into the front pockets of the leather jacket he’s wearing as he shrugs, looking quite pleased with himself. “Sorry, angel, didn’t mean to spook you.”

Then silence falls, both of you eyeing each other – you suspiciously and him curiously. The extended pause makes you think you aren’t going to be told how anytime soon.

A breeze kicks up, rustling the branches of the trees in the surrounding swampland and sending a shiver down your spine. Suit lost, you’re down to a tank top, jeans, and a pair of no slip shoes (which were required for people working in the field for some reason). You were dressed for the humid interior of the field site tent in summer and it appears that you have landed yourself in a place where that is not enough.

Taking advantage of the silence, you try to remember everything you can about your studies into the ‘gates’ from when they were open. Very little was known beside second hand accounts and old data – some of which may not even be accurate anymore given the nature of the fault lines. If there was anywhere to start, it would be trying to find the gate you’d been dragged through.

With any luck, you could go right back to your dimension.

But that didn’t account for him. The pale, wet, unsettling-yet-somehow-charming guy that was still staring right at you.

“How long have you been here? Do you know?” You question cautiously, not wanting to upset him in any way.

“That depends, what year is it?”

Your heart drops into your stomach, completely at odds with the continued grin on his face. It looks almost manic now – like every time he sets you off balance brings him great joy. Deciding you’d actually rather not know how long he’s been in here, you move on.

“Have you been alone this whole time? Or are there other people here?”

His grin spreads, like he’s in on a joke you’re not aware of. “I haven’t been alone, no.”

This piques your curiosity again, adjusting your weight on your good leg. “Do you have a community here? How many of you are there?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” He suggests, taking a step or two away from you, his hands still tucked into his pockets.

The idea is tempting, if only to learn more about what is going on here, but there’s something nagging at the back of your mind. Something you should be remembering. Something you’re missing. Plus, for all you know, this man does not have your best interests at heart.

“I should probably try to find the gate that brought me here,” you say, slightly regretfully. “See if I can cross back over.”

“Oh, right,” he responds, tapping his forehead with his palm like it should’ve been obvious. “Yeah, I can show you the way.”

This surprises you again, slight concern causing you to stand up straighter. “You can?”

“Sure thing, the closest one isn’t far,” he motions behind him with a tilt of his chin, taking another step back. “Come on.”

So you follow the strange man into the dark, limping after him on your twisted ankle. The mud starts to dry on your skin, hair, and clothing – crusting over and hardening in places. You pick at pieces as you walk, letting the chunks and flakes fall to the ground behind you. From what little you can see, there are vines everywhere along the ground, weaving between tree trunks and layering over each other in place. The man seems to step over them – and you can’t tell if it’s on purpose or a coincidence – but you make a habit of not touching the vines just in case.

It’s unsettlingly quiet here. Every once in a while you’ll hear what sounds like an animal – a howl, a chittering, the thump of feet on the earth. But they are few and far between, leaving mostly just the rush of wind through the trees and a sort of muffled silence, pressure on your ears.

Your paranoia kicks up as the quiet continues, suspiciously eyeing the back of your escort as he leads you forward. For all you knew, he wasn’t leading you anywhere near the gate. You have no reason to trust him beyond the fact that he helped you get out of the sludge you woke up in. He was in this dimension after all, clearly familiar with it. That had to be a red flag if anything, given what little you actually knew about it.

So much was classified beyond your reach – the bureau was very specific with what you were allowed to read and know and what you weren’t. Given the dormant nature of the fault lines, it hadn’t been necessary for you to learn too much about the dimension on the other side. Most of what you studied and knew was about the gates themselves.

Even with the bureau being as paranoid and obsessive as it was – a lowly field researcher getting dragged to the other side and needing to survive hadn’t seemed to be on their radar.

The pessimistic part of you not-so-helpfully supplies that was probably just because they weren't very interested in your survival at all. They’d probably prefer it if you died here. If anything, your exposure to the other side made you more of a liability.

Maybe one they could experiment on, if you got lucky and survived.

This train of thinking isn’t helping anything. You could worry about what your life would become if you made it out.

Walking up to the lifeless and solid gate turns that into a very tentative if.

“Looks like the door’s shut tight,” Eddie offers vaguely, rocking back and forth on his heels as you circle the hole in the ground, like seeing a new angle will change something about it.

The opening looks largely the same as the other side, in the center of the abandoned trailer park with the forest surrounding. Your arms are covered in goosebumps as the breeze hits harder in the open field, no longer buffered by trees on all sides. On the bright side, it is slightly better lit here and you can see your companion a bit clearer now.

“Do you know how these things work? Like how and why it opens and shuts?” You ask desperately, looking at him from the other side of the crevice.

The corner of his mouth tilts up minutely, his shoulders shrugging. “Yes and no.”

The scowl returns to your face, frustration mounting as another shiver of cold racks your body. “Are you intentionally being unhelpful? Or are you just an idiot?”

His lips part in a surprised ‘o’, his eyebrows raising like he’s impressed. “That hurts, angel. I’m no idiot, and I think I’ve been plenty helpful. After all… I could’ve just left you to drown out there. Or maybe led you into a trap. Or left you for the dogs.” He taunts, returning to a toothy grin. The question of if he has your well being in mind gets more and more clear with a resounding no.

A fearful jolt runs down your spine as you stare him down, trying not to let your fear show. Grappling tightly to your anger, you taunt back, “Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you?”

A blink and he’s gone.

Your entire body goes on alert, tensing for attack as your heart starts to pound against your ribs. Eyes searching the immediate area in front of you come up empty. He’s either behind you or far enough you can’t see him in the low light. You never got an answer as to whether he’s moving quickly or teleporting or exactly how far he can get in the time you blinked.

He’s either long gone or… Trying to surprise you.

As soon as you have the thought, the hair on the back of your neck stands up – like some kind of unconscious sense of danger.

You turn in a quick 180 and he’s right there. Only a foot away from you with a sadistic sort of smile on his face. Your breath catches in your chest as it feels like a fist grabs tightly to your heart, suddenly much more terrified of the man in front of you.

That appears to be the way he prefers it.

“I think we can help each other.”

You blink at him, muscles pulled taut and ready to bolt as you try to figure out what the fuck he’s doing and what the fuck he wants. “What?” You question, your voice coming out a bit breathy and scared.

“I said, I think we can help each other,” he repeats calmly. “You help me, and I can help you get back home.”

“Why– What– H–how could I possibly help you?” You sputter, trying not to sound as terrified and confused as you feel.

His grin turns cheeky again, slightly less unsettling than it was a moment ago. “It won’t take much, angel, scout’s honor.” He says as he lays a hand over his chest. “You help me, then you’re free to crawl right back over to the other side and continue your life.”

Disbelief and uncertainty nags at you as you fidget in your spot, wanting desperately to put some more distance between the two of you but nervous to offend him. “So you can open the gate? You just want something in return?”

He shakes his head emphatically, appearing to be genuine in his denial. “I can’t but I know who can. They opened it before you were brought over.”

“And they would open it again? Just because you asked?” You question suspiciously, studying his facial expression for a sign that he’s pulling your leg again.

“Let’s just say that me and them have similar goals and leave it at that.”

There are 100 more questions on the tip of your tongue, but with the potential of getting back to your own dimension on the table, you’re reluctant to press too hard. He seems to recognize the battle you’re fighting with yourself as he laughs to himself. “You know what they say about curiosity, angel.”

An annoyed exhale punches out of your nose. “And I assume in this case that I’m the cat.”

“Bingo!” He says happily, tapping the end of his nose with his index finger. “So what do you say?”

There is so much you want to say. So many questions you want to ask. So much more info you need. But beggars can’t be choosers, you suppose.

“What would I need to do?”

His smile goes sharp again. “So glad you asked. I’d just need a kiss.”

A beat of silence. Then your expression drops in disbelief and disappointment. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Dead serious,” he insists, laying his hand on his chest again as he regards you intently. “And it’s gotta be real – gotta kiss me like you mean it. None of those little pecks you give on the cheek.”

A strange swirl of intrigue and revulsion mixes together in your gut as you continue waiting for the punchline. The ‘just kidding, your face was priceless’. But it doesn’t come.

“Is this some kind of sick joke? Been so lonely out here that you have to twist the arm of a desperate girl just to get some–”

“Hey.” He interrupts, his tone intense and cold. It shuts you up immediately, though you can’t say why. “Don’t be mean, angel. This isn’t just me trying to take advantage of you. It has a real purpose.”

The dubious look you give him makes him crack another small smile. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth.”

“And am I allowed to know what this purpose is?”

He shakes his head again, displacing the curls draped over his shoulders that still appear to have not dried at all. “I’ll tell you when it’s done, how about that?” He offers, using your curiosity against you to try to sweeten the deal.

Really, it’s a no brainer. Sure, he’s a strange person that lives in an alternate dimension that has some strange abilities. Sure, you know next to nothing about him despite that itch in the back of your head telling you that you know him somehow. And sure, this could be a huge mistake. But having to kiss this admittedly-attractive dude just to get out of this nightmare dimension and get back home? The choice is simple.

Which only makes you more certain there’s a catch you aren’t seeing.

“Fine. If you swear I’ll be able to go home, then I’ll do it.”

His expression brightens excitedly, a sort of childlike joy appearing on his face. It’s different from any of the expressions you’ve seen on him so far – like genuine surprise. “You will?”

“Yeah, sure.” You reply, trying to brush it off as nothing. “Not like I have a lot of other options here.”

His excitement fades slightly, though he still looks pleased with the outcome. “Glad you made the right decision.”

An unsettling silence falls as the two of you study each other once more, now much closer than the last time. Fear and anticipation builds steadily as you find yourself glancing down at his lips – realizing you’re about to know what they feel like on your own.

“Do we, uh,” you pause to clear your throat as you awkwardly break the silence. “Do we do it now? Or… What?”

He takes a step closer, entering your personal space. His voice is lower, stickier, and richer when he responds. “Do you wanna do it now, angel?”

You suddenly feel like a fly stuck in a honey trap – eyes widening as you struggle between wanting to further close the distance and to run away from him. “Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose?” Though you meant it to be nonchalant, it comes out as a nervous question.

The uncertainty in your voice only seems to make the man crack another amused smile. “I suppose so,” he replies softly, gently teasing you as he gets even just a little bit closer. You can feel your heart pounding in your neck, constantly flipping back and forth between fear, interest, nerves, and embarrassment. Looking at you through slightly lowered eyelids, he leans in toward you. Close enough you can feel the exhale of his breath on your face.

“Kiss me like you mean it, angel.” He reminds you quietly, the tip of his nose nudging against yours as your eyelids flutter closed instinctively. “Don’t forget.”

Then his lips are pressing to yours. You make a small noise of surprise, both in that you weren’t sure if he was actually going to do it and because he’s so cold. But his lips are plush and soft as he places your lower lip between his own. As promised, you kiss him back, trying not to think about how strange it feels that he’s cold and the situation you’re in – focusing on the gentle pressure of him as he steps even closer and brings his hand up to cradle your jaw.

It’s gentle and sweet as you find yourself starting to forget the reality of it all. Your hands find the edges of his leather jacket, tugging him closer as he hums happily. His other hand finds your waist – cold through the thin fabric of your tank top.

Teeth nip lightly at your lower lip and you make another small noise of surprise, a flash of heat through your chest at the pleasant feeling. It distracts you further – not even questioning the adventurous flick of his tongue against your mouth. You part your lips on instinct; his hand flexing happily against your jaw as he tests the waters to run his tongue along yours.

You return the gesture, encouraging the touch as you breathe heavily through your nose. You’re running low on air and will need to part to breathe soon. You’re surprised to find that you aren’t really sure that you want to stop to do so.

He seems to recognize the impending need too; his lips pressing against yours more insistently, like he’s getting what he can before it ends. His tongue ventures past your lips one more time, pressing further than he had before. Is… Is his tongue longer than normal?

In the same moment that he pulls away from you, the hand on your jaw claps over your mouth to keep it shut. And there’s something in your mouth.

There’s something moving in your mouth.

You make a high pitched noise of panic as your eyes double in size, looking at him in terror while he holds you tightly to his front and keeps his hand firmly over your mouth. “Ah, ah, angel. You gotta swallow it.” He coos, his palm clammy and cold against your slick lips.

You shake your head as well as you can with his grip, making noises of protest as you struggle to keep the smooth, wiggling object from sliding down your throat. Your hands grab at his wrist and forearm, trying to pull him off, but his grip is too strong. Begging him with your eyes, sharp and stuttered breaths coming out of your nose as you hyperventilate, he just gives you a sad smile. “It’s not that bad, I promise. Just gotta swallow and it’ll be over – don’t make me plug your nose.”

Painful tears poke out of your eyes and start to descend down your cheeks, nails digging into his skin to try and get him off. It seems not to affect him at all, his other hand giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay. This is it – you won’t have to do anything else. Come on, angel. You can do it. Just swallow for me.”

His words of encouragement make your head spin in confusion, panic mounting as the outcome seems inevitable. More tears pour down your cheeks as you choke on a sob, inadvertently allowing the object to slide down your throat. 

“There we go,” he sighs in relief, grip on your face loosening, “Good girl.”

Somehow he knew that you’d swallowed it because he releases you right as you start to cough roughly, stumbling away from him and bending forward. You can still feel the strange coating from the creature on your tongue and down your esophagus – thick and wrong as you cough and gag.

Get it out, get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT!!

“What was– How do I– I’ve gotta–” You stammer, stumbling over your words as you tremble wildly and gag, your body responding to your panic by wanting to reject the new contents of your stomach.

He appears right beside you again, gripping both of your wrists with his hands as he forces you upright. “Don’t throw it up.” His voice is a command, his expression intense. “If you throw it up, I’ll have to force feed you another one. And trust me, it’s way less fun the 2nd time.”

Tears continue to pour from your eyes as you rapidly shake your head. “What was– What is– Why are you doing this? What was that thing?”

“Calm down, angel, please calm down,” he begs, starting to look distressed himself. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear, it’s gonna be fine. You’re a part of something bigger now. It’s all going to be okay.”

You try to pull out of his grip on your wrists, alternating between yanking back and rushing forward to push him away. “What the fuck does that mean?! What have you done to me?!” You shout through your tears, white hot panic spreading through your body. “It’s not too late – I can still, I can still throw it up, I can…”

He drags you in, wrapping you up in a tight bear hug with your arms trapped between the two of you. He shushes you, standing steady against your weakening struggling against him. “Shhh, shh, it’s alright, angel. It’s okay. You’re gonna get to go home, okay? We’re gonna get to go home.”

“Sir, we’ve got activity.”

Dr. Pierce pushes out of his desk chair fast enough to make his head spin – lack of sleep and too much coffee weakening him beyond measure. He’s barely left the main building since you went missing.

Since you were dragged through.

There have been constant patrols of the fault line you disappeared into, hoping for any sign of it waking up again. It was on his order and against the wishes of General Highland. She’s a level 1 researcher. She knew the risks. It’s not worth the cost.

But you didn’t know the risks, not really. Pierce knows he didn’t do enough to prepare you, to warn you. He didn’t do enough to protect you.

This is his fault.

He’s not the only one buzzing with anticipation as he exits his darkened office; several other scientists and field agents are reacting to the news of activity with a rush. Not everyone will be allowed to go to the site, as it would be a madhouse, but several live cameras and other surveillance equipment have been set up in the area. At least a quarter of the bureau across the country will be intently watching whatever happens next.

Pierce says nothing as he makes his way for the garage and the people he passes know better than to approach him now. He can still feel their eyes – judgemental, curious, concerned. He’s felt their eyes for days.

There are several SUVs already prepared by the time he arrives, most already full of people who were approved to be on site in the case of reactivation. He recognizes the soldier standing by waiting for him as Private Steve Harrington, the same man who brought in the recorder originally. He’s one of the few people at the bureau with prior knowledge of the other dimension despite his low rank.

“Sir,” he greets with a respectful head dip, opening the backdoor of the SUV for Pierce as he approaches. Pierce returns the gesture before climbing into the backseat, sliding across the bench to the opposite side. Steve gets in after him, his bulky gear forcing him to sit far forward on the bucket seat as he slams the door closed behind him.

It only takes another minute or so before the caravan lurches and begins to move, following after the identical black SUV in front of it.

The walkie-talkie on Steve’s shoulder kicks to life quietly, a short and concise signal coming through that Pierce doesn’t understand. The exhausted scientist looks over curiously as Steve murmurs an, “Affirmative,” into the device before clicking it off.

“Any news from the fault?”

Steve glances over, surprised to be addressed, before he turns back to look out the front windshield. “Nothing yet, sir.”

Pierce keeps an eye on the soldier as they travel – watching with intrigue as the man continuously searches the vehicle’s surroundings, like he’s expecting an attack.

“You seem on edge, Steve.” He straightens in response, looking even more uncomfortable at being referred to by his first name. “Is it because the gate is active?”

A muscle in his jaw rolling with tension, Steve keeps his gaze firmly forward as he responds. “It doesn’t supply a good feeling, that’s for sure.”

“And yet you still volunteered for the theoretical strike team to go through?” Pierce wonders aloud, phrasing it like a question.

There’s a tense moment of silence before the private answers. “At least I already know what to expect on the other side.”

The two don’t interact again for the reminder of the drive.

The SUVs all pull into the vacant field beside the field tent in a line, the leader of the patrol team coming out to meet the first vehicle. Pierce watches General Highland step out of it and start to converse with the uniformed woman. By the time he makes it way over, he seems to be catching the tail end of the conversation.

“We have each unit spread out in even intervals along the fault; so far there has been no change since it first activated.”

“And they all have their protective equipment on, I presume?” Dr. Pierce cuts in, surprising the patrol leader and earning an annoyed look from General Highland.

“Yes sir,” she responds with a head nod. “I was just telling the general that they’re all outfitted with gear to protect them from the worst of the radiation, but it would still do good to regularly swap out the unit in the center, where the worst of it is.”

Pierce agrees with a stiff nod, not waiting to hear the general disagree before he turns to look back. As he expected, Private Harrington trailed him over, waiting a respectful distance away as to not eavesdrop. “Harrington.”

Steve turns at the call, jogging over to Pierce. “Sir.”

“Suit up. You’re coming with me to the source.”

“Yes sir.”

The pair of them push into the field tent, currently staffed with 15 more people than usual. There are researchers and scientists bent over displays and documenting readings, soldiers standing by with weapons, field agents watching over the researchers shoulders. Pierce walks past all of them, parting the way as he does, and starts to strip off his lab coat while pulling a radiation suit off the rack. Steve follows suit, removing a majority of his gear to reequip on top of the plastic suit.

The buzz of excited chatter is nearly grating on Pierce’s ears as he goes through the annoying process of putting on the PPE. But he misses it when it suddenly cuts off, directly after one of the researchers announces, “We’ve got a spike in activity!”

Pierce looks over at Steve, who is still clipping things to his belt again. “We’ve gotta move.”

“Yes sir,” Steve repeats once more, gathering the bare necessities in his arms to try to equip as they move. The pair of them push out the other side of the tent and set into a jog towards what used to be Forest Hills Trailer Park.

They pass a few pairs of outfitted people as they move – soldiers patrolling and scientists maintaining the monitoring equipment placed along the fault. None of them interact as the pair jogs past, heading for the end of the fault line. They can see a small group ahead – presumably gathered closer to where the spike in activity happened.

“Make some room!” Steve barks out as they approach, the gathered group moving further away from the fault line in response. Some look back to see who is coming while others keep their eyes locked on the glowing source beyond.

“Keep at least 10 feet back from the fault at all times,” Pierce orders the group as they pass. “Stay in pairs, don’t go off on your own. We have very little idea what we’re dealing with here, but we have reason to believe there are things that will try to drag you through the gate. If something comes out, fall back and call out. Don’t let your partner get grabbed.”

There is some murmuring in response, but no one openly disregards the order, starting to pair off as a few people move further back along the fault line. Pierce approaches a pair hunched over a meter near the source, keeping his eyes on the glowing red below. “What are we looking at?”

“It’s fluctuating slightly; was 116 mv/m at 31016 Hz at peak.” The researcher responds, keeping a close eye on the EMF before them. “Nothing close to the reported 189 mv/m. We might not be looking at full activation. Or maybe it’s building up, it’s hard to say.”

“Wait,” Steve cuts in, holding a hand out for the researcher to pause. “Do you hear that?”

They all fall silent, listening closely.

Then Pierce hears it – the hum from the recording. The one you were talking about hearing.

The scientist gives him a nod of agreement before looking back to the researcher. “Any sign of movement from the other side?”

“Not that we can tell from here,” the field agent answers for them. “We’ve been following the guidelines to stay back so it’s hard to catch anything from here.”

“Radio? Portable EMF?” Dr. Pierce asks, and the field agent presents both. He takes them and then looks back at Steve. “We’re moving up.”

Even behind the protection of the face shield, Pierce can see the tension in his expression. Regardless, the private still answers with a confident, “Yes sir.”

Keeping the meter within eyesight, the two push ahead, closer to the large opening at the source. Pierce watches it tick up with each step closer, crossing the 150 mark as they get within 5 feet of the edge. Looking out across the opening, the glowing membrane pulses and hums with energy, louder and louder as they approach.

There’s very little movement on the other side, but every once in a while Pierce catches a glimpse of a dark shadow moving beyond.

“Never gets any less unsettling to look at,” Steve murmurs beside him, shifting his weight between his feet as he keeps his eyes locked on the unbroken membrane.

“Dr. Pierce, we’ve got another spike!” The researcher calls from behind, voice sounding a bit concerned. “We’re edging 170 now.”

The humming increases steadily along with a slight vibration in the ground beneath their feet. Steve steps up beside Pierce, a hand out like he’s ready to drag him back from the edge, as Pierce stares into the membrane intensely.

Come on. Come on. Come back through. Just be alive. Come on. Please be alive.

A more defined shadow moves along the edge closest to the trailer and doesn’t pull back. “We’ve got movement!” Steve calls back, alerting the nearby units as Pierce’s hand flies out to hush him. They both watch with a certain level of horrified fascination as the shadow grows defined enough to make that section of the membrane appear black before it begins to tear.

A bare hand extends out of the membrane, blindly grasping for the nearby edge. Steve twitches forward, like he wants to go and help them, but Pierce holds him back wordlessly, leaving them both standing perfectly still as another hand appears and grabs onto the edge.

The person uses the grip on the edge to pull themselves through – a woman in a filthy tank top and jeans struggling to pull herself onto the flat ground. As soon as she is through, she quickly turns around on her knees and reaches back through the membrane.

You’re… You’re actually alive.

Several soldiers approach slowly with their rifles out, aiming at you as you take hold of someone else’s hand and start to pull them through. A pale man with long, messy hair appears from the other side, holding on tightly to you as you help him reorient to the change in perspective. “No way…” Steve whispers, standing frozen as he watches them start to sit up and look around.

“Dr. Pierce!” You call happily once you spot him, waving at him like you’re excited to see him. There’s a huge smile on your face, a stark contrast to your utterly disheveled appearance. “I made it! I’m back!”

The soldiers continue to keep their weapons trained on the newcomers, watching for some sign of aggression. You slowly get to your feet, offering your hand to your companion and helping him up too. Steve takes a few mindless steps towards them, Dr. Pierce no longer stopping him. “Eddie?” He calls uncertainly, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Eddie, is that you?”

The man’s head perks up, looking in Steve’s direction. “Harrington?” He replies, sounding just as uncertain and confused. “Is that you in there?”

“Eddie, as in Eddie Munson?” Dr. Pierce asks Steve, still unmoving as he stares at you, seemingly unharmed.

“Yeah…” Steve breathes out, still looking stunned. “And he doesn’t look like he’s aged a day.”

You and Eddie start to walk over when a soldier barks at you to stay back, both of you nervously putting your hands up as you look between the armed soldiers, Steve, and Pierce.

“It’s me, Dr. Pierce. It’s really me.” You insist, looking at him pleadingly. “And this is Eddie, he helped me find my way back. He saved me.” You add, motioning to the man beside you. The two of you are close together; you stand slightly in front of Eddie, like you’re protecting him. Eddie just offers a sheepish smile and a shrug, like it was no big deal.

“Sir? What do we do?” One of the soldiers asks, glancing in Dr. Pierce’s direction.

The two of you look exhausted, dirty, hungry, but… Harmless. No worse for wear despite the time spent on the other side.

“Bring them in.” Pierce orders. “No excessive force. They’ve been through a lot.”

The soldiers nod, lowering their weapons and urging you both to come forward. You look particularly relieved, while Eddie appears mostly unphased by all of it.

“Thank god, I need a shower so badly.” You announce with a happy laugh, walking toward them as you shake your head and make a disgusted face. “No one smell me, I’m begging you.”

If anyone finds your behavior unsettling or strange, they don’t say so. Everyone mostly looks relieved it didn’t turn into some kind of fight. While there is something off about how you’re acting, Dr. Pierce can’t find it in himself to feel anything besides relief at your return.

Steve stands motionless and tense as Eddie approaches, looking every bit like he’s seen a ghost. There is no excitement, no relief, no… Trust. Like this is all a bad dream and he just wants to wake up.

Just before you and Eddie pass the two of them, you flash another excited smile. “And not a moment too soon – I’m so thirsty.” You look over at Eddie, who nods in agreement, before you continue walking toward the field tent in the distance, flanked on either side by armed soldiers.

Eddie stops by Steve, giving him a tilted smile. “Hey Harrington, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same to you,” Steve replies, his tone apprehensive and flat. If Eddie catches on, he doesn’t show it, just continuing to show that same smile – like he knows something you don’t.

“What can I say?” He offers with a shrug and a wink before he continues to trail after you and toward the growing crowd beyond. “It’s good to be back.”

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thanks for reading, please let me know if you liked it!!

[syrupfog]

Luffy needs a place to crash over the summer because his straw hat crew are all going home or traveling abroad before the new semester starts in the fall. He puts it off to the last minute and ends up claiming a bed in an old half-double with a painted sign reading Polar Tang.

(Is half-double a local term lmao it’s when there’s a house that’s split down the middle into two full houses lmao) 

Fourteen people live here, between three bedrooms on the second floor and two in the attic. It’s absolutely a fire code problem but Luffy’s never been one to care.

(He’s not a fireman YET— not until he can pass the exam). 

Plus, rent is dirt cheap. 200/month and that includes house dinner once a week. 

He moves in with just the duffel bag of clothes, his sleeping bag and his backpack. The guy who’s number he picked up off a telephone pole is the one who answers the door. He’s tall and wide and apologizes for everything; the screen door that’s missing a screen, fireplace that doesn’t work and instead holds all their shoes, the state of the kitchen (dishes are stacked on every surface including the floor).

Luffy feels right at home. Not home like Zoro and Sanji’s place, which is clean and always smells of rubber from Zoro’s dumbbells. Home like with Ace and Sabo in a place that wouldn’t pass a health inspection. 

He grins as they continue on.

Bepo shows him through the bedrooms on the second floor (homemade bunk beds squeeze four to a room) and the tiniest bathroom with a window that looks directly into the neighbor’s shower (“he refuses to put up a curtain so we don’t either” says Bepo.) (“sorry”.)

Then up to the attic, with a sloped bedroom that three mattresses are squished in (two guys in funny hats are asleep on the floor between two mattresses), a second bathroom (“no one is allowed to use that toilet because Shachi’s credit card is wedged in it”), and another bedroom.

“You’ll be in here”, Bepo says, and Luffy can sense the sorry before he says it as he pushes the door open. 

It’s tiny. The ceiling slopes down so low there’s really only three walls. The tallest wall has shelves mounted on it completely covered in action figures.

There’s two mattresses — one bare, one covered in books. And surrounded by stacks of books. And papers. And empty coffee mugs. 

And a guy blearily blinking at the light they’re letting in from the hall. He’s buried between piles of books, his laptop perched on his knees.

“Your roommate!” Bepo squeaks. “Bye guys!” 

He closes the door and slips (noisily) down the stairs. 

“You look like a vampire,” Luffy says. The man looks like he’s never seen sunlight. 

“I’m on a dual pre-med pre-law track,” the man scowls. 

“Cool,” says Luffy.

He dumps his things on the bare mattress. “Robin says I’m a free spirit.” 

The man blinks at him. “Don’t open the window or the raccoon will get in. The aircon doesn’t work in the attic. If you break my Sora figures you will die in your sleep. I’m Trafalgar Law.”

“Hi Traffy! I’m Monkey D Luffy,” says Luffy. He holds out his hand and Law hunches back before awkwardly shaking it. 

Luffy flops back onto the mattress. It smells like frogs. “Hey Traffy,” he says after a moment. Law squints at him. “you seem like someone who would like urb— urban ex— someone who would like to break into buildings.” Luffy looks over at him with a grin. “Wanna explore the underground tunnels on campus?” 

Law scowls. He’s hunched at a 90 degree angle over his papers and books and coffee. He looks murderous. 

“…Yeah.” He says.

Luffy kicks his feet. “This will be a good summer,” he says. 

(He learns quickly that coffee is the only food allowed in their room because of The Ants and The Flies and The Possum). 

(He also learns to take the fall for Law whenever they get caught exploring since Law can’t have a record) 

(Luffy does this gladly) 

(They kiss in an abandoned hospital)

[moonbaby26]

Title: Two Conditions

(Chapter 8 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

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

Chapter Warnings: language, controlling/possessive relationship, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex referenced (female receiving), Doffy considering baby trapping reader, Doffy referencing attraction to reader even when she was still a teen (nothing happened)

Chapter Synopsis: It’s now day two of your three day agreement to stay with Doflamingo. You’re still surviving, even enjoying it at times. But whether that is for better or worse remains to be seen as he’s keen on coercing your full commitment to him as soon as possible.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8, 9

——————————

—————————— 

It was clear that you were far more familiar with sharing a bed than Doflamingo was for as deeply as you now slept. Either this or you were just that exhausted from enduring him so many more times throughout the night.

Even his cock was finally feeling a bit sore from so much grinding, lube or not. But he never would have told you that, just watching you sleeping against him still in what was probably now two or three in the morning.

He’d only allowed you out of the bed long enough earlier to eat dinner with him as well as to use the attached master bath to clean up, and occasionally relieve your bladder from the beer you’d had in town and all the wine which came alone with him after.  

Dinner had been a quick one out on the balcony, you and he both indulging in a mushroom risotto with scallops. More of that traditional Scyllian fare prepared from the kitchen and personal chefs below. Though those servants would have long gone home by now.

Even as expensive as this place had been to purchase, it was still far smaller than what he was used to. Which also meant that it stayed less crowded inside. Really, not much more than the two of you left except for some useless guards perhaps still patrolling this late at night.

But you had seemed to approve when first seeing the villa. Because of course, what difference did you know? The majority of your quiet hours were likely only had laying in a marine bunk not much bigger than a coffin, having to hear all your other crew moving and breathing around you in the ships you traveled on. 

Like an ant in the dirt with all the others.

But he couldn’t stop watching you all the same, so vulnerable beside him. This fascination with you in particular only seeming to worsen exponentially each time that he had you alone.

And he already had thrown down the gauntlet with Tsuru, announcing his intentions to keep pursuing you despite her strong misgivings. So he’d have to be prepared for those consequences soon.

She had promised to air everything she knew about him in an attempt to drive you off. All in the name of protecting you of course. And goddamn that woman did know almost all of it. And even what she had no proof for, she likely still heavily suspected.

But him racing against that clock to capture you fully before she could sabotage him only made things that much more interesting really.

It was obvious that you and Tsuru had yet to connect again since she’d first found out. But the moment she was back on the scene, it’d be a full out battle of wills for your fate he was sure.

And this was the primary reason everything had to be rushed along.

Though, courting you at this speed did agree with his natural impatience too of course. He’d waited long enough to have these chances with you after all.

Whether you accepted it yet or not, he had wanted this from very first sight. And he absolutely would have fucked you senseless in the North Blue too if things had worked out better then. Teenage body or not for you at that time in your life. 

Sometimes he still suspected that you and Tsuru had even added a few years onto your official marine record to make you legal for recruitment back then. She’d kept you hidden aboard her ship as a little chore girl well before training you up to let you out into the field with villains like him he was sure.

Because she had learned the hard way not to leave the wrong child behind again hadn’t she? 

Doflamingo smirked to himself at those old thoughts, just burying that scarred left side of his face back against you now.

He was going to have to tell you that part of his story eventually. Because she would if he didn’t. The one about the rage filled little boy whose eye and life your insufferable race had tried to steal as they rose up against him. 

The bottomless violence of humankind only contrasted in the one older woman he’d met soon after that offered him a brief respite which nearly made him change it all. 

He had begged Tsuru not to leave him there. That boy had cried out for a mother’s warmth one last time and been so fatefully denied.

Too young to recruit then she’d said, and with biological family still alive that she wouldn’t remove him from.

Oh how Doflamingo had wondered how many nights she had lain awake ruing that mistake ever since. Especially when her peer Sengoku had found an even younger Rosinante soon after and done for that traitor what she wouldn’t for him. Of course Doflamingo had never learned about Sengoku’s direct involvement until long after his brother’s death.

But now, so much like his bird namesake which sometimes hid their head beneath their wings as they slept, Doflamingo had long since made a habit of burying that blind side of his face and those mistakes of the past within the nearest comfort whenever available.

And tonight, instead of just another cold empty bed and overstuffed pillows alone, that actually meant the safety of the nape of your neck as he breathed in your scent and warmth.

Everything he did still had its own purpose though. Even as entirely uncomfortable as it’d been to let you see him laid bare this soon, he knew he was correct to have made this choice.

Because it was already so obvious in the way you’d touched his face and spoken to him so sincerely after…you were already forgetting how easily that switch within him could still flip.

If he used tenderness as a tool to get his way, it didn’t erase anything else that he was still so capable of. This beast would still bite you, even as an injured one now experiencing your rare kindness.

Especially an an injured one actually when faced with your weakness of affection. 

Because no amount of kisses, soft touches, or pretty words could make his pain any less real. Or dampen his inner fear of ever experiencing that level of helplessness again that he had once been dealt from your kind. 

If you did sleep beside him enough nights to find out, you’d discover him sweating and thrashing in his sleep eventually. Reliving the ropes cutting into his wrists, the fire at his feet, and the smoke in his lungs as he’d screamed at those vermin. Screamed and threatened to destroy everything and everyone even as their arrows finally hit their mark.

He’d made good on some of those promises too in recent years. But it would never be enough. That rage could never be fully quenched, his suffering from it never lessened. 

That pain could only be paused perhaps, or briefly redirected. In the instances where he was receiving something that he also wanted so thoroughly.

He wanted to hold you. He wanted to fuck you. He wanted to fight you. And he wanted to keep you.

His mind had run endless with plans and strategies to do this very thing for so long now. But he absolutely had to seal the deal soon to make this permanent. 

Because the only thing he was certain of when it came to these conflicting emotions was that no one else could be allowed to truly claim you again.

As his long body shifted once more, nestling even further against you at every meeting point that he could, his hand still tightened slightly on your lower abdomen.

That was one option he was still considering.

He hadn’t forgotten the crazy things you’d made him say in Sabaody. He’d been so angry with you that day. Likening you to nothing better than livestock for him to shame, abuse, and even impregnate however he’d see fit. 

It was still very much a cheat too if he chose to use that. Because as highly as he regarded his own twisted, mother and son like relationship with Tsuru, it also made him not see a chain in this world stronger than that between mothers and their spawn.

No matter what you said or eventually promised him now, he knew you may still try to fly away from him one day. But if there was a child…then no matter where or how far you may wish to run, you would always return right back to any nest he’d made for you. You would do so without hesitation if your chick was the one within his grasp instead. If it was crying out in fear for your protection.

And the immorality of such ideas was not even a concept worth considering. Because of course he could do whatever he wished with his own future blood, or with you, his own desired mate.

It was just the logistics of achieving such a thing. 

When his servants had searched your bag earlier, he could have had them throw out those stupid birth control pills of yours then and there.

But you’d just get more as soon as you were back on any marine ship. He knew that. So the fight that would have been with you hadn’t been worth the annoyance to him right now.

Not for such a low chance of making a difference in just three days time anyway. 

But he was definitely keeping an eye on that potential. If it really came down to it, he knew other chemicals existed. Things that nullified those pills which could easily be slipped into drinks for instance. 

Caesar alone had a treasure trove of old Germa 66 data that’d been stolen. Forced fertility was hardly a complicated affair in all the greater horrors Vinsmoke Judge had committed to his own bloodline.

The reminder to Doflamingo that he had no blood family, outside of the more distant ones that he’d gladly kill if they ever set foot beyond their gilded gates in Mariejois, was a bittersweet one though.

If you really could give him that family back one day, he would absolutely use both you and that child to help with the void those last executions had still left him with. It would be something to finally have the Heart seat filled again too of course like he’d considered before. Doflamingo had lost his heart in more ways than one back then. 

———————————

“Doffy.” You said quietly, just this surreal scene something your mind was still trying to accept as you felt his breath warm and soft against your neck in the new light of day.

Well, the dim light of day. The curtains were not pulled shut. But the sky was overcast, gloomy almost.

The perfect morning to never move at all really.

With a sleeping monster coiled all around you, like you were some shiny pebble he’d never let go of again.

But this pebble needed to pee.

Quite badly, with a smaller bladder than him, and all that wine still filtering into it. Something expensive and vintage you couldn’t even properly pronounce, but it’d been that or nothing as thirsty as you’d been last night. As sweaty as you’d been as you’d climbed that pirate as if you’d never see a man again.

Over and over, but somehow you’d still survived him.

If there had been blood again, it’d only been specks. Mostly under his fingernails or yours. And he’d liked it every time. Every claw mark, every bruise and bite. He’d wanted to give as much as receive.

But he was about to receive something worse if he didn’t release you soon.

“I need to pee.” You said a little more insistently. Trying to slide out from between his arms, and those even longer legs wrapped so tightly around you.

But you felt his face press into you even harder. Even that short blond hair now messy, mussed against your skin.

His calves slid against you, warm and tight as a new sound finally greeted your ear.

“….and if I say no?”

His voice was dark, but so thick with sleep still. There was a large hand running down your side again.

“Then I piss on your skinny bird legs.” You threatened.

He made an indistinguishable sound at that, but you felt his lips upturn against your spine.

“Filthy animal.” And now that same hand had moved to enclose on your wrist.

He’d been like this some last night too anytime you’d needed to leave the bed. But he’d been much easier to fight when worn down from all the fucking.

This was now a Doflamingo with a few hours of sleep back in him.

But you still didn’t have the time, deciding to take that challenge. Pulling up your legs so quickly that he couldn’t catch them with his own.

You put the soles of your feet against that hard abdomen of his next as you pushed for all you were worth. Only the strength of one of his hands now pitted against the force of both of your legs. 

He cursed at the pain that made for him, and when he twisted his body, your foot nearly slipped down between his legs. Not intentionally on your part, but you and he both realized how close you’d come to annihilating him right in the balls this early in the morning.

He released you immediately too then. And you hadn’t been ready for that, crashing right off the bed with most of the blankets as you’d still been trying to pull away from him. 

Yet you jumped right back up, though with the bedsheet cascading off of your hip as you thought he might be coming after you to continue the struggle.

But he was only staring at you. Still laying there on the bed where your fall had fully uncovered him. Like some kind of nude adonis in annoyed repose. 

You straightened up at the sight, nude as well and trying not to feel that flush of heat within you all over again.

And he said nothing, but you felt his gaze on you all the way until you’d made it into the bathroom and closed the door for privacy.

But then that was actually worse. Again, just like the night before, not being able to see him meant he could be moving anywhere, doing anything. The same way that snakes and spiders didn’t bother you as long as you could see them. But it was an entirely different matter once they disappeared.

You were trying to listen for any footfalls even as you flushed the toilet and briefly washed your hands over the sink.

But there was nothing and you had opened the door again soon enough.

You saw he had indeed moved, but only to pull the blanket back off of the floor and onto his body. Only his shoulders and head were exposed now. He had the left side of his face buried against the mattress as well in the absence of you. His right eye still watching you, but through a half lidded gaze.

Still that tired then? Poor thing, you thought sardonically.

Yet this was also your chance to get something else done as you tried not to make a big show of grabbing one of the now empty wine glasses off of the dresser. The drinking had started on the balcony with dinner last night, and then moved back inside as he’d herded you into the bed and beneath him once more all those hours ago.

You were absolutely still sore too as you kneeled down by your duffel bag. You unzipped it quietly, just enough to slide your hand in and pop one of your birth control pills out of the foil packet buried within your clothes.

In one smooth movement, you’d slipped the pill into your mouth and stood again. Just walking back to the bathroom to fill the wine glass with enough water from the sink to wash the pill down as you’d swallowed.

“You really are a fucking animal.” His voice cut through rather loudly right as you’d tilted your head back.

You about spit the water out at the sudden gruff voice, glaring back at him through the open bathroom door for startling you.

But the pill did make it down your throat as you’d walked back out.

“What’s your problem? Go back to sleep, pirate!” You fussed, heart rate up now as that’d been so unexpected in the otherwise silence of the dimly lit room.

You left the wine glass back on the dresser as you approached the bed again however.

And that crimson red iris of his right eye was locked in on you, even as he opened the blanket and quickly pulled you back against him once you were close enough.

His grip was stronger than minutes before, painful this time as you felt his cock, already half hard again against your back.

But he didn’t use it right now, just growling a little in your ear. “The problem is that we don’t drink from bathroom sinks, you little savage. If you want water, you ring the help to bring you some. Ice water filtered into a pitcher, not bathroom water from the same room that we shit in…got it?”

And then he was forcing you to turn around again, to face him in the bed before he tightened the blanket back around you both.

Your eyebrows were lowered, knowing he was actually serious but not at all understanding why this was suddenly such a trigger. Why was he so goddamned weird? He’d literally licked his own cum off of your face last night. But drinking from the sink was taboo?

“Yes, Doffy.” You muttered anyway. Intuitive enough to realize that that was also what he wanted to hear.

But he huffed a little regardless. His eye still on yours as he answered. “Watch the bratty tone. I’ll housebreak you yet, little cur.”

And even with the dark clouds outside, enough sunlight was filtering in to start to lose your focus by watching his face again.

He really did have expressive eyes when they weren’t hidden. 

So even as much of an asshole as he was already being to you just minutes after waking, you did find yourself touching his face again soon enough.

And him allowing it as well despite that previous condescending talk while he turned his head so that both his eyes could be seen now. His cheek was against your hand as he still watched you.

“What now, love?” He asked abruptly then. 

Just like that his tone was different again with your touch. But it felt intentional too. You weren’t as naive as he may think.

Like it was still all a game somehow. From cold to warm, then sweet back to sour again, dangling the lure in front of you, then pulling it away again to try and make you drop your guard.

But he was willing to keep it going even if you weren’t falling for this constant switching back and forth fully yet. 

“No, I can’t see out of my left eye if that’s what you’re pondering.” He actually offered without being asked though while you’d watched each other. “Nothing there but shadow and flares of light that bring on the worst migraines anyway. But that left eye was always sensitive to light. Even from birth.”

Well, then he was suited to being some kind of venomous creature living under a rock after all wasn’t he? But he was clearly trying for your sympathy again too.

And he did scowl a little then, that cloudy eye narrowing in tandem with the other. You still weren’t taking the bait to empathize with him as easily as last night he likely realized. Your hormones and desire for him more under control now….mostly.

“But this is obviously a secret you’re now obligated to keep as well, love.” He warned instead. “Being a half blind warlord doesn’t pack quite as much of a threat now does it?”

“I’d bet it just makes you that much meaner actually.” You quipped in return.

His scowl upturned a bit there, a smirk beginning as he didn’t entirely disagree. “Sometimes.”

And really, you would have been fine to leave each other alone from there. An armistice to just lay in Doflamingo’s arms as a lazy morning like you hadn’t had from anyone in much too long. 

With Kuzan the last time…and you supposed it really had to be the last time now, he’d been too drunk. Rolling away from you even hours before it was already time to be back up and in uniform.

And with Smoker, even before the breakup he’d been away from you for months. Your last physical time together, actually having been only a quickie in the bathroom of a damned bar. Just a port town both your ships had been in at the same time. 

Hardly romantic as you’d been bitching at him not to get ashes in your hair as he’d hiked up your skirt from behind and still not put out those fucking cigars regardless. Thrusting into you just long enough for him to cum, and then he’d been done.

No talk of missing you. No lingering kiss or hold at all. Just a man who’d been alone on a boat for too long and needed something to put it in.

You really should have realized his waning interest in you sooner. You and Smoker hadn’t been much more than friends with benefits by the end, had you? And apparently even that had been too much for him to maintain.

It still pissed you off really. How quickly Smoker had just turned and cut you out when you’d thought it had been more than just sex.

“The fuck are you thinking about now?” Doflamingo interrupted as your eyes flitted back to him in surprise.

Had you been showing that past regret on your face? Hell.

And the pirate was indeed watching you with full judgement.

“It’s just been a while since I’ve gotten to stay with anyone. I don’t know.” You certainly tried to stay non specific there. You couldn’t think of any quicker way to violence than to confess to Donquixote Doflamingo of thinking of another man while in his bed beside him.

But thankfully, he didn’t press this time. Seemingly a bit more interested in the handful of your ass that he was then cupping.

“Well you didn’t slit my throat in my sleep. So I suppose I’ll let you stay again tonight…” He taunted a little, but still sounding somewhat lazy as you remained in his grip.

“Because I’m a sailor, not an assassin.” You replied though, a bit offended at that insinuation before you could even help it.

And he did grin again then. “Oh, I’m well aware. Tsuru’s little protege. You two and your pitiful ethics. But…that predictable nature of yours makes this rare privilege possible for you. You think I’d let a fellow pirate curl up to me like this?” 

And there was a look in his eye then that absolutely said he was referring to someone specifically as his words kept on. “My peers may know how to fuck well enough, but we’d kill each other sooner than touch again after the copulating was done. Too much ego between us to make it even one night without murderous intent rearing up.”

“Hate fucking you mean?” You asked, and you didn’t know why you were encouraging him. He’d talk about these crazy things and you’d just start to answer sometimes. 

“Exactly! All lust, no trust.” And he did seem amused, both at your response and his own little rhyme there. 

“But tell me, marine.” And now those wandering fingers were roaming your inner thighs as his eye looked more curious. “What would you really call this instead? You and I?”

And your nervousness was back. His focus so fully on you then. 

“I don’t know.” You said honestly.

“Let’s think about that then.” He said, and you were seeing more of his teeth. That smile that never resembled anything close to friendly.

“Did you like it when I walked you around in public yesterday?” He asked next. “…when I called you my woman in front of those scurrying mice at the store?”

And his voice was dropping too. His fingers gripping you harder in tandem.

“It made you wet didn’t it?” He breathed through that cruel smile. “Because you want so badly to belong to someone.”

Which, that tone only made you think that he must finally be awake enough to start feeling amorous all over again. But those devilish eyes were still thinking, considering deeper things once more.

“I liked the way it felt too.” He said abruptly. “I’ve been thinking of what it’d be like to have you to come back to each night…”

Your lips couldn’t help but part a little again at that when his thumb ran across them. Yet he kept talking, kept suggesting.

“You’re already a captain after all. I’ve no doubt that the rank of commodore will soon follow. And you’ll have your own ship and crew by then, won’t you darling?”

His face had moved in closer to you again then, lips ghosting along your jawline. Hungry little bites made along it, urging you to tilt your head back as he finished his thought. “You do realize that that ship will have to have Dressrosa as its home port, don’t you? I don’t think I’ll be able to accept anything less now…” 

Of course you made a sound somewhere between disbelief and disagreement at those new words. But he didn’t care. His tongue was running wet across your pulse point before he bit down abruptly.

And the palm of your hand was against his cheek just as fast to push him off.

You felt his resulting laugh more than you heard it before he did pull back. Yet only enough for him to outright lick your still open palm.

Which earned another look of equal surprise and bewilderment from you as you tried to wipe that spit back away immediately onto the bedding. 

“And how the hell would that work?” You did ask irritably though, still clearly flustered by his new ideas. “There’s no marine base in Dressrosa. A home port is where the crew members’ families live. Where we stay between assignments and resupply, and-”

“Yes, it’d be the perfect country for raising a family, wouldn’t it?” His voice was so smooth again at that, unnerving almost as it caught you a little further off guard.

He was stroking you idly again too, down your side and over your hip. “Your subordinates would be kissing your feet to get to live in the comparative paradise of Dressrosan casitas instead of those utilitarian marine barracks they’d find everywhere else.” 

“It takes a lot of crew to fully man one of our ships.” You didn’t know why your body was trying to tense again at this subject. Or why you were trying to fight illogical emotions with logical words at all. “That’s not an amount of housing that can just pop up overnight.”

“I’m their fucking king…we’ll designate whatever space I say to. And it’d all be free obviously. Your miserly accountants at HQ could never say no to that.”

“Nothing is free.” You quickly replied. 

And Doflamingo did smile again there. Like a magician conceding that his current audience was more cynical than most. You were still seeing some truth even behind the attractive show.

“Well…you’d be the real payment of course.” He murmured, beginning to look a bit more hungry again.

“Funny.” You tried to deflect. 

“I’m serious.” He contended. And you could feel his hips shift, a rather hard something now poking against your stomach yet again.

“You actually want me to live in Dressrosa?” It felt like a last ditch effort to try snd show him how insane those words really could sound when strung together. 

“Oh no, love. That alone wouldn’t be enough.” And he’d moved again so that long cock of his was now sliding back and forth against your abdomen.

And you looked at him in some confusion. All the while seeing that lust begin to bud all over again in his handsome face.

“Your crew would live in Dressrosa. But you would live in my palace. In my bed. Just like this.”

And he flung the blankets back with those words, before he’d rolled the two of you so that you were fully beneath him once more.

You could see how flushed with blood that throbbing cock already was then, an enlarged vein running beneath it as he’d pulled that lube bottle back into his hand via string.

“Every morning while your ship was in port, woman. This could be us.” He promised even as he was then stroking that lube back over his shaft and the broad head of it. “You could set sail and go ruin as many other pirates as you’d wish…crush my competitors. And then come home, back to me at the end of each voyage. Back to your king.” 

You heard that resealed lube bottle clank against the nightstand as he hadn’t even had the patience to set it back down. Him just tossing it before he grabbed you behind the knees and spread your legs while lifting them up simultaneously.

Your ankles were in the air and then pressed against his torso before he shoved that wet cock back inside of you.

It was always painful. And always amazing too as you saw him smile down at your pitiful expression. Just a woman hopelessly conquered, aroused, and desperate all at once for this ruthless man.

You didn’t care about a future that had yet to be. Whatever schemes and plans he had for you…there was no point of being afraid of what wasn’t yet here.

This stretching and heat and need were what was real. Just blooming all over again and pushing everything else from your mind as you finally found the way to beg.

“Fuck me, Doffy….please.” You whined when he’d yet to begin thrusting at all after that first penetration.

He’d been too busy watching you writhe as you’d stretched for him once more.

And the growl that came from him in return to your plea was nothing short of hedonistic. “Of course. Of fucking course, love. Open up and take me…on two conditions.”

You tried to focus, but even as those damnable eyes of his bid you to heed him, his thumb was now pressing over your clit simultaneously. He rubbed it so perfectly as he tightened that metaphorical snare all at once.

Every prior word, every prior action…he’d been waiting for you to succumb like this.

“I’ll be yours, woman. I’ll even let you come and go from my country. Let you continue with that ‘ambitious justice’ that you’ve so claimed.” The sneer on his face at your particular notion of justice made clear how arbitrary and futile he found the term however.

He did begin to slowly thrust his cock in and out of you too then, dragging it almost to extend each and every tease to all those heated nerve endings inside. “But no one else may have your body this way…not without my full consent. No one.”

His finger was still massaging your clit incessantly with each new word, but not letting your own hips buck up into him as they so badly wanted to. He only pinned you even harder into the mattress, almost impatient for you to comply as he gave the final rule. 

“And you will always return home to me.” There was no smile then. This was absolutely all or none. “Your only true home will be wherever I am.” 

And for the very first time, you may have preferred the red glasses to have been back on his face to cover him. Because that look in his eyes was abruptly unforgiving. But…especially in the wounded left eye actually.

He’d admitted that eye had always been abnormal and sensitive from birth. Even from before whatever incident had later blinded it.

But only in the daylight, and only with it focused on you that dangerously could you now see that larger iris’ outline in full. Its original deep red hazed over to almost a pink beneath the white scar tissue.

And something inside that blinded eye was fully primal. Mad. It was separate of the rest of him in a way you couldn’t explain in that moment. You were afraid of it.

“Doffy…” You tried to call him back to you.

“Swear to me.” He hissed just as quickly though. That pressure from his hand on your clit becoming painful.

He was absolutely hurting you now. Your body caught under his weight as well as he stayed buried as deeply inside of you as he could go. The head of him was pressed hard against your cervix yet again.

You were cornered and you knew it. And even as frightening as that could suddenly be, it didn’t kill your desire for him. 

He was absolutely a monster. 

But he was still the only thing you kept thinking about. The only one you kept needing. You’d keep coming back to him anyway, as stupid as you were, wouldn’t you? Because everyone else kept throwing you away when you’d tried to do better. 

You’d tried to fall in love with marines, and felt like a ship smashed against the rocks both times. Wouldn’t it be insane of you to just keep chasing that same honorable kind of man like Kuzan or Smoker, only to find that you weren’t an honorable enough woman for either of them to ever keep?

“Then what would I be to you?” You pleaded within the pain. Your clit stinging, your cervix aching. “Just your mistress? Your concubine?” Your eyes were starting to sting too. Were you no better than your own brothel working mother in the end? The most you’d ever have in lieu of actual love was just the sexual fixations of a dangerous man?

Yet he spoke these new words into existence and everything else went silent. 

“You would be my wife.”

You weren’t breathing, the bed wasn’t creaking. Every muscle on you both was frozen. Just his unnatural eyes staring into yours.

“You can’t mean that.” Your brain felt utterly useless now. Any words just reflex, completely helpless and defeated really.

“Waiting any longer is only for the indecisive. Once I know what I want…why would I leave it for anyone else to take?” And the tone had changed yet again. His thumb was now moving only in gentle circles on your clit once more.

You spread your legs a little more in reflex. Your goddamned body so confused.

“Say yes.” He insisted still though, even as he started to pump his hips again. 

All the pain in you was being covered up again by the pleasure he now allowed.

You had no choice. You knew you’d be absolutely mauled if you denied him now. Even with every haki trick you had, you may not even make it out alive from this room, as passionate as he clearly was on having your submission.

So you nodded, feeling like you’d just ceded a piece of your own soul to the being above you. “I accept.”

“No. Swear to me instead.” Those same words came again in immediate reply. But this time was different. There was that very faintest hint of anxiety in the Heavenly Demon’s voice. Like a fisherman seeing the catch of his life teetering on that edge of either fully entering or escaping the net.

“I swear, Doflamingo. I’ll have no one else, and I’ll return to you after every voyage. I’ll even be your wife if I can still remain a marine.”

And were you crazy for still trying to add your own stipulation at the end there?

Yes, of course you were. But you’d seen the way he was hanging on your every word then. Your heart had still had that touch of bravery left to rise at the final moment.

And it worked. You saw his smile instantly reform. But it seemed involuntary, disbelieving almost, and entirely nervous on his face. “You can still be both. I have pull higher than even Sengoku…they can’t terminate you. Can’t demote you. You can be the first royal of modern times still in active service…”

And he was starting to laugh too. He didn’t know what to do with himself as it really began to sink in.

“My queen…” he purred, his hips picking up the pace as the bed started creaking once more. “A warrior queen of the sea at that…fuck, it’s going to be so goddamned fun.”

And he was grinding your g-spot for all he was worth soon enough. Having you moaning for him as he reveled in this sudden and wholly unexpected victory.

You couldn’t think about it much more though. Not as your toes curled and your back arched beneath the now gleeful devil. 

It was utterly insane. Him, you, all of it. There was just nothing else that could be done in this moment to save either of you.

———————————

The rest of the daylight hours had been a haze of more fucking, more alcohol, more just being together frankly. Lazing around that beautiful villa together with no one to disturb you. You’d never seen Doflamingo in such a good mood.

At some point you finally had gotten into the shower together though. Which had resulted in more games in the hot steam. You’d gotten pinned against that lovely tile mosaic in the bathroom as he’d actually gotten on his knees to eat you out. Like a starving man who’d never have or want anything else.

It was a hell of a day.

But by the time the sun had set again, you felt like he was missing the attention of everyone else too. He wanted to show you off and parade the both of you to the envy of the other elites.

He wanted to go to the carnival ball.

And what were you supposed to do but entertain him? He had been almost kind to you ever since your agreement this morning. You knew it couldn’t last. Something was bound to set him off again.

But until then, you could do your best to enjoy this rather affectionate warlord that he was currently being.

So you went with him. In the dress he chose for you, in the shoes he chose for you. Your arm around his as you’d gone back out onto the gaslit streets together.

The carnival masks were back on as well. His red one, and your black one. He was in a different suit tonight though. A red one with a black under vest and shirt.

It reminded you even more of the one he’d used to favor in the North Blue. But it was a bit more modern cut, a slightly different shade. 

And still you caught yourself staring at him at times. The way he carried himself, the way he smirked at you as he always had to stay in some form of physical contact with you.

He was right in the way you loved the attention. But was he right to say that you did wish to belong to someone? 

It looked like you were going to find out. Unless he got tired of you before he went through with this whole Dressrosa as your home port plan.

Gods, you still had no idea what to really think, or how any of it could even work. So you kept trying to live in the moment at least as you’d ended up in the biggest ballroom you’d ever seen.

Royalty and nobility were all around while musicians in tuxedos played more songs Doflamingo knew and you did not.

“Who taught you how to dance anyway?” You had finally asked him as he lead you in another slow spin. Him somehow keeping time to the music even better than all the other couples you were trying to imitate around you.

You weren’t as clumsy as you’d been in the street the day before at least. But it was still far from intuitive to you, though you were trying.

“My mother taught me.” He answered, no real hesitation either that time.

But the way his mouth was downturned slightly, you were quite certain that woman was also no longer alive. Though you supposed rarely would anyone with a loving family feel a need to set out on a life of crime anyway. 

You certainly hadn’t had a real maternal figure until you’d met Tsuru. Your own mother had been far too young, and just trying to survive herself. There’d been no room for you really.

“She sounds interesting. Swan owner, dancer…” You dared to continue that topic though. Hoping maybe his good mood was still enough to allow you to pry into him a little more.

After all you’d promised him this morning, that seemed more than fair to know a bit more about the man you’d just tied yourself to.

But then again, this particular man was hardly known for his fairness.

Yet with your hand tightly in his as the violins continued, he did reply. With more than expected actually. “No. She wasn’t interesting at all really. Quiet. Submissive. Wholly fragile and quickly gone…” But the somber tone in his voice still belied more regret than just those plain words. “Like taking a rose from a greenhouse and expecting it to survive in the mud outside with the weeds. Of course she couldn’t do it. She passed away when I was eight.”

Saying sorry would be too pointless. You hated useless platitudes like that. So you wouldn’t do it yourself.

“Was that still in the North Blue then? Is that your home sea?” You asked carefully instead. It should have been a harmless, neutral question really.

But you saw Doflamingo’s chest move as he took in a larger breath.

“I know you’ll figure it out eventually…and yet, we’re having a nice night aren’t we? It’s been an excellent day actually. Is this really what you want to know right now, love?”

And of course you couldn’t understand the change from such a simple question as the opaque lenses in that carnival mask were then looking down from above you.

When the current song ended, he’d led you back away from the dance floor as well.

There were small circular tables all over with flowing table cloths. Wait staff moved effortlessly between them, taking food and drink orders from whoever may wave them down.

“Let’s get something to eat and perhaps we can talk a bit more.” He said as his hand moved against the small of your back, guiding you to a table of his choice.

He still wasn’t angry, just guarded.

But you’d already seen his real face now. And you knew what kind of cutthroat pirate he’d been and still was. What else of his past could be that important to him?

And you did let him do the ordering as soon as a waiter had indeed rushed up. Doflamingo was always going to take charge regardless you were finding. Picking your clothes, picking your food too…

You didn’t care right now, though you should have. It was just more control of course. Even as much as you’d already given him of yourself today.

But food was food in this moment. You’d barely eaten today with all the other in bed activities. So you just idly surveyed the room while the waiter explained the current entrees and the chef’s recommended wine pairings to your warlord date. 

It was an old habit of yours maybe. Situational awareness and an idea of who was where, where the exits were, plus the general mood and threat level at any given time when working with a crowd.

Yet here was just a lot of fluff and self serving people putting on displays for one another really. You’d even clocked the father and sons you’d first escorted to this island. They hadn’t recognized you of course. How could they have when they’d never even looked you in the face when on Momonga’s ship? You hadn’t been worth it to them.

The youngest son had spilled wine on his date somehow. She was having a fit, and the father was stepping in with heaps of apologies. She must have been even richer than them then. The fact that there were hierarchies within hierarchies for these people just made it seem all the dumber. 

Such a waste of energy. And you were about to give up watching any of them, bored in their manufactured drama and flamboyance before something else caught your attention.

A group of people were moving against the general grain of everyone else. Stiff and organized, something you recognized immediately as tactical. Two in front, two in back, and one on each side.

You stretched to see better, past the socialites and their petty conversations. 

That group was moving someone in the center of their formation. A young girl actually, certainly no more than ten or so. Her blue ponytail was swishing side to side, even with her body so tense. Her shoulders were hunched defensively as she was being pushed forward with one of the men’s hands clamped down onto her shoulder from behind.

You could see the silent tears in wet streaks down that girl’s face. That terror in her eyes that you’d seen so many times before. You knew exactly the kind of thing that must be happening, even if no one else did as you immediately stood.

——————————

Doflamingo had just been committing to the    fiorentina steak dish and a polenta entree as well for the two of you to sample together when he’d seen you stand.

Belatedly noticed because you’d been on his left. But that spoke of his already increasing trust in you really, letting you guard his blind side even subconsciously. How he’d often keep his officers to his left whenever seated.

Yet that didn’t mean he expected you to actually do anything from that position. He tried to grab your wrist as you’d moved forward. Seeing that tenseness in your body immediately and not understanding it a bit before you’d dodged his touch easily.

The waiter was just as confused and in the way really as Doflamingo stood fully as well. He moved his fingers, ready to stop you if he had to.

“Where the hell are you-“ He started to demand you to explain.

“No time. Stay. I’ll be back.” You said so quickly though. So different and commanding. Before one slightly softer note of, “I promise. I’ll be back.”

And you didn’t even look at him before you’d disappeared, almost in a run then into the crowd. Him left standing at the table, inexplicably hesitating.

You’d told him to do something and he’d actually listened.

He was as dumbfounded as the waiter who now excused themselves just to say they were going to put his order in.

But they didn’t get far.

No one did before the first gunshots rang out.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[ask-cyantist]

[Cyan considers the both of you, narrowing her eye lens. She lets out a sigh.]

"I guess that's fair. Impostors are a relatively new phenomenon, since the expeditions for MIRA only began a few Zumiran years ago. Alright. I'll try to explain my theory as best I can."

[Cyan waves for you to follow into the specimen lab. She flips up a projector from a stand, and clicks out half the lights. A few taps on her MIRApad activates some slides.]

"From the limited information I've been able to gather- small sample size, and all... Impostors as we know them can only perpetuate as an offshoot of existing crew mates. They cannot exist in a vacuum- to put it simply, Impostors are a drastic transformation that Beans undergo due to external factors. Stress alone cannot trigger it, because otherwise we would have experienced outbreaks of impostor killings long before achieving space flight. Impostors cannot breed more impostors- at least, I really hope they can't- but they can spread their condition to uninfected members of the same species.

"Beans are not the only sapient race that have Impostors, it CAN exist in other species- but I imagine due to our genetic makeup, the differences in how it manifests must be quite vast. The common factors I've been able to deduce from my own research and sparse records across MIRA's database is that Impostors crave proteins, particularly fatty tissues, to an almost manic degree, and they kill to feed and satisfy that need. In our particular region of space, I have one known, documented source of Impostor genesis."

[Cyan clicks the slide, and her expression darkens as she looks at the image.]

"...a species native to Polus, which I dubbed a 'Boreworm'. Calling them a 'parasite' isn't entirely accurate. More like a symbiote- though not by choice. I thought they were exclusively burrowing polychaetes... but I was wrong. Turns out, they spend most of their life cycle sheltering inside an unwilling host for protection. Boreworm infestation does provide some benefits, like expedited tissue regeneration, improved flexibility and heightened senses. But I wish I'd never found the $#%& worms in that dirt."

[Cyan takes a deep breath, re-centering herself.]

"I don't believe there's some secret space coalition of Impostors out there. If there was, we Beans would have been wiped out as a species. Impostors are stronger and heal faster than normal Beans- if they could organize, we wouldn't stand a chance. I've also found that a sort of territoriality is present among my ilk. We don't like other impostors, for various reasons. I suppose for normal impostors, who succumbed to the borderline feral instincts, it's a simple matter of competition. More impostors means less 'food' to go around. For me- my crew is my family. I don't want any of them to die... even if they hate me."

~~~~

@thomasdimensor @impostercrewmate

[Mod: I'M BACK IN THE SADDLE BABYYYY. Thank you both for your asks! :DD I finally got to touch on my personal headcanons for impostors!! And also I laughed at how accidentally similar your wording was hehehe~]

[I could go into more details on the Boreworms, but the post was getting long enough as-is xD So I'll save it for another ask if anybody is interested in my ghastly little parasites~ Enjoy the horrifying implications!]

[mr-laveau]

hiya, dog here! this is for lav's listener design lab!!

Crow Folkestone, aka Freelancer/Voyeur/Deviant/Silly!

Crow grew up moving around a lot and with not great parents. When his powers started manifesting, his family treated him even more like the dirt on the bottom of their shoes. After Caelum appeared to him for the first time, he ran away from his family and went no contact with them

He's very much got a grunge/skater kinda vibe to him. A lot of thrifted and oversized stuff. Baggy jeans, big shirts and sweatpants, chunky sneakers, yk the vibes

He's transmasc (he/they/it), he presents pretty masc but he doesn't bind and has a pretty large chest, so he kind of appears androgynous because of it

Crow is white (irish/scottish)

About 25-26 ish?

Crow is chubby, with large thighs, a thick tummy, large chest, and the kind of arms that dads who don't work out but are still very strong have

Gemini

Crow's closest relationships are the D.A.M.N. crew. my version of redacted has them as a polycule! crow and gavin are primary partners though. they love their boys so much. and also caelum, but like. he's their son

Crow has a numerous amount of hobbies, from photography (loves bringing a digicam everywhere he goes, esp with the D.A.M.N. crew, and recording memories), to writing poetry, to singing and playing guitar/bass, and more! They love video games, and reading books, and watching videos, and writing, and hanging out with the crew!

Not technically a deity, but a hero from myth: Crow would be Patroclus. Their dedication to their friends and lovers is so strong they would die for any of them. They don't want to be the hero, and are uncomfortable with the attention it can bring, but they're thrusted into the role anyways and have grown because of it

Redacted Audio's D.A.M.N. Storyline!

Crow is incredibly dedicated and very understanding. Past relationships have made them very much a pleaser and go-with-the-flow about things (/neutral, some partners were good, most were not, but both experiences shaped him). They understand limits and don't expect anything in return, even if they secretly want someone to dote on them. Crow wants to be the muse and not just the artist sometimes. In the past they were more the one doing things for their partner/s, so having Gavin do things for them like they would do still catches them off guard now and then. For their friends, Crow likes to treat them almost like other partners; that same dedication is given to them as well. Crow likes making sure everyone is happy and is heard

Crow values being truthful to oneself greatly, as well as having love for humanity

just existing by daysormay !

Crow is the truest "listenersona" i have, so their design is actually based on what i look like irl! just with a few differences (eye color and some minor body details mainly)

Crow stands at 5'8 1/2, with shaggy/curly dark brown hair in a shag mullet with fluffy bangs. A small braid hangs from behind their ear, given to them by Caelum. They have brown eyes and freckles across their face and body. They have piercings on their face and ears (septum & paired nostrils, center labret, stretched ears [2g], four more piercings in each ear), and tattoos across their body. Recently he got on testosterone. He's pretty hairy. Almost like a cub?

Crow is absolutely a puppyboy. It's also a polyglot! He calls Gavin "playboy", as well as "lover boy". Absolute stoner. It's assigned the D.A.M.N. crew as Muppets. He is just chef's kiss.

This listener lab design is one of the coolest things ever! Is it weird to say thank you? I love when creators give back to their community like this, and this is such a good way of doing that!

ty again!

LaVeau-gue - design #002 - Freelancer - Crow - Redactedgender

Heyo! You're welcome for making your design, I don't think it's weird really, it goes a long way to remind people that artists and creators are in fact human and do not exist for the benefit and entertainment of fandoms or people (you wouldn't believe the sense of entitlement on some folks really) but enough about that, here's the design for crow!

Design Notes!

There's a little something I like to keep in mind sometimes and something that I have to remind myself about from time to time which is:

"Sometimes people don't want your extra touch, they just want you to draw something for them."

That is something I had to keep in mind for this design so instead of going on a tangent in regards to how my own, I'll just let ya know how I interepreted your notes:

In particular, I chose to just take your visual notes literally, making sure to incorporate the different piercings where I could make them visible. Other stuff like its haircut, freckles, eyes and hair type were just thongs I took at face value.

Now when it came to a few other elements, things got tricky:

You specified that Crow had tattoos but never specified what those tattoos were so I decided to improvise by incorporating barbs, the anarchist symbol, a broken heart, a "live" tatoo and a star om their arms since they seemed to make sense for his backstory.

In terms of fashion, I leaned into the skater/grunge aesthetic to create something easy, breezy that could fit the vibe but also felt androgynous whilst leaning into masc territory.

A few special tidbits I incorporated was the braid-by which I mean that I used a pink hair tie on it to colour match with Caelum and gave Crow a hot pink collar that I like to think he got from Gavin.

Crow genuinely feels like a character who doesn't see themself as the main character but perceivs himself as an extra in everybody else's life, its fashion does come from a more bold subculture but they also seem very much to be the type to be the lone skater dude. In conjunction with this, your pick of Patroclus was interesting as it general supports my theory that Crow likely doesn't see themself as their own person but as a part to other people's stories. As such, I felt it best to give crow an appearance that would match that, something that would at least look different to your average Joe but wouldn't seem to out of place in a city like Dahlia I'm California.

And that's your LaVeau-gue design! Hope you enjoy it! (Oh yeah I also changed the name to LaVeau-gue since I liked it more)

Wanna have your listener designed by me? Check out my rules for LaVeau-gue and send an ask my way!

[moonlight-tmd]

Ooh regarding shockbee I always thought a fun idea to write out would be Bee just dropping the fact that he has a Prime for a boyfriend or something like that, considering only Bulkhead would really know about being close to Longarm at Bootcamp-

Yep, Bee would defo do that. XD

He would be just talking with someone and then they'd mention something about relationships and Bee just casually drops that Longarm is his Sparkmate and the fact he's a very high ranking Prime(even if he's just doing datawork all the time).

Imagine the look on that bot's face when they hear that from a streetwise, dirty repair bot. They'd think he's lying but then Longarm shows up to pick him up from the party or something and everyone's jaws just drop.

Now i imagine Longarm and Bee got together at boot camp and only Bulkhead knew, they weren't really keen on showing affection in public. So then Bee gets kicked out and Longarms stays to graduate. They call each other all the time, Bulkhead sometimes joins, the rest of the crew doesn't really know about that.

But then Bee and the crew goes missing. Longarm is distraught, he does everything he can to find Bee. Then he hears about an expedition to this planet called "Earth" and he tags along and boom, they find each other.

So they get there, they find the missing crew and the Allspark and the few 'cons along with Megs. But that's not on Longarm's(Shockwave's) processor- the only thing he cares about is that Bee is alive. (also Bulkhead too, he does care about him but not as much as Bee)

Longarm visits quite often- he tagged along on Steelhaven and has his own mini-ship to fly in and out of Earth's atmosphere. The others are surprised he is at their base so often, they know he, Bee and Bulkhead went to boot camp together but that's about it.

Now i imagine Longarm bringing them sweets and stuff, he'll bring them meal-metals, fancy (non-'alcoholic') drinks and all sorts of snacks and maybe some small gifts- the one to get the most of them will be Bumblebee.

One time Longarm drops by for a real short visit and brings an entire energon cake for Bee only. And not just any cake, it's a high end one too, the luxurious kinda food. The others have no idea why Longarm would give Bee out of all the 'bots something like that.

"Because we're Sparkmates, duh. Also it's our anniversary." He casually said while taking another bite of the piece of the cake on his plate. The look on everyone's faces (except Bulkhead) is hilarious, especially Optimus'- the little mech he treated almost like a son is Sparkmates with the high-end Prime, Longarm. Longarm outranks him now that's he's on the repair crew, for the record.

So- the little, humble Bumblebee has access to luxurious stuff via his lover who's a high-positioned Prime. He's able to essentially get whatever he wants and indirectly influence other bots' lives- for the better or worse. They never expected someone like Bumblebee to have that kinda power.

The surprising part is that Bee doesn't really seem keen on all the opportunities for his own life to improve, he'd rather live his life to the full- and he does that by being stranded on a planted called dirt and helping tiny organics with mundane things while also indulging in their weird culture. Sure, he does like an occasional high-quality polish or rare cybertronian food, but most of the time he likes to run around in the rain and play in mud and dig in trash to find beautiful things. Similar to Bulkhead- he's happy with what he has, and enjoys spending time with the ones he cares about.

Still, the fact he doesn't take opportunities to get himself somewhere higher in life doesn't mean he won't do anything for others- he most definitelly pulls a few string to get stuff for his friends, for example; Ratchet gets better med equipment and Optimus gets access to specific files if he needs it. I imagine Prowl would get some ninja equipment from Jazz sometimes but that's not important.

It's a cool thing, a headcanon for the ship is you will, it's definitelly something Longarm(Shockwave) would do. Just spoil his little Bee with all the sweets. And Bee casually telling (or not) that his Sparkmate/Conjunx is a Prime. XD

[maeleelee]

Chapter sixteen

Liquor Lips

PC x Skz!Frat Boys.

Feel free to replace your name with one from the crew, Mae and Minho are the main characters in this story.

Sleeping with him was a mistake, but telling him about her feelings for the guy her best friend likes was what she regrets the most. Now she's stuck doing everything he says in fear that if she doesn't, he'll tell everyone and her friendship will be ruined.

⚠️minors DO NOT interact⚠️

Warnings: sex mentioned and implied, recording themselves is mentioned. Threatening to fight, Getting dirt on cheer squad, calling Jamie stupid.

Masterlist

Back || Next

Taglist: @cadenonlinelive @weird-bookworm @imagine-a-life-like-this @mxnsxngie @choisoorin @littleleatabixx @acrylishly @babyboyquokka @nyro-in-new-albion @bunnyiix @turtledove824 @jiisungllvr @vampcharxter @aaasia111 @blessedblog02

[skullfacedlady]

The Council Pirates

Meet the most unintentionally notorious pirate crew to sail through the Grand Line: Eri, Tey, and Megi (from top to bottom). These three women have somehow amassed impressive bounties and infamous reputations, despite being the epitome of first-class idiots, coming right up behind the Strawhats. Some dare say they are even bigger idiots.

First up is Eri, the crew's navigator. With a penchant for flirting, especially with their enemies, much to the annoyance of her other crew members, Eri's coquettish behaviour is either a brilliant distraction or a genuine attraction – nobody's quite sure. Her charm has a track record, though, and underestimating her would be a grave mistake, for her skill with a sword combined with her devil fruit is surely a deadly combination.

Then there's Tey, the sharp shooter. While her aim with a pistol is unmatched, her true talent lies in her mathematical genius. She meticulously maintains their log books and even conducts statistical analysis on Eri’s flirting success rates, turning chaos into quantifiable data. But that may be a front as well. The amount of dirt they have amassed in their log books of not just various Marine officials but other pirate crews is truly astounding. That proves that behind their idiocy, there may be some brains left.

Leading this motley crew is Megi, the captain and engineer extraordinaire. Megi’s love for tinkering is rivalled only by her inexplicable habit of bringing various animals aboard their ship. From rats to fishes, Megi’s menagerie often leads to uproarious situations, much to the frustration of her crewmates who stand at the ready with brooms as their choice of weapon. But br careful, keep your alcohol under a watchful eye because Megi won't hesitate to add it to her already growing collection, which resulted in them constructing a fully functional bar on their ship.

Such a peculiar and silly name for a crew, no? Well, it all comes from the fact that each of the members had a codename for themselves. Eri got the codename 'Congress', Tey 'Accountant' and Megi 'President'. And together, they made up the Council.

If you thought that we were finished, wait until you find out that all three of them ate devil fruits, rendering them useless if any of them fall into the sea. But, not all hope is lost when that occurs, for an honorary member of the pirate crew is there to come to the rescue of the three idiots, who is even more elusive to their enemies than they are. Jadranko holds a special place in their hearts, loyal to a fault. Who is Jadranko, you may ask? Well, that's a story for another time.

@dreamer-in-red here they are :)

[theenpcbracket]

THEE Official* TTRPG NPC Bracket!

Every TTRPG party has That One NPC that they’ve latched onto.  It might be an NPC who’s become a member of the party.  It might be a god.  Maybe it’s your wizard’s familiar.  It’s probably that one shopkeeper from that one town with the craziest voice you’ve ever heard come out of the DM’s (or if you’re the DM, your own) mouth.

This bracket is designed to celebrate those NPCs!  Tell the world about why they’re so special to you and your party.  You’ll learn about all the wildest, most wholesome, most villainous, silliest, and everything in-between NPCs out there, and be able to cheer yours along in a Tumblr-typical bracket-style tournament.

All the guidelines for your propaganda can be found on the submission form here!  I have it set so your personal information will not be recorded.  Please only submit NPCs through the submission form so that I can ensure that I have them all and Tumblr didn’t eat any of them.  

EDIT: Submissions will be open through midnight, EST, on 7/5/23 (previously 7/2/23)!  Please spread the word so we can celebrate as many beloved NPCs as possible!

More below the cut for examples of propaganda, inspiration, and tags for other polls!

An example of submitted propaganda may read something like:

Name: Marcy Relationship to the party: The Queen of the Winter Court’s secretary/assistant Party Name: Heel Turn Crew Image: [would be here or as a vs graphic]

What makes them the best: She’s incredible at her job and on top of all her shit, but she’s also deeply a gossip and here for a good time.  She’s not gonna reveal state secrets but she will give you some dirt if she likes you.  Caffeinated to all hell.  She’s less than a foot tall because she’s a pixie but she has the personality and voice to fill a room.  The vibes and energy of a New Jersey mother of four who’s lived in town for thirty years and is not about to let Big PTA get one over on the new kindergarten parents.  Would probably smoke with you if you asked, but not during work hours.  Has at least two exactly identical desks.

Quote: “Listen hon, come back in an hour.  There’s a great coffee place, you go two blocks straight out the door and hang a left.  Have some coffee ‘cause it’s to die for, I don’t know what they do to their dark roast but it’s incredible, then come on back and I’ll get you in there with her.”

The inspiration for this bracket came from @wizardbracket which was very fun!

Edit: there was another blog that was originally an inspiration for this bracket the mystery character bracket op is a wild transphobe so I’m not touching that with a ten foot pole lol. That shit will not be tolerated here and you don’t have to come tell me about it because lord knows they’ve been rather direct about it in their recent posts.

Tagging some other bracket blogs whose audiences are likely to overlap with this tournament.  Please don’t feel like you have to boost!  I just wanted to be sure that if I was going to tag any ongoing brackets, it was because I felt it made sense to do so!

@best-dad-battle @foundfamilyarena @found-family-tournament @foundfamily-tournament @ultimate-tragic-couples-showdown @certified-dumbass-competition @mostpatheticlittleguy @group-oc-tournament @homemadegirlbossbattle @dragon-tournament

[cult-of-the-eye]

Feeling shitty so I'm gonna treat myself to MAG 84

MARTIN K BLACKWOOD MY BELOVED

oh my god he's so plainly nervous omg this is such a difference to jon

the way jon does his whole pompous ass speech listing way too much information to look like he knows what he's doing but martin is way more pragmatic the way he just gives the necessary information

its so funny that the apparent least skilful of the archive crew is taking up the statements and doing it better than jon

he's really getting into it, he's doing the voices and everything

at first i couldn't get over how Martin he was but it sort of fades as he gets into it

is margaret carnegie someone i'm supposed to keep track of?

hoarding, dirt, the dump

corruption vibes

rat butler that's so fucking funny kids are so creative with their insults

loved the scary stories? i guess that part wasn't what scared him but i think it does raise an interesting point about what avatars do with people who get joy from a fear - do they hate those people? see them as challenges to make the joy turn sour?

what the fuck is she doing with gordon??

the way he said rot oh my god

baked beans????? lol

ew

EW

EW WHAT THE FUCK

FUCK THE FUCK OFF MAGGIE

GORDON WAS FINE????????

GORDIE'S DUMP.

oh my god that means someone did that to maggie before her, how long had this cycle been going??? who was the original?? was she priming him to become her all this time??? why him?? and who will be gordie's next victim?? wow i wonder what happened to the statement giver, it would've been interesting to see what he did next

oh god poor martin

his whole brush with jane prentiss and the worms and the corruption and the next time he's doing a statement its another one about fucking worms

that's so creepy horror institute of them i bet elias somehow made this happen

he's doing better than i thought he would be tbh

the biggest thing he's worried about is if it was a good job or not

i guess he still wants jon to come back and scold him about some mistake he made in the recording

HE STILL CALLS HIM THE HEAD ARCHIVIST. HE IS REFUSING TO ACCEPT ANYTHING ELSE. HE BELIEVES IN JON MORE THAN JON BELIEVES IN JON REALLY.

ABSENT. fuck. hd

tim if he feels like it - HA that's so tim and also literally me

i actually once had a similar experience to that

hmm yet another thing i have similar to Tim

he doesn't have jon's emphasis on rigorousness cause he doesn't feel the need to prove himself, he thins all he can do is get it done so that's what he's doing

what's this little slip up with i vs we? did he drag tim with him? was tim so unhelpful that martin did it himself so he was gonna be like yeah fuck this i did it myself but then he stopped himself and was like no we did it together?

classic inside bitch outside nice person martin

pneumonia - newspaper pulp?????? cancerous growths???? insect legs???? fuck off oh god SOMEHOW STILL MOVING ew ew ew

IT WENT MISSING

GORDON TOOK HER????

i think it's interesting how martin doesn't have the same scepticism as jon, which seems obvious cause he's had multiple run ins with the paranormal, he'd have no reason to disbelieve that it could happen but what's interesting is that he believes it happened to him. yeah i think the fact that he's dealt with worms before and the anxiety of not being believed probably makes him inclined to believe him or even he's just got way too much to worry about rather than whether or not someone's statement is fake

i wonder if anyone's got any good archivist!martin headcanons i feel like that would be so cool

melanie king!!!!!! why is she looking for him???

SHE GOT SHOT IN INDIA????? HER WAR GHOSTS???

it's so cool that throughout all of that, she's come to jon to talk about it cause he's the only one who understands

i guess he has that sort of charm about him

the statement is so disoriented its clear she was looking for jon and jon only but still martin offers to take her statement

he's trying to be as helpful as possible despite everything

jon's missing, they think he killed someone - i love his non-accusatory language

ha accidentally bore them to death - I LOVE YOU MELANIE

HE DIDN'T ha he's so indignant

i'm so happy that jurgen leitner's legacy has become "old man who got pipe murdered"

YEAH if jon were to ever murder someone, he'd do it in the most convoluted, worst way possible, like try to poison someone and end up accidentally counter acting it in some way or some shit like that

oh god they don't know about the not them and sasha oh no that's gonna be devastating when they do find out

god the institute really is where you come when you're desperate and out of options

he listens - i think that's the first good thing i've heard someone say about jon in the entire podcast oh my god

martin trying to be helpful again

ELIAS FUCK YOU FUCK OFF

martin's so nervous around him!!! i guess he's still the big boss and he's lied on his CV

HE KNOWS GHOST HUNT OF COURSE HE FUCKING DOES THIS CARTOON VILLAIN OF A MAN HONESTLY I BET HE WATCHES ALL THE PARANORMAL STUFF EVEN THE SHITTY ONES LIKE GIGGLING AND KICKING HIS FEET JUST FOR THE FUN OF IT

he even kept up with the fact that ghost hunt ended as well the bastard

"showed surprising promise" even his compliments suck

oh my god all of this is just a wink wink to jon. she doesn't know how much promise she actually had, she doesn't know how deep the paranormal stuff goes

martin's trying to get her to leave YES YES he's smarter than people give him credit for

he's such a snickering evil bastard oh my god he knows jon will come back or daisy will kill him so he doesn't need to worry about filling vacancies until daisy tells him otherwise

FORMAL QUALIFICATIONS AREN'T EVERYTHING, MARTIN

HE KNOWS. OF COURSE HE KNOWS. OH HE'S SUCH A DICKHEAD.

god he's desperate like what do you think you're gonna say to try and stop someone from taking a cursed job in front of said boss of cursed job while you are in the same cursed job

THE STATIC INCREASES

problem, martin?? FUCK EIHBCBIKLBRWILNW

MARTIN TRIED TO STOP HER. THE ANGER. ANGRY MARTIN SUPREMACY. HE WAITS UNTIL HE'S ALONE TO BE MAD. EVEN HIS ANGER IS TO SERVE OTHER PEOPLE. WOW.

Amazing episode. I hate elias. I may hate insects more. Ew.

[lawomi]

From the Start ch4 - Trans Trafalgar Law x AFAB Mink Reader

Chapter 4 - The Wolf at Sea

You encounter Law during your first night on the Tang. Law reveals to you a side you didn't expect and your feelings for him deepen. Still, as days pass, you begin bonding with everyone else, causing an unintentional rift between you.

MINORS DNI

I created a Wattpad that includes some art from me. Not too much right now, but eventually I might update with more than just the cover lol. Arts been tough for me lately.

Chapter CWs: Nonconsensual touching, jealousy, possessiveness. Voyerism? Sort of.

The next day, you groggily get out of bed, still adjusting to the change in sleep schedule. Moving down from your bed, you see Ikkaku and Robin are still asleep. It must be early, you thought. Walking towards the window, you realize all that could be seen was pitch black ocean. Hair rising, iris shrinking, chills running rampant, you recall the Polar Tang is submerged. How deep? Trying to catch even a sliver of light from the moon, but nothing. You shakily step away from the unknown, moving into the room towards the door. Your night vision worked just fine within the Tang, surely getting out of this claustrophobic room would help. Opening the heavy bolted door you glance down the hall before closing it behind you. Small lanterns lit the walls, helping your vision further.

Your keen ears caught the sounds of not only the cruising motor, but two of the Heart Pirates talking directly above. They were likely steering and keeping watch. Instantly, you feel more at ease, although you were still queasy. The floor still felt as though it would shift under you as you slowly walked down the hall towards a particularly bright light coming from under a door. Thinking back, you recalled the Heart Pirates telling you about their captain.

“The captain? Oh, he loves coffee and onigiri. Despite being a doctor, his diet is dirt poor,” Shachi had laughed. “When we set out to sea food was scarce and once we had a cook, it became easier, but his diet never quite returned to what it was while we lived with Wolf.”

Wolf, you smile, recalling Law had passively mentioned him, too.

“Beside his diet, he can’t catch a wink of sleep, either,” Penguin pitched in to the conversation as though he were Shachi’s twin. “He never sleeps when we do, especially when he has a lot of work to do. We turn in our findings to him each night about the Tang’s condition, plus those monthly exams are tough to get through. He always has a book he’s recording his important findings in and makes sure to study the books he collects along our journey.”

That’s a lot, you think to yourself. He must be stressed out often with so many things to keep track of. Yet he still manages to be a captain, waking early in the morning to instruct them, doesn’t he?

“Oh, yeah,” Bepo laughed brightly, always so happy to gush about his captain, “He gets up early to check how we all slept and to make sure we eat breakfast. He worries about us and he makes sure we don’t overwork ourselves. Not so much himself, though.”

He's kind, Isn’t he? You muse, thinking back to the articles you read describing how callous and calculated a person he was. Yet, the crew had said he would help people – for a fee – island to island. He was keen on studying any disease he came across in hopes of saving people. In the end, the poorest people were treated first and for free. Your heart couldn't help but beat faster, your mind focusing on him as you walked. A sensitive man despite his cold, closed off exterior. He was handsome, he was cool, he was gentle, he was strong. Above all, he loved others. Oh, no. This crush is worse than I thought.

As you reach a conclusion to your thoughts, you reach the room with the light peeking through. You press your ear to the door, assuming you wouldn’t hear much anyway save for the tapping of a pencil. Suddenly, your blood rushes as a blue aura encases the area around and beyond you.

“Shambles!” You catch his voice, but instantly you’re standing in his room. “What are you doing?” Law shrilled. You cover your face, hiding your embarrassment behind your paws. It didn’t help you hadn’t dressed, even if in mink form it was difficult to see the details.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to spy. I’m sorry, sir…”

Clearing his throat, Law stood from his desk chair. “There isn’t hiding much from me on this ship.” He walked towards you with purpose. You didn’t look, too ashamed to remove your hands. He wrapped his hands around your wrists, then pulled your hands from your face. Your snout tilts away, waiting for him to yell. “Wolf mink-ya, I’m not angry,” his voice had softened significantly. He reached up and pet your ear, gently scratching behind it thru your hair. Concentrating on the sensation you try to steady your breathing.

Your eyes finally look up to meet his. He looked very tired, his eye bags more prominent than usual, but his eyebrows were knit together in worry. You finally smile and shake your head, paw spread over his that pressed into your hair. “I’m okay,” you murmur, “I can see in the dark, but when I looked out the window there was no light. I know many areas of the sea are empty, but it scared me anyway.”

Law nodded, “The Polar Tang is a unique experience even for senior pirates. The ocean is one of man’s biggest fears,” his inked hand made its way down now that you had let it go. He pet the fur along your shoulders, arms, down to your paw. He held it as he did your human hands, rubbing circles into your knuckles. His long digits curled to feel the palm of your paw, curious to examine your paw pads that lined them. “Your paws are different than Bepo’s,” he smiled warmly, “They’re just as soft, though.” A blush once again spreads across your face as his other hand touched the rolls of your belly, pleasure bloomed along each squeeze. Slowly, the hand moved up to your sternum. “Did you feel all that?” he asked smoothly.

“Yes,” you felt ashamed saying so. Somehow, this interaction made you feel very strange. You backed up enough to remove his hand from between your breasts.

“Oh,” Law sighed, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t let myself get curious without your consent like that… I wanted to know if you had more than just the two, that’s all. Not to mention, I’m lacking sleep myself.”

“You assumed I wanted your attention regardless if you asked,” you said softly, still allowing him to hold your paw. “That was rude, but, it is a little true…” you grin sheepishly at him. “I didn’t expect you to touch me when I look like this.”

“You’re still Y/N-ya, aren’t you?” He teased, a duchenne smile causing the rooms light to dance along his iris’. “If anything, this is what you originally look like. It would be ridiculous to not think you as a whole person unless you’re human.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. He was being so honest, you weren’t sure what to make of it. Did he… “Are we just friends?” You ask softly.

“Yes,” he scowled instantly. He let go of your paw and turned away towards his desk. “I don’t mean to confuse you,” he muttered as he sat down.

“It’s okay,” your heart was aching, but it didn’t matter. You walk forward and sit in his guest chair. “Can I accompany you?”

“…,” he stared at you a moment, looked down at his paperwork and sighed. “You’re not to do this again,” he scolded, “You shouldn’t be wandering the halls at night, let alone coming to my office. You can’t stay long, I don’t want the others thinking anything of it.”

You nod, “I will go in five, sir,” you smirk and watch him focus on his paperwork. “You might want to teleport me to the room, though… I am only in my underwear,” you teased, giggling.

He looked you over quickly and nodded, a blush painting his cheeks. “I’m exhausted, but you’re right.”

“In the meantime, you can do whatever you like,” you offer, a sly smirk on your lips.

Law scoffed, “Bad dog,” he teased right back. “I always do as I like,” he rolled his eyes, “and I like organized paperwork.” You laugh, earning a small smile in return.

A long moment of silence passed. You had crossed your arms and rested your head, slowly beginning to drift again before you spotted a book on the desk with no title on the side. Curious, you reach over to check it. Law doesn’t seem to notice, busy taking notes as you open the book. The book was hand written, the first page titled *Autobiography; 13-16*. Turning to the second page where the writing starts, you realize it’s in first person. As you read, you take note that the protagonist of this book lost someone and that they were walking through snow. Law’s slender fingers interrupt you, taking the book away from you.

“You didn’t ask to read that,” his acid tongue was telling, the book was personal to him.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur sleepily. “You lost someone at 13?”

“Yes, Cora-san, my savior.”

“Savior?” You tilt your head, “That’s a big title. I’m glad he saved you.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, “I still haven’t killed his murderer, Doflamingo.”

“Isn’t he in prison?” You recalled the Straw Hats mentioning it during the banquet at the Guardian’s District of Zou.

“Yes, after Mugiwara-ya defeated him,” he seemed okay with this, his demeanor still calm.

“How kind of him. But not quite satisfying for you, hm?” Your eyes brighten a little bit, the conversation shaking you of your sleep.

“No,” Law gripped his pen tightly. “I want his face caved in,” he growled, “but I refuse to kill like that anyway. Cora-san wouldn’t have wanted that. I just can’t stand seeing Cora���s face on that man’s torso.”

“Maybe someday I can help you with that,” you grin wickedly, licking across your teeth. “I enjoy battles that involve plenty of blood.”

“I see I’m not the only morbid one here,” he chuckled darkly, then shook his head. “That’s not how we do things, I’m afraid. He can rot slowly in that prison, unable to escape, watching the world change while he’s helplessly chained. Thank you, though.” He looked back at his work again. Suddenly, tapping the little bear decoration on the end of the pen against the table thoughtfully, he looked back at you. “I suppose you can read the book, if you want.”

You sat up now, surprised, elated. It didn’t feel like a small gesture, surely this was practically a diary to him, right?

“Don’t get too excited,” Law furrowed his eyebrows, “Make sure no one sees you with it and don’t go around talking about it, alright? Only Bepo, Shachi and Penguin have read that.”

“W-why are you letting me, then? Aren’t they your closest friends?”

He looked down and nervously tapped his pen again. “Well, I’ve seen between your legs. That was already personal enough, right?”

A pause.

“Law, you’re a doctor,” you chortle, cupping your nose with your paw.

“Tch. Not for doctor reasons, I didn’t,” a sly grin spread across his face, he rested his cheek on his wrist. Maybe he liked that you called him Law. He averted his gaze and leaned back, pressing his lips together. “You should go to bed now. I’ll do the same.” You frown, disappointed, but nod in response. He can’t help but laugh at you, “There’s no use begging. I am not risking the crew knowing we ever had anything between us. It was meant to have been a one time thing…” he seemed to realize too late it may hurt you to say that. But it is the truth, he thought.

“Yeah,” you agree, although a twinge of pain pokes at your lungs. “I’m the one who wanted to join and I knew there was a chance of a no. I begged you that night knowing it could be our last meeting. I know,” you let out a slow sigh.

Law nodded thoughtfully, thinking hard about what to say. Finally, though, as the silence stretched he said, “Room,” and “I’ll see you later, Omi-ya,” he chuckled, “Remember: Don’t do this again.” Although he had been serious before, he seemed playful this time. “Shambles.” Lifting his fingers, he teleports you and the book back to your bunk. You were stunned a moment, allowing yourself to absorb that you were now sitting at the edge of the bed. You see the women still sleeping, so you lie down - think about this dark broody man over and over - until you too fell asleep again.

You instinctively slap whatever it was that was tapping your face, turning over deeper into the bed. A tug on your wolf ear wakes you completely, you flip over in surprise to find a dismembered hand wiggling its fingers at you. Yelping in surprise you sit up quickly and see Nico Robin down below, laughing at your reaction along with Ikkaku.

“Good morning, Wolfy!” Robin chimed. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Although, I didn’t expect to see you quite so naked.”

You roll your eyes, “Lesser minks need to learn everyone has breasts.” Begrudgingly you slink your way down the bunk bed ladder. “It’s good to finally meet you properly, Ms. Nico. Instead of at a banquet, I mean,” you smile meekly at her. She reminded you of that broody man, but it was only her looks. Her personality was bright and bubbly in contrast. “May I greet you?”

“Greet me? Haven’t you already?” Robin giggled. Ikkaku whispered something to her quickly and she laughed, then nodded. “Yes, of course. You don’t need to ask me, I love affection like that.”

Canine glee filled you. You threw yourself into Robin’s arms, who caught you easily, holding you bridal style. “Garchu!!” You wrap your arms around her neck and press your face into her cheek. Her laughter filled you, your heart raced and your tail wagged enthusiastically. Ikkaku looked on with what only could be described as envy.

Robin, still holding you, walked over to set you on the couch. She used her ability to grab you a set of clothes. “Come on now,” she gently prods your cheek with a dismembered hand’s finger, “Get dressed. I do agree with you about the breasts, but in our custom you can’t be running out like that in front of men—I suppose we are pirates, but it’ll only result in a lot of blood.” You snort at her comment, got dressed, and jumped up back into her arms. She grinned at you, “I suppose I should let you keep some customs, shouldn’t I?” The three of you made your way to the galley, the others just arriving down the hall as well.

“What on earth—Oh, right! She’s a mink,” Shachi nudged Penguin with his elbow.

Penguin ignored him, but he looked troubled by the sight of you with Robin regardless. “Aren’t you supposed to be one of us?” Penguin’s arms were crossed, he was pouting as if Law had assigned him of disposing of the Tang’s waste for a month.

“Someone’s already jealous,” Ikkaku teased, flicking Penguin’s nose as she passed. Penguin chased after her to the table, his signature hat hiding his expression. Shachi followed them, losing his shit over Ikkaku’s slick move.

Robin sighed, “It’s true. If you don’t want me to steal you away, you should probably make them hold you instead,” she beamed cheekily. “How about you get yourself a seat.” Notably, the others were looking at you and Robin, finally tearing their attention from the hooligans that came in screeching. Robin was about to put you down, but stopped short. “Oh, hello, Torao!” She turned her attention to Law, who was staring at you with an odd expression. He seemed to want to forget whatever was just happening, walking forward to his seat. Robin finally places you on your feet and you obediently find your own seat beside her.

“When does Penguin get to hold you,” Shachi was mostly egging Penguin on, his attention and nudging entirely focused on his best friend.

Penguin shoved him toward the table, “Sit down!” He looked a bit pink from what you could see. They both finally sat, especially quickly thanks to Law glaring at them. There were fewer pirates than usual in the galley, indication some either had eaten earlier or avoided breakfast. You wonder what Law usually chose yourself. He looked quite tired; had he slept at all? Bepo brought the coffee pot to pour each person a cup. There was cream and the like on the table for said coffee, so you think ahead to grab what you need as he came around.

“Nico-ya,” Law yawned, “Did you sleep well?” She seemed to be the only Straw Hat besides Franky at the main table this morning.

Robin leaned against her knuckles, a warm expression pleasantly wrinkling the corners of her pretty blue eyes. “Wolfy came back to bed quite late last night,” she was clearly treating Law like a water balloon, trying to poke a hint out of him. His expression remained as stoic and neutral as ever. “Regardless, I slept quite well.” Ikkaku stifled a laugh, not wanting to cause a scene.

Law’s ever cool, piercing eyes landed on you. You sip your coffee, flattening your ears as if it’d make you less of an eyesore. “I see,” he shrugged, “I didn’t hear anything. It's not good for guests to be slinking around my submarine without a guide, though,” his eyes shift to Ikkaku. Ikkaku looked nervous now, it was her responsibility to keep watch of the guests while they were in the women’s quarters after all.

“Don’t worry, I noticed they left. It’s my fault, of course,” Robin’s flirtatious look made Law glance away. “I’ll make sure to keep Wolfy in line.”

“Tsk,” Law smirked, “I do trust you the most among the Straw Hats, Nico-ya, but you shouldn’t try to take responsibility. The crew know what their rolls are. And they know the type of punishments I like to give.”

Robin laughed, “I’m sure for not paying attention, you’d remove their head and leave it displayed in a cage, wouldn’t you?”

Law grinned, clearly appreciating her dark humor. “You’re not too far from the mark.” Ikkaku dared not look in his direction for the moment, feeling his sadistic expression burning a hole in her cheek.

You felt excitement fill you again, playfully leaning on Robin. There was something magnetic about her just as you felt for Law. Apparently, you had a type. A partial forearm and hand sprouted atop your head, scratching you behind the ear. You closed your eyes and hummed, rubbing your cheek into Robin’s shoulder in minkship.

Opening your eyes after a few moments of bliss, you see Penguin looking a tad downcast as he finished his coffee. Shachi stared in your direction, smiling gently when you met his gaze, though you couldn’t see his sly eyes behind his sunglasses. “Speaking of watching Wolfy… We haven’t had a nice mixed bath for months among the Heart Pirates. I bet Ikkaku would be overjoyed to finally join us since she’s not the center of attention no more.” Ikkaku shot him a death glare. “I recall Bepo and Hakugan mentioning one on an island coming up soon,” Shachi nudged Penguin once again, who had perked up, but remained hiding his face behind the brim and flaps of his hat.

You glance towards Law who you realize was staring quite intensely at you, though you couldn’t identify the emotions behind his gaze. “I’m sure everyone could use some socializing,” He said, averting his eyes towards a much happier Penguin. If they want to join us they can. What do you say?” he looked over at Robin who was focused on you. You lock eyes with Robin, grinning broadly and taking her hand. Law cleared his throat to grab your and Robin’s attention.

Franky raised his huge hand from the end of the table instead, “Absolutely, Torao! We’d love to. Sounds SUPER!” He had a huge smile, chuckling at his crewmates clear interest in you. “Robin sure is sweet. Always giving people the attention they deserve when they like her,” he teased you. You look over at him in surprise, a blush dusting your cheeks.

Law eyed you suspiciously, unsure what to make of your and Robin’s affection nor even of Robin’s clear interest in himself. She had flirted with him during her exam, too, but he paid her no mind. She was a respectful woman. She loves to tease people, that’s all that is, Law dismissed the idea she might actually be promiscuous. Of course, even if she was, she had every right to enjoy herself. How could a pirate judge another pirate?

Thank you, Torao. I’m fascinated by this one as well. Robin’s words echoed in his head. Come to think of it, she was an information gatherer. She could sprout an ear anywhere she pleased… He wondered if she had spied on you both during the banquet on Zou. He’d have ample chance to confront her on the island.

Several routine days passed. You had been spending much more time with Robin, openly showering her with cuddles. Ikkaku, too, but she’d get rather flustered by it. You also made sure to give Penguin some affection as he seemed depressed; a nuzzle from you seemed to give him an energy boost. Occasionally, you’d be found snuggling Shachi or anyone else you began to trust. Raizo had showed you his ninja skills and you couldn’t help but fawn. Kine’mon was rather creepy, so you kept away, but Kanjuro was okay. Meanwhile, Zoro was a particular favorite, who didn’t seem to mind your minkshipping despite having rejected plenty a mink before- he was incredibly hot, to boot. Usopp & Franky loved you and gave you bear hugs, sometimes together. Bepo tended to follow you around closely, always wanting to snuggle or show you something cool. So far, it was fun!

Law in the meantime was keeping himself busy in his office, telling the crew what needed to be done daily and gathering as much intel as he could on the Beast Pirates and Wano. Unfortunately, the retainers of Oden only had limited information on how Wano currently was. They had been away from the country for some time in search of Momonosuke. Sometimes, he would appear around the Tang and although you did try and give him an embrace or two, he was always off-putting. He did not want public affection, but even when you caught him alone he was silent and walked away. It made you nervous you’d done something wrong.

Finally, the Polar Tang docks at the next island. The Heart Pirates prepared to restock on supplies and fuel before running off to enjoy themselves. The main three of the Heart Pirates along with Robin, Usopp and Zoro kept you company as you explored the island. It was a rather large town with plenty of shops to look through.

“This is really cool,” said Penguin, having ended up beside you as the others dispersed to different shops. His hand gingerly pushed yours, his fingers occasionally grazing until you confidently took his hand. His face lit up into a cherry red, but he held your hand tightly, his other hand gripping the brim of his hat.

“I appreciate you protecting me, Penguin,” you say in a smooth, loving voice. Penguin does a little skip, nodding vigorously, but staring at the ground. You take his arm and hug it between your breasts, enjoying how he panics and makes the silliest dopey face you’d ever seen. He was so cute.

From afar, Law had come out of a pharmacy and was watching you and Penguin. He sighed gruffly, the bag on his wrist rustling when he adjusted his idling position, hands shuffling some medications he had picked up to recheck the dosages. He swore to himself whatever he felt boiling in his stomach was just him getting sick. It had nothing to do with you or all the minkshipping you were indulging in with other people. When you found him alone or tried to make advances of affection it was just anxiety towards Kaido that made him feel too nervous to your touch. He was just worried about everything, everyone, and about Mugiwara who he doubted kept a low profile against Big Mom in her own territory. He hoped that idiot would survive.

Nothing to do with jealousy. He didn’t even recognize what that felt like. All he could conclude- if he thought about it long enough- was that Robin and Penguin in particular made his skin itch when they showed special interest in you. Something about it made his skin crawl, despite these two people being people he trusted to keep you safe. So why?

He placed the medicines back in the bag, deeming them suitable for his needs, and took out his grocery list to make sure everything was checked off. There were a few more things he needed elsewhere before he would get ready for the bathhouse. He had already booked the mixed baths for his crew and guests.

“Torao!” called a familiar voice. It was Franky. “What’s up my man? I helped Ikkaku grab some equipment for the Polar Tang. I plan to help spiffy things up, aye? The Tang is SUPER sophisticated, I’m obsessed with learning how submarines work better. I could use the information to improve the Sunny Go’s Shark Submerge III!” Franky’s enthusiasm was infectious, Law found himself smiling and nodding, approving of Franky’s help.

Glancing up towards you again, Law sees from far down the road that you were now facing Penguin. A shiver ran down his spine, his eyes grew wide and teeth grit tight as you planted a kiss on Penguin’s cheek, laughing heartily as the man fell to his knees with his arms wrapped around your thighs. His cheeks rested against both your knees, you could feel the heat of his cheeks radiating through your pants. He was too cute, you could tell he was in love with you. What that meant for the both of you, you weren’t sure. To Law however, it was outrageous. Why? He didn’t know! It just was!

“You’re looking a little… hot under the collar,” Franky said to Law, grinning cheekily. “You jealous?”

“NO!” Law hissed, whirling around to stomp to the next location. Franky laughed, following him close behind.

“You can open up to me, Torao! Relationships can be tough, how many have you had?”

Law ignored him, walking into the next shop. He went in to pick up some personal wine for his office. Maybe a pack of cigarettes to relax and talk with Corazon for a while. It didn’t matter, he just needed to clear his mind.

“Hey, now.” Franky insisted, patting Law on the back, “Don’t become an alcoholic over a crush,” he joked.

“It’s not a crush,” Law corrected, leering at him.

“Right,” Franky snickered. “Hate to break it to ya, but you’re down bad.”

Law scoffed, glaring down at a bottle of vodka. “No,” he finally muttered, “I’ve never been in a relationship.”

“Oh, I see.” Franky nodded. “And we’re pirates, so that makes it tougher. Hmm…”

Law rolled his eyes, “I have more important things to worry about.”

“Sure,” Franky shrugged, “But people get lonely, y’know? Robin and I spend time together sometimes, but we aren’t official…”

“I didn’t ask,” he felt that weird clench in his gut again. He walked away, heading for the counter to pay and pick out the cigarettes. Franky, like all the Straw Hats he’s ever interacted with, insistently followed him, paying for him. He sighed, “That wasn’t necessary.”

“It’s fine, we’re friends, buddy,” Franky ruffles Law’s hair. Law groaned.

“You Straw Hats don’t get what a fucking alliance even is, huh?”

Franky laughed loudly, “We’re friends regardless.”

Law’s expression softened. He walked out with Franky. He immediately looked towards where you’d been standing, but you were gone. He bit his lower lip, wondering where Penguin had taken you. Ugh, what does it fucking matter. Her body isn’t mine or something, Law cursed himself.

Franky once again rested a hand on his back, “If you ever need to talk about it I’m around, yeah?”

Law finally redirected his gaze to his list again. “It’s just stress. Nothing more, nothing less.”

It was finally the hour to meet at the bath house. You were excited, taking Penguin’s hand and Bepo’s paw towards the bath house. Your other escorts had reunited with you, too, and followed with beaming faces. They all liked your energy, enthusiasm, and your confidence.

You all enter the bathhouse. At first, it separated by gendered locker rooms. As usual, you chose the women’s lockers as it was quieter anyway. Only Robin and Ikkaku were with you, you saw Ikkaku was looking irritated and Robin looked amused. You had a feeling you were going to walk in on perverts, but there was also Law, and Zoro who would keep them in line. You thought about those two quite a bit, a little too excited to see them on display yourself. I’m kind of a pervert myself, huh. You giggle to yourself.

The three of you headed out, Robin beside you and Ikkaku semi-hiding behind you both. The Straw Hats had already jumped into the gorgeous steaming hot spring, the rocks displayed beautifully and a small waterfall could be heard over the men chattering. They all stopped and looked at you all as the door closed. Zoro walked over to you, a towel around his waist, he had been waiting by the door.

“You all good, ladies and others?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Yes, Zoro,” Robin chimed. She took his arm affectionately. “Thank you for protecting us,” she smiled. Zoro nodded, eyes averting and a light blush touching his cheek as Robin leaned her covered breasts into his upper arm. He guided the three or you into the water, glaring at the twenty plus idiots all gathered to stare.

Penguin fluidly swam over to you, a dopey grin once again gracing his face. He looked quite different without his hat. He had a mop of black hair a bit like Law and his eyes were red, typically associated with Fishmen. You smile warmly at him, accepting an embrace. He moaned ever lightly in your ear. You laugh, holding him close with one hand in his hair.

Shachi protested, jealous he didn’t get a hug and some of his crew followed. You laughed and accepted a few more hugs, although Penguin refused to let go. Law stared from one side of the pool, his arms spread out over the edge of the bath. His face was red from the steam—or so he would say. He wanted to tell his crew to back off, but he dared not out himself like that. Zoro meanwhile was glaring at Kine’mon whom he knew made you uncomfortable. He dared him to make an advance, making Kine’mon shrink into the water from your glare. Momonosuke wasn’t with them, he stayed cooped up in the Tang as he did in Zou.

“Nico-ya,” Law called Robin, only a few steps away. She looked at him with an inviting look. Once close enough, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Beautiful tattoos, Torao.”

“Thanks,” he remained indifferent. “I wanted to ask something in private.”

“Oh? What’s that?” she leaned on the side of the pool, resting her elbows on the edge and her head on her laced fingers.

“How did it occur to you I could like that mink?”

Robin giggled. “Well, I can tell. Not necessarily that you like them, but you are attracted, aren’t you?”

Law rolled his eyes. “Sort of.”

“Do you want me to call them ov—”

“—No. I’ll talk to them eventually myself.”

“So what does it matter?” Robin tilted her head a bit.

“Then why do you seem interested in them-- in me-- in Franky or Zoro?”

“You’re very alluring and we are very similar,” she said honestly, her warm expression unchanging. “As for Franky & Zoro, that’s my personal business. I do like Wolfy, they seem fun and I feel loved in their presence. Don’t you think so?”

Law remained silent, staring at you again. Penguin had let you go and the men were all laughing, jabbing him with jokes as he had grown erect and shrunk down into the water covering his still clothed crotch. You seemed pleased with the power you had over him, your eyes sparkled with amusement. Law clenched his jaw again.

“Do you think they don’t like you?” Robin asked, now turned around and watching the scene. “I saw you had a night out with them on Zou, didn’t you?”

So she knew, Law looked back at her. “Don’t tell anyone,” his voice held a hint of acid. Robin simply nodded, unafraid.

“How nice, would you reveal what you both did?” Robin grew closer, making Law tense.

“No,” Law squinted at her. “I had another question.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t respond to mine. Do you think they don’t like you?”

He raised his forearms in irritation. “Well they seem to like everyone else!”

Robin chortled, unable to hold in how funny he was to her. “They are a mink. But your friend seems very interested. Shouldn’t you hurry?”

Law glared at her. “I…” he didn’t know how to finish that. He’d basically just admitted it to himself. “I barely know them,” he concluded, “We have no idea if we’ll survive the next island. I don’t plan to know them. I’m not like Penguin.”

“Understandable,” Robin leaned on him, causing him to tense again. “But it’s good to spend the time we have wisely, isn’t it?”

Law didn’t respond. He watched you splashing at Ikkaku and the others. It had grown noisy. Zoro argued with Shachi about touching you a certain way, Bepo joining Ikkaku to splash, betraying you entirely. Penguin made sure to back you up. Meanwhile others were doing canon balls, cheering, chatting or relaxing. Law suddenly felt a trickle of warmth run down his nose to his chin.

You stood there, having accidentally undone your towel, your breasts were on full display above the water. They all gasped and stared. You sighed, lesser minks were far too sensitive about this. Penguin had dunked himself under water, either on purpose or on accent. You still have it covering your lower bits, you peek under the water to see he was just covering his crimson face.

“Th-They’re like a work of art,” Jean Bart commented from his place beside Franky, the older men were all talking in a circle at the far end. Kine’mon had predictably lost it as did most of the others.

“Now that’s confidence! SU~PER!” Franky posed, proudly sporting his bloody nose.

Law wadded forward and stood in the way of the view, “Come with me,” he demanded, one hand covering his own bloody nose.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What are you doing, Captain?” Penguin asked quickly.

Law lifted your towel to cover you up once he wiped his blood off. “Nothing,” he sneered. “I’ll be back.”

“Hey, now. They aren’t part of your crew,” Zoro sharply remarked, coming between you both. “They aren’t a Straw Hat either, but I ain’t letting you take them to point B, capiche?”

“Well,” Law stared at him intensely, “I’m a captain. And you lot are on my ship. It’s my responsibility to care for everyone. If you have objections, take it up with whomever gave me the responsibility. It was your captain, by the way.”

You felt your excitement escalate. In response, you slink over and hop onto Law’s back like a koala, earning a yelp from Law who hadn’t expected it. Of course, you weren’t heavy to him but he was still shocked. “It’s okay, Zoro~,” you nuzzle your face into Law’s hair. “I can handle it.”

Penguin stared, his red eyes clouding a tad. His shoulders sagged after a moment, Shachi’s own red eyes landed on him and came over to comfort him. Law ignored them, walking passed Zoro even with your weight and the water exhausting fruit users. Zoro had accepted your words, but he watched on skeptically. Robin joined him, leaning on him again.

Law sighed and walked out of the bath, making sure his towel was secure and trusted you were confident with your arms around his neck, your legs hooked around his waist. You used one hand to also make sure your towel covered what you wanted. He brought you into the men’s locker, going over to his locker to fetch something.

“Are you going to keep doing that?” He asked, your breasts were hardening against his back. You blush but tighten your arms. He sighed, “I need to ask you something. It’s bothering me.” He moved to sit on a bench, using a clean towel to dry his hair. It was his turn to blush as your hands slowly felt up his chest as he moved. You bury your nose into his neck.

“What’s the question, Dr. Heart Stealer?” You tease.

“Are you like this with everyone?” he asked bluntly.

“Like what?”

“Flirtatious. Do you fuck everyone?”

“No,” you blushed fiercely, “Only if I really like them.” He dared not ask the next question, but you did it for him. “Do you like me?” you whisper.

“In a sexual context,” he emphasized, “Sure.”

“You seem a little jealous. Maybe possessive,” you grin into his neck.

He thought a moment, gazing at the ground. He shivered when your lips met his skin, kissing along his pulse point. He tilted his head away slightly, giving you more room. You bite him, making him groan.

“Quit it,” he remarked. “They can’t see those. Just, be with me,” he whispered. “Be loyal to me— on my ship.”

“No,” you bit his shoulder.

“Ngh! Why not?” He grit his teeth, gripping your hair in one hand.

“I want life long commitments,” you lick the love bite you left, “And even then, it won’t be one person. Plus, you won’t even make me a Heart Pirate.”

Law’s eyes narrowed, he felt angry and confused. “Well I don’t feel the same,” his husky voice cracked slightly, his eyes water.

“If you change your mind, talk with me,” he felt you slide off his back. He stood quickly to look at you. You smile at him, walking towards the bath again. He could see your eyes trail his body, especially around his chest.

“Wait,” he took your wrist, “Let me show you something.”

You touch his tattoos as he pulls you close, then down to where his hands fumbled. He dropped the towel. It revealed first a womb tattoo, but more importantly a vulva. His hard engorged clit barely covered by the lips and hair. You stare, quite fascinated. You can’t help but reach forward and cup his member. He stomach visibly flinched, his hips bucking into your hand involuntarily.

“I really like you,” Law echoed the words you expressed about people you wanted, “But I hate seeing you with them, too. It’s driving me insane.”

You let go of his dick. He walked closer, touching your hips with both hands, squeezing possessively. “That’s okay, jealousy is normal,” you rest your hands over his, “I want to know you, too. We can be friends with benefits, but not a commitment. You have to get used to me being with others, sir.”

He squinted at you, clearly perturbed. He wasn’t sure how to process this idea. “Right,” he muttered, pouting, “It isn’t a commitment. But I want you first,” he insisted.

You giggled, “Now?”

He glanced down, blushing. “N-no. Let’s go back to the bath.” You watch him crouch to pick up his towel, then to allow you back up onto his back. You grin ear to ear, happy he seemed to enjoy you on his back.

[mywifeleftme]

273: The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band // Will the Circle Be Unbroken

Will the Circle Be Unbroken The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band 1972, United Artists

Who can endure a sentimentalist music critic? Still, this morning anyway, my heart’s fit to weep over a one-hundred-and-ten minutes of exultant roots music and a beautiful idea executed to perfection. The notion behind Will the Circle Be Unbroken was to use the Dirt Band, a crew of talented longhairs from California, as a bridge between the trendy country rock of the day and the genre’s pantheon of avuncularly voiced pioneers. (And I guess in Maybelle Carter’s case ‘aunticularly voiced.’) Many of these sorts of intergenerational tribute projects give me queasy tasting notes of hapless arts council funding or the rap number from Walk Hard, but somehow this triple LP from the heart of rock’s imperial phase manages to be both reverent of traditional country and bluegrass history and present these genres as living organisms.

The Dirt Band are joined by a Field of Dreams cast of legends, plus an adjunct wing of ace players like fiddle genius Vassar Clements, and while the Dirties sneak in one original the focus is squarely on the standards. None of these takes supplant the originals, but the recording fidelity, superlative playing, and warm communal energy make for lovely alternatives. Merle Travis’s “Dark as a Dungeon,” one of the greatest folk and country songs of the century, has never sounded more lovely or doomed; Doc Watson gives Jimmie Driftwood’s “Tennessee Stud” a broad-shouldered boisterousness; Earl Scruggs and the Dirt Band’s John McEuen present the classic fiddle reel “Soldier’s Joy” as an infectious banjo duel. 

Many of the songs include snatches of studio chatter between the band and their guests: Mother Maybelle sounds like the sweetest old thing imaginable; Roy Acuff comes off like as much of a pompous Haven Hamilton-type as I’d always heard he was; Jimmy Martin gives elderly prospector cricket. The tapes are even rolling for the first meeting of guitar legends Travis and Watson, who have an adorably awkward little chat before declaring themselves “buddies.” These peeks into the process are part of Circle’s artifice, but it feels like an honest attempt to capture the historic nature of the summit. The album rounds off with nods to the deep past in the form of a number of Carter family cuts, an homage to bluegrass father “Uncle” Dave Macon, and a group singalong of the spiritual “Will the Circle Be Unbroken?” But then, right there at the end, we get 17-year-old Randy Scruggs performing a solo instrumental take on Joni Mitchell’s 1968 “Both Sides, Now.” The symbolism of the teenaged son of Earl Scruggs playing such a recent (and aptly-named) tune is clear, quietly closing the circle between past and present, a pact sealed.

273/365

[deepspacedukat]

Misfit Toys - Part One

I was rewatching TNG’s two-parter “Birthright” and I was reminded of this amazing, overlooked Romulan. Tokath deserves to have the spotlight for a minute! This fic is going to be three parts, and I’ve written parts of both the other chapters already, so I have a pretty firm idea of how I want all of this to go. Enjoy!!

If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist let me know!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Tokath (ST:TNG) x Reader

[A/N: I haven’t decided whether there will be smut in future chapters, but for now, this is just fluff.]

Warnings: Descriptions of a crash but nothing graphic, discussion of injuries but nothing graphic, mentions of dried blood, flirting, emotions, a Romulan trying to be comforting, eventual Human/Romulan romance.

~*~

In the early morning of the Carraya System, a streak of fire lit up the skies above the lush jungles of the fourth planet. Many of the Romulan residents were awake already, but the few that weren’t found themselves jolted into consciousness by the sound of a vessel crashing through the trees and grinding to a halt.

Tokath, who had been savoring a raktajino as he watched the sky beginning to hint at sunrise, grabbed a disruptor and rushed outside to a group of his men.

“Report,” he barked, and one of them described the object’s trajectory. “You three come with me. The rest of you alert the remainder of the guard and take your positions on the perimeter.”

Using their scanners, they located the crashed craft rather quickly. The ship had broken into three sections upon impact with chunks of twisted metal and debris scattered through the underbrush.

“Fan out and search for survivors!” Tokath called, and for several long, silent moments, all that could be heard were footsteps and the haunting creaks and groans of heated metal cooling and settling in the low morning light. Tokath had counted six lifeless bodies by the time the silence was broken.

“Commander!” Tokath moved toward the Centurion who’d called for him, only to find him crouched beside a Human woman. One of her legs was quite obviously broken, and he couldn’t even begin to guess at how extensive her other injuries must be. Beneath all the dirt and dust that had settled on her clothes and skin, the elder Romulan could see that she was undeniably beautiful. “Sir, she’s alive, but she’s severely injured.”

Tokath knelt by the woman’s side and grasped her wrist just firmly enough to check for a pulse. Judging by the way the bones shifted slightly in his grasp, he surmised that her wrist was broken as were several others. She let out a low moan of pain and blinked slowly up at him, stealing his breath. Her eyes were clouded with pain, but utterly entrancing. As quickly as she grabbed his attention, she’d lost consciousness, leaving Tokath nearly breathless.

“Take her to an empty set of quarters and have Ta’lana do what she can for her. Hurry, she may be dying,” the Commander rasped as he stood and got out of the Centurion’s way. If this lone Human was the only one who survived out of the ship’s crew, then they had to help her. It was unlikely that she would recover fully in her current condition, though. Their medical knowledge consisted primarily of Klingon and Romulan physiology.

And yet...Tokath felt his breath catch unpleasantly in his chest at the thought that one so lovely as she might die on his watch. Rising to his full height, he steadied himself and began his search anew. If she survived, perhaps someone else had, too - someone who might know more about Human physiology than they did.

After they’d combed the area in detail, Tokath and his men gathered in a somber little group. All told, there had been seventeen people aboard that small craft of varying ages and origins, but the only one who had withstood the crash was the poor, broken Human who was now under Ta’lana’s care. Ordering his men to find out what they could from the ship’s records, Tokath went back to the compound.

L’Kor stood at the gate, gray beard blowing gently in the wind, waiting for the Commander’s return.

“What news?” The old man called when the Romulan was within earshot. With a grim sigh, Tokath’s brow furrowed.

“There will be no more survivors to care for. She was the only one,” he said as they both fell into step.

“How many?” The Klingon’s question was quiet and somber as it always was when discussing what he considered needless, honorless deaths.

“Seventeen in total, sixteen of whom are dead. None of the others are Humans, though,” Tokath responded, drawing a curious grunt from his companion. “Where did M’Ven put her?”

“The east wing. Ta’lana is tending to her. Tokath...if she survives, which of us will be responsible for her? She’s not Klingon or Romulan.” L’Kor had a point.

The Commander didn’t hesitate.

“I will be. My men found her, and I ordered her to be cared for. She is my responsibility,” he said, and the Klingon nodded his head.

“Then, I hope she survives. She would have a much gentler recovery under your care than under that of a Klingon,” L’Kor said before shuffling off to go arrange for a group of volunteers to clean up the crash site. If there were any salvageable components, those would be taken, but, most likely, it would all be unusable. There were also the bodies to consider. Some cultures had rather extensive burial rituals. L’Kor would wish to honor them, and Tokath would certainly not object.

Putting his instruments and disruptor away, the Romulan gathered some supplies and headed for the east wing.

“How is she?” Tokath inquired as Ta’lana stepped out of the room that the woman had been placed in. The Commander carried a small basin of fresh water and some clean cloths. It was a sentimental gesture, to be sure, but if nothing else, he believed that she deserved to meet her death with a clean face at the very least.

“If she were Klingon or Romulan I would’ve been able to do much more for her. As it is, I have repaired her broken bones and stopped her internal bleeding. There is little I could do about the rest,” the aging Klingon woman said as she wiped some alarmingly red blood off of her hands with a rag that was stained the same color. “I put her in a fresh nightgown, as well. If she is to survive, then she must do so by sheer force of will. She must rely on her own strength now. I will give her this: she appears to be quite strong for a Human. If she is alive in the morning, then she has a chance.”

Tokath acknowledged her statement with a nod of his head and stepped into her patient’s room as quietly as he could. She looked so peaceful. Walking to the side of her bed, he took up the seat that Ta’lana had occupied only moments before and dipped one of the cloths into the warm, fresh water. Wringing it carefully out so that it was only slightly more than damp, he reached out and began to wipe away the blood, dirt, and general grime that had found its way onto her skin during the crash.

Unbidden, a memory arose of him doing something similar when his daughter, Ba’el, was ill as a young girl.

She’d been feverish and delusional with an illness that none of them had encountered before. Cooling her with a damp cloth was an old tactic, but one that ultimately saved her by helping her body regulate its temperature. She’d stirred several times, but there was only one instance where she was lucid.

“Papa?” Her voice was weak and thready, but it drew Tokath’s attention instantly.

“I’m here, little one. You’re not alone,” he’d murmured dabbing the cloth gently across her cranial ridges. Her eyes were cloudy, but they met his with an almost unsettling stillness.

“Am I going to die?” The question reached into his side and made his heart ache. He couldn’t lie to his daughter.

“Not if I can help it, but you must fight. You must be as fierce and strong as your mother, Ba’el, and never give in,” he murmured. “Do not give up, don’t stop fighting, and...don’t be afraid. I’m here with you. Promise me you will fight, and, no matter what, I will be here by your side.”

And he had been. For three straight days and nights, Tokath hadn’t left his daughter’s side. He’d kept his promise, and Ba’el had kept hers. She’d fought the illness off with all the tenacity of her Klingon heritage.

Now, as he sat by the bedside of a Human woman who was flirting with death, he resolved to do whatever he could to help her live through this. He didn’t even know why he was so determined to make her well. All he knew was that it was extremely important that she not succumb to her injuries.

“My name is Tokath. I realize you don’t know who I am, lhhei, and I can’t be sure that you’ll hear me, but I will make you a deal,” Tokath said to the sedated woman. He wiped the final bit of dried blood from her forehead, and dipped the cloth back into the water as he spoke. “If you fight this, you will not be alone in your recovery. Though there may not be any other Humans here, I will personally ensure that you do not feel lonesome. But, you must fight for your life, now. Do not give in. Alright?”

She couldn’t answer. He knew she couldn’t, but he had heard that sometimes unconscious people could recall what was said to them once they awoke.

“I shall be back in a moment with some more supplies for you,” he stated quietly as he dried her face with a separate cloth. “Perhaps I should tell you a story when I return. Would you like that?”

Silence again met his query, but he allowed himself a hint of a smile nonetheless.

“You look like the curious type. I bet you would enjoy hearing about the set’leth that saved my life as a boy.”

He told her that story and several more when he returned - he had accrued dozens of odd tales over the course of his long life. Telling a few to someone who might not even remember them couldn’t hurt.

Over the next three days, Tokath had a sort of schedule. For the first portion of his morning, he received reports and speculations from his men about the Human and the ship she’d been on. Apparently, their destination had been a small colony less than a parsec away. None of the passengers were of the same species, which made the Commander wonder what in the stars her reasoning could have been for going there. Did she have family there? Was this some sort of a personal exploration? He had many questions that needed to wait until she awoke.

If she awoke.

Next, he had a quick breakfast, attended to his work in his study, and spent the rest of the day by his patient’s bedside. He whiled away the hours alternating between reading quietly and telling her stories. It seemed like a futile endeavor, but if there was even a chance that his rambling was stimulating her mind in some manner, he was going to take it.

These little conversational sessions had become almost therapeutic for him. Since his wife, Gi’ral, passed and his daughter went off to explore the Klingon homeworld, Tokath didn’t have anyone to confide in. Oh, sure, Ba’el came back for her annual visits, but for the most part, he was closed off.

He had no reason to hold back when speaking to an unconscious woman, though. Between stories, he’d begun giving voice to some of the fears he’d kept hidden from everyone else - fear over his daughter’s safety, concern over what would happen if this place was ever discovered by any people besides the very few who knew its secret. There was little to no risk of her spilling those secrets, after all. She may not wake up, and if she did, there was only a low probability that she would remember what he said to her.

Speaking to her and watching her slowly regain her strength was a breath of fresh air for the Commander. Ta’lana gave him a much more positive prognosis two days after the crash.

Tokath didn’t even go back to his room for more than a change of clothing after that. He was at her bedside for all but mealtimes. He didn’t know exactly why, but seeing her face every day brought him a sense of peace and happiness. His first impression had been very correct. Beneath the dirt, she was utterly beautiful. He just hoped he’d get to see her lovely eyes open again.

--

The pain that had seemed so immediate and jarring before had been replaced with a dull ache, and the sound of alarm klaxons had been silenced in favor of a gentle, compassionate voice. What had happened? The whole world seemed fuzzy...hazy and unwilling to come to the surface of my mind with any sort of coherence.

When I finally managed to crack my eyelids open, I was met with the gentle flickering of candlelight. Turning my head slightly, I saw a man sitting in a chair beside me reading a book. A few difficult blinks later, I realized that he was Romulan.

“When’s my execution, rekkhai?” The words sounded rough and were out of my mouth before I could think better of them. The man looked up from the book he was reading and when his eyes met mine, I couldn’t help but swallow nervously despite my dry throat.

“‘Execution?’ Why would I wish to execute you, lhhei?” His voice was smooth, low, and oddly familiar. A soft smile crossed his lips as he closed his book and set it aside.

“Romulans don’t tend to like Humans,” I rasped. “I’ve been called a ‘hevam’ more than once.”

His brow furrowed at that.

“I do not dislike you, I have no desire to harm you, and I’m quite certain that you don’t deserve such distasteful treatment,” he murmured, turning to the small table by my bedside. “Can you sit up?”

Blinking slowly, I tested my muscles. I was sore, but I managed to force myself up after a long moment. As a reward, the Romulan sitting by my bed passed me a small glass of water. While I drank it, I couldn’t help but study him.

His hair was a mix of brown and gray, and despite the severity of his brow, his eyes seemed kind and welcoming. How odd for a Romulan. There was stubble on his jaw and upper lip as if he hadn’t shaved in a while. His lips slid easily into a smile as he watched me watching him.

“What happened?”

“Your ship crashed. We found your identity record on the manifest, but...I’m sorry to say there were no other survivors,” the man said, and to my surprise he actually looked genuinely remorseful. “Do you know where you are?”

“Sitting alone in a bedroom with a Romulan man,” I answered with a wry, exhausted smile of my own. He let out a huff of laughter and nodded his head, but a name floated into my brain. “Do you know someone called Tokath?”

“So you did hear me,” he muttered as his eyes widened. A warm, gentle smile stretched his lips. “I am Tokath, lhhei, and I assure you that you have no reason to fear me.”

I believed him. I didn’t know why, but I knew he was telling the truth.

“It will be several days before you’re able to leave your bed, but you won’t be alone,” Tokath said, and I nodded my head quietly. “I can only offer my apologies that we weren’t able to heal you more completely. For reasons that will become quite clear to you, we have very little need for knowledge of Human physiology.”

I was about to respond to him when the door opened, revealing an older Klingon woman. What was a Klingon doing with a Romulan?

“I came to relieve you for your evening meal,” she began, but when she saw that I was awake, she gave me a wide, toothy grin. “Well, you do have some strength in you, don’t you, girl? Didn’t think you’d survive, to be honest.”

At the surprise written all over my face, Tokath introduced me to the woman who’d tended to my wounds. She checked me over, but despite her attempts to relieve Tokath, he insisted that he would stay with me for a while longer. Once Ta’lana had left, the Romulan gave me a smile.

“There is much for you to learn about this place, dear lady.”

Over the next week and a half, Tokath taught me all about the colony they’d built from the ashes of Khitomer and the battle’s aftermath. He and his men had sacrificed their careers and their homes to help their prisoners protect their family honor. He’d brushed off my amazement at the selflessness of his choice with the excuse that he was simply doing his duty.

But what he’d done was far beyond duty. Hell, he’d even gotten married to one of the Klingon women and had a child with her. He’d created a home he could be proud of here on Carraya Four. There was a lingering sort of sadness in his eyes when he spoke about his wife. It was only when he caught me looking at him curiously that he finally told me that she’d died a few years prior to my crash landing. He seemed genuinely grateful when I offered him my condolences. If the look in his eyes told me anything, it was that he’d loved her more deeply than anyone could ever know.

Tokath had tried to lighten the mood by telling me hours upon hours of stories, as well. We both discovered rather quickly that he had a knack for making me laugh, so he kept me in stitches for quite some time with stories from his childhood.

Each day like clockwork, Tokath knocked respectfully at my doorframe, and at my request that he enter, he would show me some trinket or other and help me fight off the boredom of being confined to a bed by filling the room with his melodious voice and intriguing stories. He even managed to pull a few from me in return, even if I wasn’t quite as adept as he was at weaving my memories into tales worthy of a village bard.

Before we knew it, Ta’lana told us both that it would be safe for me to attempt to stand and walk again. I still felt a bit weak, so I wasn’t too keen on the idea, but Tokath was eager to offer to help me.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked as my ever-present Romulan nurse pulled me confidently to my feet.

“Of course! You’ve done well to regain your strength, and Ta’lana agrees with me that it’s time you attempt to walk again,” he said smiling down at me as I tried to steady myself in his grip. He must’ve been able to see how nervous I was, because he dropped his voice to something quiet and intimate. “I know your leg aches from where it was broken, but you needn’t worry, lhhei. I won’t allow you to fall.”

My breath caught in my chest at the sincerity in his voice. He always looked at me with such kindness. It was almost difficult to believe that our people had been adversaries for so long in a cold war.

Bringing myself back to reality and shaking off the hypnotic sweetness of his eyes, I reminded myself that Tokath had kept his word with everything else. Why shouldn’t I trust him with this? I nodded my head in agreement as he took a small step back.

“Take it slowly. You’ve not been on your feet for quite some time,” Tokath murmured as he released my arms so I could stand on my own. I breathed deeply and took a cautious step forward. A second followed, and, though I looked and felt a bit shaky, I chanced a third. Walking beside me, the Commander smiled proudly at my progress. “You’re doing well. Take your time. Your muscles have not been properly exercised in over two weeks.”

At the fifth step, one of my knees gave out, but I never hit the ground. Two large, sturdy arms held me firmly against a familiar, very solid chest. A pair of warm eyes smiled down at me. A giddy little giggle bubbled up from my throat and was met by a chuckle from Tokath.

“Every step is progress,” he murmured as my face heated up under his gaze. “You should be proud of yourself for coming so far.”

“I couldn’t have recovered like this without your help, rekkhai,” I said smiling up at him as I steadied my legs again.

“I’m honored to have been able to assist you, and...I hope that I will be able to continue to make your recovery easier,” he said as he took a slow, careful step back. “Stay right there.”

Walking over to the long, narrow box that he’d brought with him today, Tokath picked it up and carried it over to me.

“This is for you,” he stated as he pulled the lid off to show me what looked like a staff with a pad at the top. “It’s an old-style crutch. My brother used one when he injured himself on a mission on an uninhabited planet. I know it isn’t much, but it should help you regain your mobility. I made this one myself, so if it requires any adjustments...”

I couldn’t help but look up at him in amazement.

“You made this? For me?” When he nodded his head, tears flooded my eyes. He’d done so much for me already. With a small, lurching step, I wrapped my arms around Tokath and buried my head in his chest. “Thank you so much!”

After a moment’s hesitation, he hugged me back and rested his chin atop my head.

“It is time for you to begin living again, lovely girl, and I’ll be there with you every step of the way. I promise.”

~*~*~

Romulan Words:

lhhei = lady; my lady

hevam = Human (derogatory, slur)

rekkhai = sir

~*~

Taglist:

@bigblissandlove1​ @darkmattervibes​ @emilie786​ @horta-in-charge​ @toebeans-mcgee​

[hazel-of-sodor]

What's Lost is Found

Ch.14 Return Again

Other Stories

Other Chapters

It was several days before Screech saw Mali again. It was Wednesday morning, and Screech was waiting for the Morning Pike to be unloaded. Mali was helping Gwyn and Freda wash Screech down.

Technically Screech didn't need it, she was more than capable of disintegrating any dirt or grime that landed on her, but like all engines, she appreciated the attention.

Mali was chatting with Freda as they worked.

"Maxwell is almost repaired, they're waiting on her new driveshaft, once that's installed she'll be as good as new."

Freda was scrubbing Screech's nose with a sponge, as rags had proven to disintegrate too quickly when used on her face. "Did they ever decide where to place her?" She asked, scrubbing a particularly stubborn spot of soot, causing Screech to wrinkle her nose.

Mali shrugged from where she was cleaning a cylinder. "From what I've heard she's gonna be used wherever she is needed most."

"And 590?"

"She's gonna take longer, other than the break, Maxwell was mechanically sound. 590...well it sounds like the little engines were run until they broke. 590 had broken down a few months before Argol fell, and they'd been pulling parts from her to keep the others running."

She paused thoughtfully, "No one seems to know exactly what happened the last day, but it seems from the few who were there that something happened on the little railway. Something they couldn't fix."

Mali clambered up onto the running board.

"Apparently those who were left loaded their belongings on the lorries waiting for slate and left."

Gwyn frowned as he brought Freda a bucket of clean water, "what happened to the engine?"

Mali hesitated, "That's the thing. I asked Miss Morgan and the records said they were all scrapped...including 590."

Screech stilled, her glowing gaze slowly swinging to Mali. 

"You believe they lied."

Mali shrugged helplessly, "the train apparently failed in the middle of the line. Given what we know of the last day..."

"What are the chances they went through the trouble of scrapping it," Freda said grimly.

Gwyn shook his head, "there's no chance they would have dragged the equipment up the line."

"I had hoped I was wrong," Mali chewed her bottom lip nervously, "but there's another engine up there."

Screech shifted impatiently, "it seems then, that you will get the chance to return to Argol sooner than expected Little Thief."

***

That night, the engines and crews of the Uman and Din Railway gathered around the sheds in the dying light.

"It is our belief there is another engine stranded on the old Argol Railway, left abandoned when it failed with the final train." Miss Morgan surveyed her engines and crews from atop a truck, a map of the old Argol railway held aloft by Screech behind her. "Ideally another engine would be used to pull the train, but 590 will take months to be restored, and we all agree that is too long to wait."

She allowed the muttered agreements to die down before continuing.

"Saturday morning Screech will set off towards Argol with a line of flatbeds. Enid will follow with four teams of volunteers and a team of horses. I need volunteers for each team. Team one, which forewoman Owen has volunteered to lead, will scale the old trackbed to locate the train and prepare it for team two's arrival. Once team two has the train, they will continue along the line, searching for any more rolling stock or equipment left behind.

Team Two, led by fireman Dylan will ready the horses and follow Team One to the train.. Once the train is found, team two will use the horses to pull the train to where Screech can load it onto flatbeds.

I will lead Team Three at the old yard. Our task will be to recover any surviving rolling stock or equipment left in the yards, as well as reseal the old buildings to slow their deterioration.

Team four will be led by Mrs.Davies, they will explore the old town to ensure no other vehicles have been left abandoned.

We have two days to prepare. Let's make the most of it."

A/N: And We're Back! Updates will be posted every Tuesday, life permiting.

[musicreveiwsbyezti]

What's up babygirls (literally no one reads my blog) here's my March topster

This month was mostly shit I thought it would be interesting to listen... so lot of metal again. Also for the sake of my sanity I have 2 records that I genuinely don't know what the fuck I should do with.

Unrated: Current 93-I have a special plan for this world (Dark Ambient/Poetry): Arguably the best scary stuff I have ever listened but I never want to hear this again as once was perfectly enough. It gives a really disturbing atmosphere and the poetry part itself was interesting too. I highly recommend checking it out at least once. Slipknot-Iowa(Nu metal): I don't get it. The instrumentation is good but the lyrics are so god damned corny that it hurts. It doesn't help that it sounds like death metal for people who don't want to listen to actual death metal. I probably give it another chance later... not now tho I still can't take The Heretic Anthem seriously.

Alright now the actual tierlist begins:

14th: Combat Wounded Veteran-Electric Youth Crew(Powerviolence): I had a small journey and sat down to listen through the entire CWV discography (it's not that long definitely recommend it to get into powerviolence) and this is arguably the "weakest" of their releases. It doesn't really stand out and can be forgotten easily.

13th: CWV-This Is Not an Erect, All-Red Neon Body (Powerviolence/Grindcore): Idk it just doesn't click as well as IKAGWDCSP.

12th: Death-The Sound of Perseverance(Death/Prog Metal):Jesus Christ this album was a major disappointment for me. As a last Death album I expected it to be a last brutal yet technically extreme blast...but they just had to listen to 30 hour acid freeform jazz or some shit to get inspiration. This album has genuine fire songs, but they just had to fuck up the in the middle with a boring ass bass "solo" or someshit... Also the Painkiller cover is the worst song I heard this year so far, how the fuck can you ruin a perfect song when you are already a talented vocalist is beyond me.

11th: CWV-Duck Down for the Torso(Powerviolence/Grindcore): A short and sweet end for CWV's discography. Having it end on a Folded Space song was a great choice which gives an interesting feeling for the end.

10th: Stabbing-Extirpated Mortal Process(Brutal Death/Slam metal): Now this is a good slam metal album.

9th: Sematary-Bloody Angel(Horrorcore/Chicago drill): After Sems last EP I thought it was over... BUT IT ISN'T! It gives vibes of RB2 with RB3 mixing with some HAW mixed in. He can cook just let him do his thing :pray:

8th: Spycada-Hiking Lung(Psychedelic rock): It's good, great vibe, good tones, overall enjoyable. Looking forward to their next stuff.

7th: Magrudergrind-Self title(Grindcore/Powerviolence): THE grindcore album. Absolutely slaps, the sample use is interesting.

6th: Igorrr-Spirituality and Distortion(Avant Guard Metal/Breakcore) This... is Schrödinger's kitchen. I don't know if the kitchen is burned down or has served a 5 star menu, until I care to write an actual criticism of it. (Also the mixing of metal, break core and classical music is insane and the sheer heaviness this album gives is phenomenal, though it falls of gradually on the second half)

5th:Sweet Trip-Velocity : Design : Comfort(IDM/Glitch Pop) At least 200 people already circle jerk around this album, yes it is good, no I don't explain why I love it because I ain't talking about why breathing air is good.

4th:Have a nice life-Deathconsciousness(Post Punk/Shoegaze): Same as last time, people already told you enough why it's good, just fucking listen through it already. (side note some of the songs on this albums mixed weirdly quite for some reason, and it's kinda wack how the drone parts are the best, but still really good)

3th: Dead in the Dirt-The Blind Hole(Grindcore/Powerviolence) Jesus I listen to a lot of powerviolence this month... Anyways this is probably my favourite pw record yet. Probably the more understandable vocals help to lift it just a little bit above the rest for me.

2th:Mastodon-Leviathan(Sludge metal/Prog metal) Fun fact in the 2000's 2 whale concept prog metal albums came out, both of which are peak. I don't know how they got The Moby Dick nailed so well in metal form but they sure did with heavy riffs and amazing vocal performances.

1th: Electric Wizard-Witchcult Today(Stoner/Doom metal): I was afraid to check out the rest of EW discography after Dopethrone cuz it is too peak... However this album is probably as good as Dopethrone. Something about this album gives more OG metal vibes with less insanity.

[ask-dogday-and-catnap]

A guy has spent five years traveling all around the world making a documentary on Native dances. At the end of this time, he has every single native dance of every indigenous culture in the world on film. He winds up in Australia, in Alice Springs, so he pops into a pub for a well earned beer. He gets talking to one of the local Aborigines and tells him about his project. The Aborigine asks the guy what he thought of the "Butcher Dance." 

The guy's a bit confused and says "Butcher Dance? What's that?" 

"What? You no see Butcher Dance?" 

"No, I've never heard of it." 

"Oh mate. You crazy. How you say you film every native dance if you no see Butcher Dance?" 

"UmmSUM. I got a corroborree on film just the other week. Is that what you mean?" 

"No no, not corroborree. Butcher Dance much more important than corroborree." 

"Oh, well how can I see this Butcher Dance then?" 

"Mate, Butcher Dance right out bush. Many days travel to go see Butcher Dance." 

"Look, I've been everywhere from the forests of the Amazon, to deepest darkest Africa, to the frozen wastes of the Arctic filming these dances. Nothing will prevent me from recording this one last dance." 

"OK, mate. You drive north along highway towards Darwin. After you drive 197 miles, you see dirt track veer off to left. Follow dirt track for 126 miles 'til you see big huge dead gum tree - biggest tree you ever see. Here you gotta leave car, coz much to rough for driving. You strike out due west into setting sun. You walk 3 days 'til you hit creek. You follow this creek to Northwest. After 2 days you find where creek flows out of rocky mountains. Much too difficult to cross mountains here though. You now head south for half day 'til you see pass through mountains. Pass very difficult, very dangerous. Take 2, maybe 3 days to get through rocky pass. When through, head north-west for 4 days 'til reach big huge rock - 20 ft high and shaped like man's head. From rock, walk due west for 2 days and you find village.Here you see Butcher Dance." 

So the guy grabs his camera crew and equipment and heads out. After a couple of hours he finds the dirt track. The track is in a shocking state and he's forced to crawl along at a snails pace and so he doesn't reach the tree until dusk and he's forced to set up camp for the night. He sets out bright and early the following morning. His spirits are high and he's excited about the prospect of capturing on film this mysterious dance which he had never heard mention of before. True to the directions he has been given, he reaches the creek after three days and follows it for another two until they reach the rocky mountains. The merciless sun is starting to take its toll by this time and his spirits are starting to flag, but wearily he trudges on until he finds the pass through the hills - nothing will prevent him from completing his life's dream. The mountains prove to be every bit as treacherous as their guide said and at times they almost despair of getting their bulky equipment through. But after three and a half days of back breaking effort they finally force their way clear and continue their long trek. 

When they reach the huge rock, four days later, their water is running low and their feet are covered with blisters but they steel themselves and head out on the last leg of their journey. Two days later they virtually stagger into the village where the natives feed them and and give them fresh water and they begin to feel like new men. Once he's recovered enough, the guy goes before the village chief and tells him that he has come to film there Butcher Dance. 

"Oh mate. Very bad you come today. Butcher Dance last night. You too late. You miss dance." 

"Well, when do you hold the next dance?" 

"Not 'til next year." 

"Well, I've come all this way. Couldn't you just hold an extra dance for me, tonight?" 

"No, no, no! Butcher Dance very holy. Only hold once a year. If hold more, gods get very angry and destroy village! You want see Butcher Dance you come back next year." The guy is devastated, but he has no other option but to head back to civilization and back home. The following year, he heads back to Australia and, determined not to miss out again, sets out a week earlier than last time. He is quite willing to spend a week in the village before the dance is performed in order to ensure he is present to witness it. However, right from the start things go wrong. Heavy rains that year have turned the dirt track to mud and the car gets bogged every few miles, finally forcing them to abandon their vehicles and slog through the mud on foot almost half the distance to the tree. They reach the creek and the mountains without any further hitch, but halfway through the ascent of the mountain they are struck by a fierce storm which rages for several days, during which they are forced to cling forlornly to the mountainside until it subsides. It would be suicide to attempt to scale the treacherous paths in the face of such savage elements. 

Then, before they have traveled a mile out from the mountains, one of the crew sprains his ankle badly which slows down the rest of their journey to the rock and then the village enormously. Eventually, having lost all sense of how long they have been travelling, they stagger into the village at about 12:00 noon. 

"The Butcher Dance!" gasps the guy. "Please don't tell me I'm too late!" 

The chief recognizes him and says "No, white fella. Butcher Dance performed tonight. You come just in time." 

Relieved beyond measure, the crew spend the rest of the afternoon setting up their equipment - preparing to capture the night's ritual on celluloid as dusk falls, the natives start to cover there bodies in white paint and adorn themselves in all manner of bird's feathers and animal skins. Once darkness has settled fully over the land, the natives form a circle around a huge roaring fire. 

A deathly hush descends over performers and spectators alike as a wizened old figure with elaborate swirling designs covering his entire body enters the circle and begins to chant. Some sort of witch doctor or medicine man, figures the guy and he whispers to the chief "What's he doing?" 

"Hush" whispers the chief. "You first white man ever to see most sacred of our rituals. Must remain silent. Holy man, he asks that the spirits of the dreamworld watch as we demonstrate our devotion to them through our dance and, if they like our dancing, will they be so gracious as to watch over us and protect us for another year." 

The chanting of the Holy man reaches a stunning crescendo before he removes himself from the circle. From somewhere the rhythmic pounding of drums booms out across the land and the natives begin to sway to the stirring rhythm. 

The guy is becoming caught up in the fervour of the moment himself. This is it. He now realizes beyond all doubt that his wait has not been in vain. He is about to witness the ultimate performance of rhythm and movement ever conceived by mankind.

The chief strides to his position in the circle and, in a big booming voice, starts to sing: "You butch yer right arm in. You butch yer right arm out. You butch yer right arm in and you shake it all about"

*Confused Smiling Critter noise as Bubba Bubbaphant laughs*