#fade o meter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

drvirgus · 6 months ago

Text

Protecting (my heart)

Idol! Minji X bodyguard! Reader

Description: getting a new job as NewJeans bodyguard isn't really something Y/n thought would happen to her. What exactly happens when she suddenly felt attracted to one of the NewJeans members? Can Y/n stay professional or are her feelings for Minji too much to handle?

Warnings: stalking; harassment; kys jokes; suggestive language; death threats; mention of abuse; mention of murder; Smut; g!p reader

Chapter: First Time (Fully written)

Masterlist

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

Sighing, I leaned against the ropes of the boxing ring. My body was bent forward as I closed my eyes for a few seconds. Minji was in the locker room changing, while I had already picked her up, dressed and ready. My eyes remained closed as I took several deep breaths.

The stalker looked familiar. Very familiar. But from where?

My jaw tensed as I racked my brain over the whole situation. Naturally, I was worried that the stalker, having already made contact with Minji once, might repeat it. The fear that the stalker might snap and harm Minji had kept me up all night.

“What are you thinking about?”

My eyes opened, and I immediately saw the taller woman a few meters below me, as she hadn’t climbed into the ring yet. A small smile appeared on my face as I shook my head slightly. “Nothing special. Come on up,” I said, extending my hand to her, which she took without hesitation.

I pulled my ex-girlfriend up and helped her through the ropes until she was fully in the ring. Minji sighed softly, smiling at me. My eyes, however, fell on her outfit, and a lump formed in my throat that wouldn’t go away despite repeated swallowing.

She was wearing a tight black tank top and white wide-leg sporty pants. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail, drawing my eyes to her neck.

I swallowed again, feeling my heartbeat quicken. I quickly turned my head to the side, trying to banish every single thought from my mind. A clearing of the throat interrupted my flow of thoughts, and my jaw tensed again as I automatically became more serious.

“How strong are you?” I asked, causing Minji to look at me in confusion. “Do you mean how much I can lift? Like… around-” she began, but I cut her off immediately. A smile on my face as I stepped closer to her. I positioned her in the middle of the ring and stood facing her.

“I’ll show you some moves from Judo, Krav Maga, and Jiu-Jitsu. You can decide which ones you like, and we’ll refine your technique,” I said, and Minji nodded. Her eyes were fixed on me. I got into position. “Attack me. The first move is called O-goshi,” I said with a small grin, waiting for Minji to make her move.

Minji’s eyes widened as she suddenly landed on her back on the ground. Confused, she sat up and looked at me. Smiling, I offered her my hand, which she took without hesitation. I pulled my ex-girlfriend to her feet and couldn’t help but laugh at her bewildered expression.

“You grab the opponent by the collar and the sleeve, turn your back to them, pull them close to your hip, and throw them over your hip onto the ground,” I explained with a small smile, showing her the key points on her body and the opponent's body that she needed to grab.

“Come on. Give it a try. Don’t be afraid to hurt me... I probably deserve it,” I murmured quietly, causing Minji to look at me with a furrowed brow. Her jaw tightened as she began to breathe incredulously. She immediately grabbed me at the key points and tried to throw me to the ground, but it didn’t go as smoothly as she hoped.

Minji’s eyes narrowed as she hissed loudly, trying repeatedly. My smile faded, and I gently removed my arm from her grip. “You… seem tense,” I said softly, noticing the tears forming in her eyes, but she quickly looked away to avoid my gaze.

“Hey,” I whispered as I placed my hand on her upper arm. “I’m sorry.”

Minji turned her head back to me, her eyes shimmering with tears she was determined to hold back. Her lips pressed together as she took another deep breath. “Why… did you really break up with me?” she asked softly. My eyes widened, and I withdrew my hand from her arm, but she immediately grabbed my wrist.

“Don’t avoid me, Y/n. I’m not stupid,” she said, looking at me with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. My mouth opened slightly as I first looked at her hand, still gripping my wrist, and then into her eyes. “You don’t… have to be afraid anymore,” I began quietly, causing her eyebrows to twitch and lift. “I’m close…”

Minji’s eyes narrowed, and her grip on my wrist tightened. “Close?” she asked, looking at me questioningly. A sigh escaped my throat. “I’m close to catching the stalker,” I confessed, newfound confidence in my voice. I lifted my head to look her straight in the face.

I swallowed as Minji released my wrist. “We should continue,” I said, stepping back a few steps from the taller woman. My jaw tensed slightly. “You need to learn to defend yourself,” I added more seriously, and Minji sighed before nodding in understanding.

Minji nodded, determination replacing the earlier sadness in her eyes. She adjusted her stance, signaling her readiness to continue. I took a deep breath, refocusing on the task at hand.

"Alright," I said, my voice steady. "Let's try another move. This one's called 'Ippon Seoi Nage.' It's another judo throw. Watch closely."

I demonstrated the move slowly, explaining each step. "Grab your opponent's collar and sleeve, turn your back to them, drop your hips, and throw them over your shoulder." I executed the move fluidly, and Minji watched intently.

"Okay, your turn," I said, stepping back and getting into position. Minji approached, hesitating for a moment before grabbing my collar and sleeve. She followed my instructions, her movements a bit tentative but precise.

Suddenly, I felt myself being lifted off the ground and thrown over Minji's shoulder. I landed on the mat with a thud, a mixture of surprise and pride flooding through me. Minji looked down at me, her eyes wide with shock and a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"You did it," I said, getting back to my feet. "That was perfect."

Minji's smile grew, the earlier tension in her shoulders easing. "Thanks, Y/n. I wasn't sure I could do it."

I nodded, a smile tugging at my own lips. "You did great. Let's keep going. The more you practice, the more confident you'll become."

We continued training, going through various moves and techniques. Minji's determination was evident, and she picked up each new skill quickly. As we worked, the atmosphere between us grew lighter, the earlier tension slowly dissipating.

After a while, we took a break. Minji leaned against the ropes, breathing heavily but smiling. "This is actually kind of fun," she admitted.

I chuckled, leaning next to her. "Yeah, it can be. And it's important. You need to be able to protect yourself."

Minji nodded, her expression growing serious again. "I know. Thank you for helping me, Y/n."

I looked at her, our eyes meeting. "Of course, Minji. I'll always be here for you."

For a moment, we just stood there, the unspoken words hanging in the air. The bond between us was still strong, despite everything that had happened. And as long as we were together, we could face anything.

"Ready to go again?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Minji grinned, pushing herself off the ropes. "Yeah, let's do it."

We resumed our training, and with each move, each throw, I could see Minji growing more confident and strong. It wasn't just about learning to defend herself—it was about reclaiming her sense of security and power.

Breathing heavily, I threw the taller person onto the mat once more, but suddenly she pulled me down with her. My eyes widened as I felt her legs automatically wrap around my waist and her hands grasp my collar. I stared down at my ex-girlfriend, Minji, whose wide eyes locked onto mine.

The time we spent together—every single second, every emotion, argument, and even the moments of silence—flashed through my mind. My left hand pressed against the mat to create some distance between our bodies, while my right hand rested on her leg.

Minji was also drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. Her eyes were larger than usual as she simply gazed into mine. Suddenly, she lifted her head from the mat and placed her lips on mine. My breath caught, and my eyes widened even more as I felt her soft lips press firmly against mine.

My body visibly relaxed, and I immediately kissed her back. My eyes closed as I poured every single feeling I had into this one kiss—every bit of longing, love, worry, and fear of losing her. Naturally, I also felt a deep sense of regret.

I had hurt the person I loved...

"Minji," I murmured as I broke the kiss, my eyes slightly narrowed as I looked at the beautiful woman beneath me. "We shouldn't—"

"Shut up."

With that interruption, her lips were back on mine. Her hands slid under my top and pulled it off. Shortly after, she grabbed the nape of my neck and pulled me closer, our lips locking once again in a kiss that was now wilder, more desperate, and filled with a burning desire.

My eyes opened during the kiss as I felt Minji trying to pull down my sweatpants. Her hands tugged at the fabric, hoping it would come off on its own. A smile crept across my face as I slowly pulled away from her lips, glancing down at myself.

The bulge in my pants, thanks to the heated kiss, was clearly visible. I licked my lips before looking into her eyes. "Are you... sure?" I asked, my right hand grasping her wrist to stop her from tugging further.

"Yes. I'm sure," she replied, her voice filled with certainty.

My heart pounded in my chest as Minji's confident words resonated in my ears. The gravity of the moment settled over us, and I knew I needed to make this experience perfect for her. This was Minji's first time, and I wanted to ensure it was something she would cherish forever.

"Okay," I whispered, my voice gentle as I looked into her eyes. "We'll take it slow."

Minji nodded, her gaze unwavering. I leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss, conveying my love and reassurance through the connection. My hands gently roamed her body, exploring her curves with a soft touch, making sure she felt every bit of my adoration.

Slowly, I broke the kiss and trailed my lips down her neck, placing delicate kisses along her skin. Minji's breath hitched, and I could feel her body responding to my touch. I moved my hand down, brushing my fingers lightly over her chest, eliciting a soft moan from her.

"You're so beautiful, Minji," I murmured against her skin, continuing my journey downwards. I took my time, wanting to build up the anticipation and make every moment count. My hands caressed her hips, slipping beneath the waistband of her pants and gently easing them off.

Minji's eyes fluttered closed, and she let out a soft sigh as I helped her out of her remaining clothes. She lay there, exposed and vulnerable, but there was no hesitation in her gaze—only trust and desire.

"So beautiful," I breathed, not moving a single muscle as I stared at the stunning body of my ex-girlfriend. My eyes captured every curve, every imperfection, every muscle. My fingers began to trace her stomach, causing the woman beneath me to shiver.

"So damn pretty," I continued to whisper. My lips parted as I stroked the muscles on her abdomen. I bit my lip automatically to quell the urge to just plunge into her. Taking a deep breath, I bent over her once more to connect our lips.

This time, my lips traveled to her neck. I gently bit her there, while my hands roamed over every bump and curve of the beautiful woman. "Minji," I whispered softly as I moved further down. My eyes looked up to catch every little reaction on her face.

Her eyes were glassy, her lips parted and caught between her teeth. A hum escaped my lips as I took in the already hardened nipple of her left breast. Once more, I licked my lips before gently brushing my tongue over the stiff bud.

Minji's body jerked and a gasp escaped her lips, but she quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. Her face flushed deeply as she looked aside in embarrassment. "What's wrong?" I asked, raising my head to look directly into the idol's face beneath me.

Minji turned her head back to me. "I... I make weird noises," she confessed, looking at me helplessly. A smile spread across my face as I gently moved her hand away from her mouth. "Good. I want to hear every single sound," I whispered softly. "Don't hold back. Just enjoy it."

After a rather hesitant nod from her, I enveloped the hard nipple with my lips, pressing my tongue against it before gently starting to suck. My eyes remained fixed on her, watching for every single reaction or any sign of discomfort.

My hand grasped her other breast, massaging it. A smile spread across my lips as I felt Minji starting to move beneath me. Her body quivered and sounds came much more frequently from her beautiful mouth. My teeth gently nipped at the skin of her left breast before I gave a firm suck.

No one would see a hickey here...

My kisses traveled under her breast and along her stomach as I kissed, sucked, or even licked every little spot. My hand on her breast slid down her side before resting on her thigh. I chuckled softly as I looked up once more. Minji watched me with wide eyes as I showered her stomach with love. "Are you ready?" I asked once more, and received only a quick, eager nod from her.

"Words, baby. I need words."

"Y-Yes. I'm ready."

A smile spread across my face as I slid down further. I ensured her left leg was bent and began by caressing her inner thigh. My breath came in ragged gasps, finding it increasingly difficult to focus on anything. Minji's pleasure, however, was paramount...

With one last look into her eyes, I buried my head between her legs. My tongue parted her folds, savoring her intoxicating taste. My eyes closed as a moan escaped my lips. My lips quickly found her clit, and I sucked on it almost immediately.

My fingers dug into the bent legs of the beautiful woman. Minji's moans grew louder, and she writhed. "Y/n. Fuck, Y/n," my ex-girlfriend gasped out. Her eyes were half-open as she looked at me, her lips parted as she struggled to breathe normally, failing to do so as she would have liked.

A grin formed on my face as I ran my tongue through her folds once more. I teased her entrance and slipped the moist muscle inside her before pulling it out again and focusing entirely on her clit.

Minji's breath quickened, and her hips lifted off the mat. Her hips instinctively rolled into my face, causing me to suck even harder. A moaning scream escaped her throat as her eyes widened, and she arched her back off the mat.

Somehow, Minji managed to sit up, grabbing my head with her hands and pulling me closer. My right hand also ventured into her warm and wet core. My fingers collected every drop of her wetness before I traced one finger around her entrance, gently pushing the tip inside before withdrawing it again.

"Y-Yes," Minji moaned loudly, sending shivers down my spine. I had always loved Minji's voice, but now? So full of lust and desire? That raw edge? If I wasn't careful, I might reach orgasm just from the sound of her voice alone.

Minji's hips began to tremble as I inserted my finger into her, moving it slowly and gently in and out. My lips focused entirely on her clit. I could feel Minji, who had her hands in my hair, starting to pull at it. Her body leaned forward, and I whispered, "Relax," but Minji only responded with a moan.

Amused, I let out a breath and slipped a second finger inside her. My fingers moved slowly in a scissoring motion to spread and prepare her entrance. Minji threw her head back, "Shit. I'm coming," the younger woman moaned as her hands dug deeper into my hair. She arched her back, lifting her hips off the mat.

I withdrew my fingers from her and opened my mouth wider, determined to lap up every drop. My tongue danced over her clit, while my fingers spread her open, preparing her for what was to come. Her taste was intoxicating, and I wanted to make sure her first time was perfect.

Minji's moans grew louder, filling the room. Her body quivered as she reached her peak, her hips bucking against my face. I held her steady, not missing a beat, ensuring she rode out her orgasm fully.

When her body finally relaxed, I looked up at her, a smile on my face. "So beautiful," I murmured, moving back up to kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on my lips. Minji's breath was still heavy, her body trembling slightly from the aftershocks of her climax.

I kissed her softly, my fingers trailing over her sensitive skin. "Are you ready for more?" I asked, my voice low and gentle, wanting to ensure she was completely comfortable.

Minji nodded, her eyes filled with trust and desire. "Yes, Y/n," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

I positioned myself carefully, my length brushing against her entrance. "This might hurt a little at first," I said, wanting to prepare her. Minji nodded again, biting her lip as she looked into my eyes.

Slowly, I began to push inside her, feeling her warmth envelop me. I moved inch by inch, giving her time to adjust to my size. Minji gasped, her fingers digging into my shoulders as I filled her completely.

"You're doing great," I whispered, kissing her neck softly. I started to move, slow and steady, allowing her to get used to the sensation. Minji's moans became louder, her body responding to mine as we found a rhythm together.

Each thrust was deliberate, aiming to bring her as much pleasure as possible. My hands caressed her body, my lips finding hers in a passionate kiss. The connection between us was intense, and I wanted to make sure Minji felt loved and cherished.

As our pace quickened, I could feel her walls tightening around me, signaling that she was close again. "Let go for me, Minji," I murmured against her lips, my thumb circling her clit to bring her over the edge once more. With a final cry, Minji reached her climax, her body convulsing around me.

My mouth opened as my body began to tremble. My breathing accelerated rapidly as I felt myself on the verge of orgasm. "Shit," I panted, suddenly remembering that we weren't using a condom. My eyes widened as Minji held me by the neck.

"Fuck," I moaned again, ensuring that Minji would finally release me. With a swift movement, I pulled out of her and started stroking my full length before coming on her beautiful stomach. I watched as the white, creamy semen landed on her perfect belly, exhaling in relief.

Relieved that I had managed to hold back just long enough.

My eyes immediately turned to the stunning woman beneath me. "Everything... okay?" I asked, slightly concerned, my brow furrowing automatically. Minji gasped for air, a smile forming on her lips. "More—more than good," she replied, still breathing heavily.

A smile spread across my face. "Good," I whispered, connecting my lips with those of my ex-girlfriend once more.

The kiss was tender and lingering, filled with the emotions and passion of the moment. As our lips moved together, I could feel the remnants of tension easing from both of us, leaving only a sense of deep connection and satisfaction.

Gently, I pulled back and looked into Minji's eyes, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You were amazing," I murmured, my thumb caressing her cheek. Minji's smile widened, her eyes softening with affection.

"You too," she whispered back, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest.

We stayed like that for a while, basking in the afterglow and the intimacy we had just shared. Eventually, I got up to fetch a warm towel, returning to clean her up carefully. Every touch was gentle, filled with care and tenderness.

Once she was clean, I lay down beside her, pulling her into my arms. Minji snuggled against me, her head resting on my chest. The room was quiet, save for the sound of our breathing and the steady rhythm of our hearts.

"I've missed you," Minji admitted softly, her fingers playing with mine. "I've missed us."

I kissed the top of her head, holding her closer. "I've missed you too, Minji. More than you know."

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

Taglist: @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa@acegaydar@alexxeey @sixflame438 @pandamiswifey

#newjeans hanni #haerin #newjeans hyein #danielle #newjeans #itzy yeji #hanni pham #itzy x reader #minji x reader #newjeans minji #newjeans smau

107 notes · View notes

env0 · 1 month ago

Text

I smell it in the air.

Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it.

It began with the forging of the Great Boops. Three were given to the Fandom-Blogs, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings. Seven to the Hipsters, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. And nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of Multi-Blog-Users, who above all else desire power. For within these boops was bound the strength and the will to govern each race. But they were all of them deceived, for another ring was made. Deep in the land of Tumblr, in the Fires of Tumblr Labs the Dark Lord Staff forged a master boop, and into this boophe poured his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life.

One Evil Boop to rule them all.

One by one, the free lands of Tumblr fell to the power of the Boop, but there were some who resisted. A last alliance of Hipsters and Fandom Blogs marched against the armies of Staff, and on the very slopes of Mount Tumblr Labs, they fought for the freedom of Tumbl. Victory was near, but the power of the Boop could not be undone. It was in this moment, when all hope had faded, that Boop-O-Meter, son of the David Karp, took up his father’s Boop.

Staff, enemy of the free peoples of Tumblr was defeated. The Boop passed to Boop-O-Meter who had this one chance to destroy evil forever, but the hearts of men are easily corrupted. And the Boop of power has a will of its own. It betrayed Boop-O-Meter, to his death.

And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. And for two and a half thousand years, the Boop passed out of all knowledge. Until, when chance came, it ensnared another bearer.

It came to the OP who took it deep into the tunnels of the Tumblr And there it consumed him. The Boop gave OP unnatural long life. For five hundred years it poisoned his mind, and in the gloom of OP’s cave, it waited. Darkness crept back into the forests of the world. Rumor grew of a shadow in the East, whispers of a nameless fear, and the Boop of Power perceived its time had come. It abandoned OP, but then something happened that the Boop did not intend. It was picked up by the most unlikely creature imaginable: a Blogger, of Tumblr

For the time will soon come when Blogger's will shape the fortunes of all.

#lotr #boop #halloween boop #boop o meter #boop-o-meter #lord of the rings #this too so long to edit #could you imagine as an audio or a fucking image set #too much work #jfc

45 notes · View notes

wildglitch · 8 months ago

Text

What if Zombies!Spidey x DCU LETS GOOOOOOOOO-

O K-

So, This is the (Probably not the last, don't worry) post with ideas for my What If Zombies!Peter In the DCU AU. This is the post that (Finally) Focuses on the DC side of things. This post Is also going to be mainly focused on Peter and what he's up to cause he's the focus of this AU, but I’m probably gonna make another post with info on the other heroes, so If your interested in that, don't worry cause I am thinking about them (Bucky & Loki = Brainwashed bros)

Its also part 1 of Idk since this post kinda got away from me with its length (oops)

Anyways, without further adieu, let's start :D

-So! starting this off with something fun and not that serious that I just found out. this should have probably gone in the first post but I didn't know this until now so here, a +1 info on “facts about the zombie apocalypse” tm.

Ok, so at this point you know I like to play around with the timeline right? Ok so, I’m researching the dates and events things take place in right? Turns out, the snap happened in either May or June, and one source even said that it happened on May 31. Now, with this in mind and the fact that I said the apocalypse lasted between 7-8 months, what happens if you subtract 8 months from May? You get October. And if you add the date to it? Guys…I accidentally made it that the zombie apocalypse starts on Halloween! That's just insane!

The official timeline now is 7 months of the zombie apocalypse, no more no less, sorry, I don't make the rules :^ (omg I made Antman & the Wasp a halloween movie lmao. It fits)

-Alright so, Peter, Head Scott/w the cloke and T’challa are on a plane on their way to Wakanda when all of a sudden, well, how many of you seen the Young Justice Episode s1e19 Misplaced? (Btw have I talked about how much I love Billy batson? I will one of these days ok, and that's a threat) well anyways

Airplane squad: *”peacefully” traumatized on a plane to Wakanda

Airplane squad: *the people on the plane fucking fazes out of reality leaving him alone to fly the plane*

Peter: *Panik*

Peter: *feels a pull wanting to take him but fighting it off as he tries to fly a fucking plane*

Peter: *also fades out of reality but much later the other and is now falling to certain doom in the middle of the ocean*

Peter: “Oh What the F-”

Ya that-

I mixed aspects of the snap and scene from misplaced as their way of splitting up. And, they did split up. A high speed plane plus the time it took them to disappear firmly separates Peter from the rest of the heros. And thus the adventure commences

-unlike Billy who can fly, Peter falls head first at top speeds and a thousand meters high into the ocean. This can happen a few different ways

1) Peter is stranded, and is found by Young Justice or any superhero team that was passing through the ocean and thinks “Oh shoot, that's a child”. And this is how he ends up with the league. This one is kinda fast and there wouldn't be any identity reveal since at this point this Peter has no concept of such a thing. But a good way to work around this is memory loss. Not really my cup of tea but I can very much see this happening considering how hard he hit his head

2) …So Peter fucking dies-

Listen! I somehow started off with my 2 most opposite extremes of ideas, but hear me out. The fall? It kills him. But lets say that some cult or the league of assassins or some shit find his body, realize he’s a “meta” and decide “Yeah, this is a good revival candidate” And they revive the poor sucker. He is held captive HYDRA style and they try to turn him into a weapon. Obviously, he escapes, set free onto the world with a few months of trauma and a stolen one way ticket anywhere. And that anywhere just so happens to be Gotham. I’ll let your mind take it from there

3) This is the last version of events I’m gonna mention and I think this one is the one I'm sticking with, purely for the comedic potential I can see coming out of this. So Peter fought back the spell right? Well unlike the snap where he was fighting a force of nature were he would not have won, Peter was fighting Loki off, which,

Peter: Fighting off that staticy feeling that's trying to take him

Loki: *Genuinely struggling to get this non magic kid to corporate with him*

Loki: Damnit CHILD! I'm trying to save your worthless life!

Peter: *Legit almost wins and gets left by himself in the zombieland*

Loki: …What did they feed you?

Yeah, so since Loki had to focus on getting that idiot spider child to cooperate, he loses track of everyone else, and all of a sudden, the fuzzy mental image he had of everyone dissipates, and Peters becomes the full focus. This lets him save the kid from the crash, but he now doesn't know where all of the others are, including his brother, and now he can't really get to any of them.

-Peter is saved with a spell that's basically the bubble from steven universe but Loki style. He can breathe just fine, but he can't get out or call for hell. He spends many Hours like this.

-Ok so, Loki is a god. We have established this, I keep mentioning it (sorry) he himself brings this up multiple times. What is something gods tend to have sometimes? Avatars, people who act out their will on Earth. You see where I'm going with this? Since Peter is the only mortal from his world he has access to, and because he is stuck on the watchtower, he decides to make a deal with Peter to make him his Avatar and have him look for the others (Thor). Peter, after having most of the situation explained to him, accepts his offer, with a few conditions here and there that prevent Loki from taking full advantage of him. But at the end of the day, they are both desperate and accept the others' offers and conditions with little fuss.

-Deals and conditions for the avatar contract between Peter and Loki

Loki’s Mission: Find the other mortals and spread chaos as his agent Loki’s Offer: Slight magical aid, “ability boost”, Protection from other magical entities, Godly guide and knowledge and Loki wont force Peter into doing anything too grotesque Loki’s conditions for Peter: He will be able to access anything Peter is seeing and be able to take control of any situation if he sees it fit, he must go on the missions he sends him on, And if the situation ever truly demands it, he will listen to everything Loki tells him to do Peter’s Mission: Finding his friends and finding a cure to his world in this new one as Loki’s Agent. He must also make good impressions on other Magical being in this world as to not shame the god he’s representing Peter Offer: His loyalty and tentative trust, he won't argue too much and will do his absolut best to find Thor. he will Listen to Loki and do what he says Peter’s Conditions for Loki: Will become his Avatar as long as he gets to keep being a hero and doesn't have to hurt or kill people. He will only do a mission once a month, and he will not advertise the Avatar bit. Peter gets free will, He can refuse to do something as long as he isn't demanded of it.

With this, a hand shake, and some blood, The deal is made in the bubble in the middle of the ocean.

-Peter is now Loki’s Avatar, Moonknight style, Yay! They don't really like each other that much due to circumstance but it's fineeeeeee. I did this because 1) I thought of a scenario that didn't really make sense unless Peter was somehow talking to him 2) It’s a little nod to the fact most of the fics have the snapped souls with Peter on his adventure. I thought that this way he can still have his voice in his head , it's not that crowded because it's only one voice, and it's not that Intrusive because Loki isn't going to be with Peter 24/7 only when he needs him, he's using some of his powers, or when he can sense distress or danger coming from Peter- Other than that he's stuck at the watchtower trying to plan his next moves. And 3) Cause the thought came to me and i thought it was fucking Holirouse.

-With Some trickery, Peter sneaks onto a boat and spends his time hidden under the deck pretending and hides like a corner spider the whole trip

-Peter in his, Hasn't been around actual living breathing humans for such a long time, self, breaks down and cries at the docks. Coincidentally, The bats are doing a drug bust there and a wearhouse not 10 feet away from him blows up.

-Peter in his typical fashion, Puts on his mask and runs into the building looking for survivors.

-The bats, not knowing what happened, see’s this costume stranger helping the thugs get away and immediately clocks him as a villain. Opps

-They fight, misunderstandings happen and now, The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man Is on the front page as gothams hottest new Rogue. Well shit

-Peter being the smart guy he is, squats at an unoccupied apartment and claims it as his. Then Loki shows up after weeks of radio silence, takes one look at the place and says, hell nah, and fixes the place up with magic making the place more than livable. With some (probably magical) persuasion, the guy renting out the place actually puts him on the lease with 50 bucks of monthly rent. Does Peter feel guilty…well? Gotta roll with the punches man. Plus, this place looks nice, ignoring his 20 something neighbor that has enough blood on him to turn his white hair dye red that had sent his spider sense. This is fine.

-With some help from the voice in his head and walking through dark alleys at night, he finds a guy that works for immigration and was selling sketchy (But legit) identities. Not really trusting the guy but in desperate need and ID for the lease he was about to sign, He coughs up all the savings he had, took a Photo, and Ben P. Riley was born. He said he didn't trust the guy.

-Peter has decided to go by an alias for a few reasons, like not knowing if there was already another Peter Parker in this reality and not really wanting to risk it or the plain fact that he didn't really trust anyone in this new reality with it (Loki and his magical guidance, he has firmly decided to never give out his name so freely ever again). His name is one of the last things from his past life that he can call his own, And if his “Villainous” identity was revealed as Peter Parker, he didn't know if he could handle it. The most simple reason was that he just missed his family and wanted something in this new life he was making for himself to remind himself of them. Ofcourse, he still added that P in there middle so as to not completely erase himself.

-Peter spends a full month just trying to get used to living in a society again, This causes some problems and misunderstandings.

-After many series of misunderstandings and mishaps, everyone thinking he's evil, Peter decides, YK what's, If I can't beat them, join them. Peter starts going out as the “Villain Spider-Man” doing sketchy shit (normal teenage shit) and causing a commotion in Gotham. Peter counts this as his act of mischief and Loki agrees when he sees the kid sell his own photos to the newspaper. Peter isn't actually doing anything evil, it's just his presence that brings fear. The fact that the bats have caught him breaking into multiple high security facilities doesn't really help his case

-Peter spends his months looking through files and files of info searching for the others, but has just about no luck on anything.

-Peter, forced by a mission, goes undercover in Gotham prep to follow one of Loki’s leads. He doesn't really know what he's doing here, but this Tim guy is pretty nice

-Cause of the amazing pictures he keeps selling to the paper, the company hires him full time as their photographer for special events and even lets him write a few articles when they see the notes he puts next to his pictures that provide contexts and stuff like that. This job opens Peter to search to a whole new horizon.

-With Peter's new job, hes sent to many different cities which introduces him to many different people

-He meets Jimmy Olson on a trip to Metropolis and hits it off pretty well with the older man. Jimmy introduces him to his friends and coworkers Lois and Clark, both of whom are just a delegate. Though that Clark guy as not stopped setting of his spider sense since he met him

-The next place he went to was a city called Fawcett, where he was sent to help with a story with one of the local reporters who was apparently his age.

Boss guy: Ben, meet Billy. You two will be working together on the report for this years summer festival

Peter: *Looks at Billy*

Billy: *Looks at ‘Ben’*

*Insert that one Spider-Man meme*

The two sniff each other out as godly “employees” and exchange numbers. And thus, a friendship was born as Billy decided to keep an eye out for any other reality travelers, and Peter is put as one of his emergency contacts to help him get out of shit since he was “technically 20 according to his ID”

-Peter is also sent to Gothams sister city Bludhaven. Peter,ends up meeting a weird police officer that keeps expecting him to take pictures of the guy. But he's nice enough and bought him a hotdog and a cinnamon roll(even though he now thinks he's allergic to them), so the weird outweighs the good.

-On his trip to Bludhaven, Peter decides to go out as spider-man. Not to cause trouble, but to go sightseeing and swinging without the interference of a bat. He ends up sitting upside down on an old building (like that one Atsv scene) working on some leads he has when all of a sudden, Nightwing appeared right behind him dangling off the side of the building like a mad man giving him a heart attack. Nightwing is about to confront the spider after his sneak attack was caught, but before he does, Peter holds out the cinnamon roll towards the vigilante as a peace offering rushing out the words “Please don't hit me!” and Nightwing just stares. He stares long and hard looking between the treat and the Spider mask. Peter was about to run from them when Nightwing sort of just…sits. Or sits at the best of his abilities with no gravity defying powers. He actually does a pretty good job at it. Nightwing takes to offering with a nod and the 2 just sort of sit there in silence. It's awkward and weird, and quiet but for some reason he doesn't feel as uncomfortable as he thinks he should. Even less when he feels the ringing of his spider senses slowly die down as the minutes pass until it's just a constant hum at the back of his head

-They don't talk after that but from here is a turning point as to how the Bat clan view the spider.

More? Nay I say! (There will be a part 2 to this specific post, but it has gotten too long and I need to go to bed. So hopefully this will do for now :^) Plus this feels like agood stoping point since I feel like that ending would mark the ending to an arc

Please let me know what you think of this AU. I love seeing other people's ideas and thoughts. It fuels me lo

And make sure to keep an eye out for Part 2 of this post.

Later

66 notes · View notes

liliewrites · 1 year ago

Text

"PRETTY LITTLE PLAYTHING"

a/n : hi, this is a smut. hshehshss this has been in my drafts and has been on my mind lately, that's all. anyw enjoy! i was supposed to follow a different plot, but i just kinda went with this because well-- go with the flow ig.

- warning/s : NSFW (mdni), a little degradation. strap-on. mistress kink. not proofread. - pairing/s : yae miko x fem!reader. (men dni)

in which : you're the lady guuji's favorite little maiden.

oh, you sweet innocent little thing.

many would kill just to be in your place,. what a dream it'd to be the lady guuji's focus of interest but little did they know, you weren't just miko's favorite shrine maiden. to her, you were also her favorite plaything.

everyone glared at you with envy as the lady guuji kept you close at all times, it even seemed like you were being pampered and given special treatment-- and you were. you really were. you were exempted from daily routines, chores and services. you slept within her chambers. you were dressed in the most beautiful robes made by the most finest materials found all over teyvat.

all this, just to satisfy the lady guuji's needs and boredome when there was nothing to do and that was all what you were now. her plaything, her pretty little shrine maiden on display.

in public, you were not to stray away from her more than a meter. you were to appear like the ideal shrine maiden. clean, pure and pristine. you would look perfect and obedient. all dolled up and beautiful for her to flaunt like you were the most prized possession she had owned.

in private however, it was the complete opposite. you were a mess, all for your lady. you were dirty and sinful sounds escaped your mouth as she gripped onto your neck and pounded into you. you were her plaything after all, you had to do everything the guuji asked you although you were quite disobedient.

-- and the lady guuji liked it, oh she loved it how bratty and sarcastic you were, saying things like "make me" or "why would i?"

and she definitely loved it when you were all broken and breathless beneath her after defying her, looking so helpess as you begged for sweet release. it made her feel powerful. it boosted her ego to see you go from "make me" to "please, let me" all because of her doing.

"m-mistress, i'll be a good girl, p-please let me cum please please" you whined.

it was music to her ears. it pushed her even further to go harder in you, completely destroying your insides. it made you even more desperate to cum, tears started to stream down your face as you couldn't even form proper words. all you could do was whine and mewl, wanting to let out the built up tension in your lower regions. "you wanna cum, hm? wanna come for your mistress?" she mocked you, stroking your cheek as she stared at your desperate expression. you could only nod, so she slapped you and looked at you with a stern gaze.

"answer me with words, slut"

after saying that, she slowed down. the friction lessened, the feeling of that sweet release slowly fading away. "y-yes mistress, i wanna cum! 'mm a good girl, please!" you moaned out, desperate to feel that heavenly release. miko chuckled at you, leaning closer to you and kissing your forehead.

"mm, such a good girl, that's it baby, use your words. go ahead, cum for me"

she grinned at you, her fangs showing. it scared you, but you could care less. all you wanted was to cum already, you needed it.

"you're so fucking hot when you beg, little one"

she growled, thrusting in you faster. it made you scream and miko loved every noise that came out your mouth, your dirty little sinful mouth. so much for being a shrine maiden, she thought.

"m-mistress-- mm cum--!!"

you couldn't even finish your words as it was soon replaced with a shriek of pain as she sunk her teeth into your shoulder. the pain only made you orgasm harder. miko let you slowed down, letting you ride out your high. you closed your eyes, tired and chest heaving. she hasn't pulled out yet and you paid no mind to it, too fucked out to have think about anything.

"m-mistress?? n-no please i-"

she suddenly started ramming herself into you again and she grinned at your surprised expression. "oh, what's the matter baby? i thought you wanted to cum?" she teased you, knowing full well how sensitive you were down there. she smiled at your cumdrunk expression and leaned close to your ear. giving it a little lick before nibbling on it as she whispered ;

"you're going to be making a mess on this dick all night, little one, and you can't do anything about it so just shut up and take it"

-- and she was right, you knew she was right. so you just made pretty sounds and bent to her will, all for your mistress and only for her, because that's all what you are now.

yae miko's pretty plaything. all for her to use.

#yae miko x reader #yae miko smut #yae miko x reader smut #yae miko #yae miko x female reader

265 notes · View notes

decaying-words · 8 months ago

Text

The Innocent

All chapters Jonathan Crane x Reader • 18+ Explicit • 4.1k words TW & tags: NonCon, fear kink, masturbation, awful everything AO3 • All my stories

"She whimpers audibly, her scent turning acrid and pungent now; fear, she reeks of fear. I pant, a hundred meters behind her, putting enough distance to remain a formless creature while still appearing very much real in the dim light. The soft tremor turns into heavy shaking when she turns her head behind her shoulder, as if to convince herself that this is just a dream, just like the others she’s had. Then she screams, oh! she screams…"

The Innocent

Foreign music notes of a perhaps forgotten song vibrate in my dry throat in low hums, barely covering the insistent scratch of the fountain pen darkening the cream coloured papers splayed on my antique desk. The watch which delicately sublimes my bony wrist with its dark brown Italian leather and finely carved metal hands indicate three hours and fifty-six minutes in the afternoon; I still have four whole minutes, I realize with a palpable excitement that is most unwelcome in my line of work. My patient is, without a single doubt, already waiting in the other room; I will not greet her before the time has come, for it is absolutely crucial to not reveal any ounce of delight or impatience. In fact, I must remain perfectly professional, detached and clinical, or else I am taking the risk of exposing my ulterior motives and intimate desires.

Four minutes is exactly the amount of time needed to adjust my tie (dark brown as well; a color not too contrasting to my marble pallor and which makes me look distinguished and inspires confidence, a key component in my profession), inspect my impeccable tweed vest made of Irish virgin wool dyed an exquisite amber color, and delicately clean the lenses of my round glasses with a microfiber cloth. Three hours fifty-nine; the last notes fade on my chapped lips when I leave my cognac leather armchair and direct my wiry frame to the door, spidery fingers holding the brass handle which feels pleasantly cold against my tight skin.

Within my aging ribcage are percussions worthy of Ravel’s Bolero; intense in nature and laced with the fruitful musicality of controlled nerves. The entrance is methodical, natural and restrained, with a smile, polite enough to be welcoming but faint enough to remain professional, and soft crow’s feets rolling in a pleasantness that seems genuine. There are no emotions in my eyes; yet, dissimulated behind my glasses it might be hard to tell. My voice is warm and comforting, despite the crystal-like brokenness of its undertones which has been forged through the years.

Her smile, painted in a shiny coral red, is wide and transpires a heavy relief. She has been looking forward to our session all week long, I am sure; she reminds me of a teapot in the way she lets her worries fester until they turn ugly and make her completely dysfunctional. Her fingers cross and uncross nervously on her lap, as if incapable of knowing what to do with her own body, before she stands up, flattening her perfectly ironed marine blue pencil skirt, and retrieves her matching blazer jacket. I hold the door open and she penetrates my office with a footstep so light it could have belonged to a ghost; I notice the floral notes of her perfume, horrifyingly sweet and childish.

Through the nine sessions we had together, it is worth mentioning that her outfits are always delicately picked, colors matching and completed with a set of earrings (one on each lobe), a gourmette bracelet with her name engraved (a baptism gift, I reckon), and a now very familiar pearl necklace which I abhor passionately. Her hair is always impeccably styled down and her face painted just enough to be womanly without looking like a whore; something important, I suppose, for it matters greatly to her father. She reminds me of a ventriloquist’s doll, carrying a fabricated superficiality that betrays the profound emptiness of her soul. I am not certain she likes her appearance very much, the short heeled suede shoes, the old-fashioned manicure or the vulgar pearl necklace; but rather that she likes the simulacre of control on her life this shows on the outside, especially to her father, a figure we never cease to talk about.

My patient does not sit down until I instruct her to, the anxiety to pick the wrong choice and disappointment still viciously anchored in her childhood; an emotionally absent and academically demanding father tends to create such complex insecurities in the younger hearts. I would know. As always, we will be talking about it; and as always, she will unravel the same pointless secrets in an uninteresting logorrhoea that could very well bore me to death if it weren’t for the topic of her recurrent nightmares, cautiously sprinkled in her stories and immensely more fascinating —from a clinical point of view, of course.

I am taking place in the armchair in front of hers, crossing one leg on top of the other, not dissimilar to two long and pale sticks enveloped in soft and tasteful fabric. My elevated ankle reveals the smallest ounce of marble skin, adorned with arched tendons which roll and disappear beneath the dark Egyptian cotton of my socks. I sense her heavy gaze following the slender silhouette of my legs to the tip of the deep brown leather of my derby shoes; a rosy tint blooms on her cheeks and my lips twitch in amused curiosity while she plays nervously with the pearls of this dreadful necklace which she is, in my humble opinion, either too old or too young to wear. She feels desire for me, despite being a couple of decades older than her; an expression, I believe, of her yearning for a paternal love, approval and affection.

My notebook lays graciously on my lap, angled in such a way that makes it impossible for her to see what I will be writing down, my treasured pen already in my hand. Adjusting my glasses on the long bridge of my aquiline nose, I offer her yet another muted smile, a silent invitation to begin the session; she appears flustered, blushing some more as I seem to have interrupted her train of thoughts —probably too vulgar for the image of herself she is desperately fabricating. I wonder if she is a virgin still, having spent the essential of her miserable life catering to her father’s needs and putting aside her own intimate desires; this would explain the subtle perfume of her throbbing sex floating in my office.

I find myself more than passively listening to her most uninteresting week in a way that freezes my nerves and makes me question my career choice, gently guiding her back to the heart of her confusing weaving as she wanders and rambles incoherently. None of her anecdotes are of importance to me, subtly urging her to open the can of her anxieties and core reason for her very presence on my couch; her recurring and unexplained nightmares.

A couple of months ago, this patient reached out to me in an attempt to exorcize her most intimate thoughts and find a more peaceful slumber. When asked the nature of her night terrors, she confessed, with great difficulty and restraint at first, having this peculiar dream for years now in which she finds herself wandering around the unknown alleys of a surrealist city reminiscing of a dark and sterile-looking maze. She can never tell where she is, every window and every door looking the same, every turn sensibly similar to the next, the streetlights aggressively cutting harsh shadows against the smooth walls of the buildings.

As her journey progresses, she notices a shadowy form following her every step and which does not make a noise aside from an ominous buzzing that makes the lights crackle; though it has not touched her yet, its presence alone is dreadful and suffocating enough to make her survival instincts kick in. She runs through the maze-like alleys in a vain hope to escape the figure, never successful in her doing; the shadow creeping at every corner, slipping through the cracks of the building like a liquid void, looming over her like a toxic cloud, and always watching her with empty eyes and whispering incomprehensible and otherworldly things in a gnarly voice resembling a sinister borborygmus.

She wakes up screaming, in tears and drenched in sweat before it can seize her.

There is an obvious answer behind her anxiety, one draped in the cloak of her oppressing father; and yet, despite the last few unproductive sessions and unfruitful attempts to take in my hypothesis, she rejects all and any idea of daddy dearest being the root of her misery. My poor sweet girl. Through her almost touching callowness if it weren’t laced with pungent naïveté, I find great intellectual pleasure in studying her profound fear; sometimes, when the moon hits and soaks my office in a creamy light, I dissect my numerous notes, each scribbled word reminiscing me of her giant doll-like eyes turning glassy with emotion, her painted lips aquiver with wretched anguish, her neatly cared eyebrows knitted in visible despair. She reminds me viciously of a newborn deer, frail and fragile; a sight so delicious it never fails to make my turgid sex throb in interest. I have learnt since to keep my legs crossed in front of her, of course.

Her fear is at the image of her personality; carefully crafted by her visceral fantasies which she struggles to control, as if her fabricated identity would cease and disappear if she knew how to confront it. There is something delectable in her innocent emotions, something exquisitely cruel in how laughable of a person she is, and I find myself morbidly curious to see her façade break and release her true self, dying and being born again. It is exhilarating really, the prospect of witnessing her weak mind shatter and rebuild itself, morphing into something pure and liberated, surpassing her ugly cocoon.

Fear is the most sublime emotion, a capricious mistress that transforms all beings into primal creatures; there is a beast inside all of us, I firmly believe, a döppleganger, infinitely mightier and profoundly fascinating, that only fear can free and liberate. I based my entire life on understanding the beauty of fear and how to elevate and transcend it, achieving our most glorious form; prying at people’s most intimate insecurities and feeding them the putrid fruits they truly do need to alter their mind irremediably, for their own benefit, I am certain. As such, it is past the clinical need but rightfully with a voracious desire and spiritual intention that I wish to see and unravel my Innocent’s breaking point.

The sound of her trembled sob wakes me from my contemplative state, and I realize with great indifference that I missed her last couple of sentences, which I believe gave her yet another heartache. My occulted gaze devours the sight of her pained face, glassy eyes crying perfectly round and warm tears, her bunny nose reddening; I do not care much for her grief, an emotion I find particularly repulsive and grotesque and which she seems to feel quite frequently; this might be why I find her so unpleasant to be around. Instead, I hand her the tissue box that she politely accepts, wiping her tears and runny nose.

The corner of my mouth twitches in disgust when I see her nervously touch her pearl necklace once again. This abominable pearl necklace that embodies everything about her that I hate; her child-like appearance despite being well into her thirties, her synthetic demeanor forged by an unyielding desire to be loved, her emotionally incestuous relationship with her undeserving father and her complete and total lack of self-esteem.

Today’s session comes to an end and I am afraid we did not progress much, to my great dismay. I offer her the same frigid smile in which she always seems to find comfort when I open the door and shake her hand, a stark contrast to the warmth and subtle stickiness of her skin. She thanks me profusely and I nod in return, wishing her a pleasant rest of the day; I will be seeing her next week.

My simulacre of a smile fades as soon as she exits my office, a boiling irritation tinting the tip of my ears a crimson color, akin to a single rose in a snowy garden. I take an involuntary peek at my reflection in the window as I run a wiry hand in the dark feathers of my hair, silvering at the temples, a few gray strands adorning the generally brown mass. My thick eyebrows are knitted together in profound frustration, collecting today’s notes and sitting at my desk to study them. I cannot be satisfied with the glimpse of her unfledged anxieties, our exchanges do not nurture me professionally or otherwise ; slumping heavily in the leather armchair, a deep sigh swelling my tight chest, I lose myself in the labyrinthic corners of my mind, all the while ignoring the aggressive hardness of my sex, its throbbing feeling like the greatest treason in this precise moment.

I will not bring myself to completion tonight, for I find her fear vulgar and unworthy of my seed, a womb so barren it feels utterly meaningless. I will not even touch myself, I decide, denying her the attention and importance she desperately yearns for, refusing to besmirch my pride for such an insensitive mind. She is spoiling the sap of her soul in a way that is perfectly unacceptable to me and makes her look profoundly hideous; and I refuse to harvest the rotten fruits of a putrid heart. Instead, I will spend the night lost in my thoughts, with deep indignation for sole company.

It took me a complete day to recover from my turmoil and hatch a plan I deem satisfying, and four more to establish a detailed inventory of her nightly habits; following her at a reasonable distance in a now familiar fashion, carefully noting down any information of importance, I managed to know exactly when she finishes work, which Café she frequents, where she goes grocery shopping, which metro she takes home… During the day and in between two consultations, I conscientiously study the map of her neighborhood, carving in my memory every alley, every path, every building until I have a clear representation of my hunting territory. Victorious is a word that comes to my mind after such rewarding labor.

Tonight is the night. I am wearing my real skin, flesh made of burlap and soiled rag, fur made of dry straw and rotten thread stitching my articulations together. The used rope rolls like tendons around my throat, the noose loose enough to breath but not enough for it to be comfortable; a simple pleasure that will leave bruised memories on my neck like a passionate lover would. I caress my clothed form, the sensation unpleasant and rough to the touch and yet so deliciously stimulating, a sensation that never fails to make me hum appreciatively, heartbeat inappropriately lively for a Scarecrow .

It is ten hours and forty-five minutes on a Thursday night; she has been to the library tonight, devouring romance novels with her third cup of herbal tea –something horrifyingly fruity, I assume. An activity she indulges frequently, seeking refuge and comfort in the elegant place, something I cannot blame her for, considering the depraved state of the rest of Gotham, in stark contrast to the magnificence of the old architecture. This habit will also work in my favor, draping myself in the thickness of the night, my elongated figure barely noticeable in the corner of the street; at best, two glowing orbs pierce the obscurity, reminiscent of an animal of some sort, or better yet of an unsettling monster.

I hum the broken notes of an unknown song, a simple habit that feels right, lured in the dark and waiting for her to penetrate the first alley; I recognize her ghost-like footstep, short heels clacking subtly on the pavement, naive and unaware. Oh, my sweet girl.

She does not sense me for the first two hundred meters, her oblivious demeanor both entertaining and frustrating. There is something viscerally exquisite about seeing without being seen, teasing a very particular part of me; an almost erotic melange of power and impunity. I came to realize with age and experience that hunting is not dissimilar to foreplay, and therein lies my current problem; foreplay is not endless teasing, for I am neither patient nor interested in maintaining myself on the edge of my pleasure. And when I am being ignored for too long, I cannot help but feel somewhat insulted; ultimately, I want her to see me.

My fingernails tap and scratch the cold bricks, an abominable gurgling noise escaping my fatigued throat. She freezes instantly, and my sex twitches in sensible interest which I attempt to calm down, a feverish excitement pooling in my stomach. I distinguish the tremor in her silhouette and her breath hitching ever so slightly, a subtle perfume floating in the air, one that I know by heart now and makes my mind sing and mouth salivate. She does not look behind her, a wise choice I would say under more normal circumstances, her pace quickening in the narrow alley right between the first and third street of Gray Avenue.

I inhale the acidic perfume of my body; I would like to say that my entire form is impregnated with the residuals of an old chemical toxin I’ve developed decades ago, but perhaps it is simply my own essence, now corrupted to its very core. I am certain that the delirious effects of these quasi pheromones will soon hit her as well and change her like I expect her to.

As she navigates through the almost pitch black alleys, fingertips grazing at the walls to help her find her way, I wheeze a wretched noise from within my ribcage, dreadful sounds I have been practicing since I was born and which never seems to get old. My poor girl is sobbing earnestly now, an arm wrapped around her middle section as if to seek comfort, almost running away from me, her short heels making a music akin to a typewriter in the night of Gotham. I am fully aware I have her complete attention, but I wish she would just look at me.

I run after her, vomiting more guttural gibberish from my distorted voice, fingernails hitting and scratching every surface in a pleading cacophony. She whimpers more frankly, I can tell how delicate her nerves are at this very moment. In her panic, she picks the wrong turn. Exquisite.

She looks around her with agony and confusion, persuaded that she would be welcomed by a bridge crossing the river of the Old Street; instead, she is met with a damp and sinister dead end. She whimpers audibly, her scent turning acrid and pungent now; fear, she reeks of fear . I pant, a hundred meters behind her, putting enough distance to remain a formless creature while still appearing very much real in the dim light. The soft tremor turns into heavy shaking when she turns her head behind her shoulder, as if to convince herself that this is just a dream, just like the others she’s had. Then she screams, oh! she screams…

Her crystalline voice breaks and shatters, pure and visceral, high pitched and perverted with terror; I am so hard I could hammer a nail in raw wood. I move in a dislocated fashion, long limbs akin to spider legs, the nightmarish look making her trip and fall on her bottom and crawl back, fingers desperately digging in the cold pavement until a nail breaks, curling her form into a ball in a damp corner. She cries so hard her face turns ruby red, smeared mascara leaving dark streaks on her puffy cheeks, glistening saliva bubbling on her screaming lips – oh, how beautiful she is, my sweet girl. My cock feels heavy in my now awfully tight pants; under different circumstances, maybe I would have offered her a different fate.

She hides her face in her arms, fingers grabbing ferociously at her hair as if trying to wake herself up, but she doesn’t, no, she doesn’t wake up, and the reality is sinking in, especially when I am standing not even five meters in front of her. There is a bitter, stinging smell in the air, and a recognizable warm golden puddle underneath her shaking body that glistens beautifully under the moonlight; I purr in between two groans, witnessing her weakest form dissolve and collapse into the void of her mind that I have conceived. I want to create her anew, an abomination made of flesh and terror, and she will recognize me as her cruel Creator. My low distorted voice echoes in the muted alley, inspired and impassioned.

Are you afraid, child?

She screams louder, screams for help, screams for her life. But no one will save her, not here, not in Gotham, not this pathetic piss soaked girl . I mock and taunt her, towering over her as she chokes on her own sobs, desperate and painfully lonely. Why won’t anyone save me , she must be thinking. Why did Father lock me in this cell, she must be thinking. Why did Father abandon me in the cornfield. My laugh sounds more like a croak, sinister and penetrating, while she begs me for her life.

Do you know who I am, child?

She does not. I blame it on her delirious state, on her body pumping her full of adrenaline, and most probably the toxins my body produces and which she’s been inhaling. This will not do, however; I want to ruin her in a way that matters, and for that to happen I need her to know who I am, what I represent.

I crouch in front of her weaker form, barking her name and demanding she looks at me, which she does, obediently so; I reiterate my question, my hands hunched like claws scratching the walls around her. She cries harder, but her body produces no more tears, exhausted and drained; she screws her eyes shut and so I have no other option but to grab her hair viciously, forcing her to look at me.

And she does, oh she does , giant glassy eyes that lost their innocent spark and instead glow with a fury only trauma could forge and terror could sublimate. She sees the humiliation and the absence, the neglect and the judgment; she sees what she could have been if it had not been taken away from her. She does not say it but she mouths it, the two syllables of her misery.

Father.

My cackle is nothing short of demoniac, entire body jerking wildly enough to remember my turgid sex still leaking its filth in my ruined pants, heartbeat frantic as I am slowly but surely reaching my peak; release is not only needed but deserved , I believe, as my hand crawl inside my pants and free my cock, seizing it in a vicious grip that is mostly pain under her terrified and disgusted gaze. I take in her beautifully wrecked face as I pump myself with vigor and intent while croaking heavy moans, my eyes devouring every single wrinkle, every tear and tremor, swallowing the sight of the tense tendons of her throat choking on her sobs until I hiss in disgust at the repugnant pearl necklace.

She does not need it anymore, I believe. And so, in a movement aquiver with lust and desire, my knotted fingers slip under the chain akin to a snake closing its embrace. She shrieks in pain when I pull tightly, a most needed evil I am afraid although ephemeral, the horrendous necklace eventually giving in to my brutal punishment and breaking. I hear the clattering of the pearls falling and rolling on the pavement, hand still tightly locked around my cock as I fuck my fist earnestly in deliciously wet noises; she caresses the skin of her bare neck, as if understanding something, her terrified eyes turning back at me and begging me to let her go. Oh, my sweet child, be certain that I will miss your honeyed pleas…

My orgasm comes quickly, long spurts of milky cum spilling on her throat, the soft flesh now adorning a unique, more appropriate and beautiful set of pearls. A generous gift, one she will remember fondly, I am certain. Her lower lips tremble as more tears roll down her cheek, although not a sound comes out of her mouth. I understand, it is a lot to process. Therapy can be difficult sometimes.

I left her alone to collect herself. Once home, and after a quick yet invigorating shower, I became busy writing down in great detail tonight’s experiment and, one must admit, its most triumphant outcome.

The day before our scheduled appointment, she informed me that she would not be able to come, pretending to have a cold. I understood, of course, and asked her if I would see her next week then. She said that she wasn’t certain, and that she would call back. She never did.

#jonathan crane #the scarecrow #jonathan crane x reader #the scarecrow x reader #fanfic #my writing

68 notes · View notes

fishenjoyer1 · 5 months ago

Text

Fish of the Day

Today's fish of the day is the bluebottle fish!

The bluebottle fish, also called the man-o-war fish, scientific name Nomeus gronovii, is known for their strange lifestyle. Similar to that of clownfish and their life in the anemone, the bluebottle fish lives in and around the tentacles of the Portuguese man o' war or bluebottle. Little is known about this species due to their hard to reach nature, as mon o' war are known for their stinging cells, filled with venom that can induce something similar to an allergic reaction, which can be fatal. However, unlike the clownfish living in anemone, the blue bottle fish does not have a mucus membrane preventing them from being stung.

As opposed to what may be assumed, when hearing a fish such as the bluebottle fish is living within a highly venomous animal, the bluebottle fish is not immune to being killed by the man o' war. The fish primarily avoids firing the nematocysts by swimming around them, physically avoiding the larger tentacles. This is made easier by the 41 vertebrae within the bluebottle fish and surprising agility. There is also a complex skin layer, containing at least 1 antibody and giving them the ability to withstand the toxin to limits far above any other fish. The bluebottle fish uses this to feed on the tentacles and gonads of the man -o' war, and they can get as large as 39cm in length.

This animal lives in the deep pelagic zones of the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian oceans, following where man o' wars can be found. They occur between 200 to 1,200 meters of depth, usually in higher waters. During reproduction, this fish will release eggs as the male, who is within the same man o' war, fertilizes. This can give between 100 to 1,000 offspring at a time, and these eggs are adapted to open water. After hatching (4-5 days after they are laid), these larvae will live in the open ocean, surviving off of plankton and zooplankton. This is until they find a man o' war and settle down at the top of the bell, where they will remain until more agile. Juveniles are between 5-15cm in length, and display a bright blue color that will fade in adults. Their lifespan lasts up to 5 years

Have a wonderful day, everyone!

40 notes · View notes

chrysochroma · 1 month ago

Text

a walk in the Garden

My gift for @star01134 as a part of the @mcyt-halloween Gift Exchange! Enjoy :D

Read on Ao3

TW: Eye horror/body horror

“Are you ready to leave?”

She spoke softly, but her words were clear. “I don’t know. Do you think we’re ready?” “About as ready as we will be.”

She furrowed her eyebrows the slightest bit. “What do you mean?”

Etho gave a small shrug and leaned back on the fence post behind him. “At a certain point, more preparation won’t help, so there’s no point in waiting.”

The two of them were stood on the edge of the small town, about 100 meters from the edge of the Garden. A fence taller than he was spanned across the edge of town in an attempt to ward off people who thought it a good idea to venture in. It worked for most.

The scene, fence and all, was practically ingrained in his memory, having been there dozens of times more than the average person. He knew just where the grass faded from a cool green into a bleak gray, when the bark of the trees turned gnarled and lifeless, when the sky faded from bright blue to completely unsaturated.

It took him a long time to realize the beauty of it—longer than any of his customers could stand being there. Sometimes he wished others could recognize its simple elegance, but it didn’t surprise him to see apprehension in their expressions instead.

The traveler looked at Etho, perhaps just starting to realize just how far out of her depth she was. He recognized that look on her face—mostly confusion, concealing the hint of primal terror that she hadn’t quite realized was there yet, regardless of the fact that her expression differed slightly from what he usually saw.

It usually didn’t take too long for them to realize, once they had started their journey. He knew how it would go. Sometimes his companions would talk, wanting to discuss the trip ahead or have the usual small talk conversation of “So how long have you been doing this?” and “What got you into it?” and “Why do you even bother?” Most of the time he tried to answer as simply as possible, giving one-word answers unless it would be impractical not to. He had garnered a reputation for being a man of few words and he saw no reason to start diverting from it now.

The more experienced ones were usually less talkative. It made sense—once you understood exactly what the next couple of weeks entailed, small talk really didn’t seem necessary.

Etho was having a hard time fitting this person into either of those categories. At first glance, she was an average customer—visibly nervous, with at least a little understanding of the journey ahead—maybe a mix of the two, he thought. Upon further examination, though, he realized that what he had mistaken for nervousness was actually more along the lines of alertness.

Her face returned to a neutral state, any hint of confusion or fear completely gone. “I apologize for my reaction. That caught me a bit off-guard, but I’m still ready to leave at the nearest convenience.”

Etho couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. He hadn’t heard that before, that’s for sure. “We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning, just after the sun rises. That’ll give us some time to get some rest before we leave.”

She hesitated a bit before responding. “Actually, would it be possible if we left earlier?”

At this point, nearly everything she said surprised him. Still, he weighed the options in his head, speaking his thoughts out loud. “Late afternoon isn’t exactly the best time to leave, but if it’s necessary, I can make it work. However, I strongly advise that we wait until morning.”

She glanced down as she took in the information, then looked back up at Etho. “I see. If you think it’s best, we should leave tomorrow.”

He nodded. “We’ll meet here at sunrise tomorrow, then.”

She returned his nod before turning and walking towards the center of town, where she was most likely staying for the night.

Etho waited a few seconds before he retrieved the piece of paper folded neatly in his pocket—the record of who exactly required his services.

Her name was Ivory Cavallo and she was a farmer from a relatively rural town. That was it. That was all of the information he had on this unnaturally calm customer of his.

It wasn’t like she didn’t fit the part—she had nearly white hair down to her shoulders and was wearing a brown jacket and long, dark pink skirt, both of which looked relatively worn. At first glance, it was perfectly reasonable that she be a farmer from a random town. Yet, she was a strong contender for “least terrified customer,” even though they hadn’t started the journey. Usually, when people ask to leave earlier, they’re trying to get across the Garden before something along the lines of a family member dying happens, which isn’t very negotiable. Unsurprisingly, neither is their preferred schedule.

Ivory, however, seemed perfectly fine with his objection, so that probably wasn’t the case for her, meaning that she just wanted to leave earlier of her own volition.

This route through the Garden was worse than most people’s last resort. Nobody wants to go if they don’t have to. Nobody wants to leave sooner if they don’t have to. So why did she?

Etho looked back up to see the edge of Ivory’s skirt disappear through the door of a restaurant. He refolded the piece of paper, pocketed it, then headed in the same direction. He held the restaurant door open for a couple that hastily avoided making eye contact with him, then stepped inside, letting the warmth of the busy atmosphere wash over him. He took a quick scan of the patrons inside, not taking long to find Ivory.

She was sitting alone at a table for two, intently focused on the piece of paper in her hands.

Etho quickly turned his eyes towards the bar instead, thinking it best not to dwell. He took a seat and let his mind wander, counting down the time until they left the next morning.

⎺ 𓎱 ⎺

Ivory stepped out into the brisk barely-morning air, straightening her jacket as she closed the door behind her. She looked across the horizon, just able to spot the top of the sun from above the wall of mountains to one side of the town, then started towards the spot she had met Etho the previous day.

He was already there, leaning against the same fence post as yesterday. He had a backpack on now, though, as well as a pair of curved short swords hanging from sheathes on his waist. The mask he had on yesterday was still obscuring his face from his nose down.

From the little that she had heard about her guide, nobody had ever seen him with it off. She half expected the reason he wore it to be just adding to the mystery that he was already drowning in. She had heard about the swords hanging from his belt, too—mainly tales of how they slashed through the beasts of the Garden with ease, slicing through the air in shining steel streaks fast enough that the creatures’ molasses-thick blood sprayed off in amber arcs.

To say the least, Ivory was skeptical. She wanted to be skeptical of everything she heard, but she knew that the rumors weren’t entirely false. From what she knew of the Garden, anyone who made it through had to be more skilled than your average person, and this guide of hers had taken the journey more than once. Needless to say, any skepticism she had was firmly overshadowed by trust.

Ivory stopped next to Etho.

He gave her a slight nod. “Morning.”

She returned it. “Good morning.”

He gestured to the bag on her back. “Just the essentials?”

“Yes.”

“Ready to go?”

“Yep.”

Etho turned and stepped carefully through the fence, then stopped to wait for her on the other side.

Man of few words indeed.

She followed him, pausing for a second before following Etho as he set off towards the Garden.

Ivory had never really seen the Garden before. She had only heard others’ descriptions, which all painted it as a bone-gray, hellish woodland, like it could’ve been beautiful if all of the life wasn’t sucked out of it. According to them, the trees were nothing but gnarled, stone-hard bark, razor blade leaves and putrid orange flowers like demons’ eyes, with ashen moss that dropped from their branches to the ground in curtains that collected in creeping piles on the ground, obstructing the little light that could make it through the treetops. The roots of the trees jutted up through the ground, tearing through the terrain and criss-crossing through the grass, while the branches snaked into the sky like a lightning strike, towering over anything that dared enter.

In their words, it was horrifying. In her eyes, it was serene.

Everything was perfectly still—unnaturally so, but calming nonetheless. She felt pleasantly alone amongst the trees, like no one was there to watch her. It was quiet too—there were no insects or animals to add ambient noises to their trek—only the sounds of their own footsteps. She could’ve stayed there for years if it weren’t for the voice in the back of her mind screaming at her not to. It was peaceful when the sun lit their way, sure, but as it dipped below the horizon, Ivory’s story of the forest became a different one.

The Garden was still silent as the sky above became pitch black. Etho lit up a torch, offering them a small sphere of light to see with. Only the sounds of their boots on the ground could be heard through the trees. But every step that they took, she could tell that they were being watched. She didn’t know from where, just that they weren’t alone. Of course they weren’t.

Without fail, every time someone brought up the Garden, their next breath addressed the creatures that lie within. She had never gotten a clear grasp of exactly what they were. Some described them as hulking monsters made from the same material as the trees. They would crawl out from the ground below and use their scythe-sharp claws to slice your tendons, leaving you trapped on the Garden floor. Some said they were beasts of shadow covered in glowing orange eyes, capable of passing through the trees and moss like it wasn’t there. They were just as capable of passing through you, leaving you cold and paralyzed, unable to call for help. Others said they took the form of lost travelers pleading for help and directions, and when you turned your back they would cut you down, taking advantage of your kindness.

In short, nobody really had a clue of what they were. Everybody could agree on one thing, though—the sounds they made. Sounds like the slow, drawn-out snapping of a fallen log, like the groan of old wood flooring, like the sharp snaps of tree branches coming into contact. The sounds the Creakings were named after.

A branch snapped behind them. Etho’s swords were in his hands the second he spun towards the origin of the sound, eyes scanning through the trees. Ivory froze, her hands almost twitching. A single, yellow-orange eye opened through the trees. Ivory locked onto it, staring into the pupilless, citrine glow radiating from it.

“Keep looking at it,” Etho told her. Then he was gone.

Another eye opened, basking more of the trees in its glow. Then a third, then a fourth, leaving Ivory to rotate her gaze between the four. Three of them closed. Ivory found herself looking at a section of gray bark rather than a warm yellow glow. The Creaking got closer. It was quick, scuttling through the trees, covering a quarter the distance between them in half a second. Ivory looked back into one of its opened eyes. It froze. The eye closed. Ivory looked into another before it could catch up. There was less than ten feet between them now. It was blinking faster, opening and closing its eyes at random. Ivory kept staring. Her eyes were starting to water. They were aching, almost. Branches rustled above her. She blinked. Wind rushed by. The sound of branches snapping came from right in front of her. She finally opened her eyes. A Creaking stood half a foot away. One of Etho’s swords was embedded in its head, thick, golden blood running from the wound down its face.

She heard Etho’s voice from behind her. “Ivory, step back.”

She took a step back.

Etho stepped forward, holding a jagged chunk of amber pulsing with light in one hand and his remaining sword in the other.

The Creaking was moving slower now, like its energy had been stolen.

Still keeping his eyes on it, Etho ran his sword through the chunk of resin, leaving it there like meat on a skewer. He strode forward, then plunged his sword into its heart.

The Creaking started to crumble, turning to dust right in front of them. Etho’s other sword dropped to the ground. He picked it up, sheathed both of them, then turned to Ivory.

“Are you okay?”

Her muscles untensed slightly. “Yes.”

He nodded. One of his eyes seemed to shine with a yellow tint in the faint moonlight.

⎺ 𓎱 ⎺

Traveling through the Garden was a difficult route on its own, forgoing the challenges of timing. Usually, Etho would have to weigh the options on a daily basis—sleep during the day and lose valuable safe traveling time or try and fail to sleep at night in an effort to save said time. Usually the decision was pretty easy, but on this trip, the debate was a little harder. For once, he was tempted to consider taking shifts at night.

Usually, this was nowhere near an option. Saving a few days’ travel total wasn’t worth the probable deaths of both his clientele and himself, but Etho had a feeling that Ivory could take care of herself.

Eventually, the two of them stopped for a short break. It was still dark, but they had been walking for hours at that point.

“Five minutes,” Etho said.

“Okay.”

The two of them found a fallen log that they could sit on to rest. Ivory set her bag on her lap, then dug into it and retrieved a pair of silver sickles. They were shiny, like they were brand new, never having touched a speck of soil. Either that or she had polished them well enough to hide any trace of dirt. They looked sharp. The handles were worn. They were well used, just perfectly clean and honed to a razor’s edge. Not exactly what most sickles looked like. He watched as she attached them to her belt, letting them hang by her sides. It was a quick process, one that she was clearly familiar with.

Etho took a sip of water from his flask and stood back up. Ivory did the same shortly after, the two of them continuing on their journey once again.

As they walked, Etho kept trying to place Ivory into one of his two categories, to which he failed miserably. She wasn’t nearly talkative enough to be naïve, but she also didn’t seem like fear was the thing preventing her from talking. And her sickles—there was no way she was just a farmer. Maybe she looked the part, but her instincts told him otherwise. She had a staring contest with a Creaking and didn’t flinch. Didn’t scream, didn’t try to run—hell, she looked ready to fight it.

Another creak from their right. This time, he was able to hear it form, giving him more than enough time to turn to Ivory. “Same as last time, alright?”

Without waiting for an answer, he launched himself upwards, latching onto the bark of the trees and pulling himself into the branches.

It had taken Etho a while to figure out that the creatures’ weakness was hidden in the trees above them, in the form of a pulsing amber heart. If you kill it, you kill the Creaking. It took him significantly less time to realize that the tree branches were dense enough to climb through.

Their hearts made a distinct sound, like wind rustling through fallen leaves—otherwise absent in the Garden—which he frantically searched for as he scrambled through the treetops. Usually it didn’t take him this long to find.

Below him, Ivory had dropped into a fighting stance, sickles in hand. Her eyes were locked straight ahead, staring into the eyes of the Creaking. She looked tense, coiled up like a spring.

Etho returned his focus to the branches and the sound he should’ve been hearing by now. Its heart couldn’t be too far away, that’s where they formed from and he literally heard it form—besides, they were practically tethered to it. As far as he was aware, a Creaking physically couldn’t get too far away from its heart without something happening. Still though, he heard nothing.

It was getting closer to her. Keeping eye contact with a Creaking’s ever-changing eyes was hard enough as is, and if you added fatigue on top of it, it was nearly impossible to keep one at bay solely by staring. She seemed to already be aware of this fact. It bolted closer. She readjusted her grip.

A sound like the crunch of a fallen leaf rang in Etho’s ears. From the right. He spun towards it and spotted the heart almost instantly after, the faint orange glow a stark difference from the surrounding gray. He lunged forward, tearing through curtains of moss to reveal the pulsing chunk of amber.

Ivory’s sickles clashed against the Creaking’s stone-hard armor, trying and failing to slice through.

He ripped the heart from where it was nested between the tree’s branches, its light fading slightly when he did so.

Finally, her blades started to gain purchase on its armored exterior, ripping through the top layer of its flesh.

Etho unsheathed one of his swords, aiming for the heart in his hand.

A sharp crack came from directly beneath him. Etho tensed, ready to spring back into a fight, then fell. The branch gave out from beneath him, sending him tumbling. It was a short fall, but enough to knock the wind out of him. He lost his grip on both the heart and his sword, reaching frantically for both of them before they could fall too far. He just barely grabbed the very end of his sword’s hilt by the tips of his fingers as the heart hit the ground behind Ivory.

It took him a split second to properly grab his sword before launching himself off the branch to go retrieve the heart—but only moved a foot before he was yanked back. The hood of his jacket had caught on a tree branch, offsetting the trajectory of his jump so that he was headed straight down instead of where he planned to be. He almost didn’t catch himself, now hanging by one hand on a branch, sword dangling from the other.

He looked down. Ivory was still fighting it, ruthless in her strikes but not quite holding her ground. It was pushing her farther and farther back as her sickles whirled in gleaming silver circles around it, amber blood pouring out of the cuts across its body. She looked completely focused on the task at hand, analyzing its movements and reacting faster than it could, all while maintaining eye contact.

Etho wondered where she learned to fight. Then he went back to concentrating.

“Ivory, behind you!”

Instead of immediately looking behind her, Ivory elected to jab the point of one of her sickles into the chest of the monster, then pushed it so the two of them were facing the other way. Smart. Her expression changed after she did so; she noticed the chunk of amber on the ground, while still staring into the Creaking’s eyes. Her demeanor changed once more, back into the determination that it had been previously. She pushed forward, putting all of her weight into her cuts, sticky, glowing blood coating her blades. Her eyes were locked on those of the Creaking, unblinking as she forced it back.

Finally, she reached the pulsing heart on the ground, kicking it up with one foot to retrieve it. She stabbed it onto the point of one of her sickles, then drove it into its chest, tearing an oozing gash through its flesh, blood pouring like syrup onto the ground.

Another crack caught Etho’s ears.

Behind her. Five feet away. Too close to survive. He pulled himself up, then he dove.

⎺ 𓎱 ⎺

It screamed when she dealt the final blow, like the crackling of logs in a fire. She thought she heard another crack from behind her. A flash of movement passed her from above.

The Creaking in front of her crumbled, vanishing into dust that melted into the mossy forest floor. Ivory took a second’s breath before turning around.

There was another one, less than five feet away. It was on the ground and Etho was on top of it, his swords discarded by his sides. His mask had fallen down. The skin underneath looked gray. And textured. Like the bark of the trees. His eyes were glowing yellow as he stared into the Creaking’s for once unmoving eyes.

A slit on Etho’s cheek split open, almost as if on its own accord. The light that poured out was the same shade of warm, sticky yellow. Another eye opened, this time on the other side of his face. Then another, across the bridge of his nose. The Creaking remained unmoving. So did Etho.

Then it started to shudder, like it was shivering, almost. Then it was gone, dissolved into the floor like the other one.

Slowly, Etho got up, then turned to her. The eyes that had opened across his face closed again, the yellow fading from his normal pair of eyes. The texture of his skin remained, though.

“Thank you,” she said. Nothing else.

Etho nodded, his expression returning to its usual calmness, now tinged with relief. “You’re welcome. Nice fighting.”

“Thank you. You too,” She added.

“Thanks.” He paused for a second. “You were trained somewhere, right? You’re too good to be self-taught.”

She nodded. “A while ago, yeah. I don’t fight anymore.”

“I figured.” Of course he did. “Enjoying your life as a farmer?”

“I am.” An ever-so-slight smile flitted onto her face, gone just as quickly as it appeared. “Do you enjoy yours?”

His mask was still around his neck from when it had fallen, the torchlight illuminating the desaturated gray of the skin around his mouth and jaw. He shrugged. “It’s not bad.”

Ivory let out a quick laugh.

The sun was starting to rise behind them, adding a faint light to their surroundings. What little sounds there were during the night faded out, leaving the two in silence. Now in the presence of the glowing sun, they continued their journey.

#mcythalloween2024 #horror #mcyt #ethoslab #ivorycello #chroma writing

8 notes · View notes

professorlizzard · 1 month ago

Text

A True Halloween Game

In this post, I shall regale you about one of the oldest games I am still passionate about: Ghost Master. If you know me, you probably know about my enthusiasm for this game. But in case you don't, let me take you on a magical journey.

Ghost Master's title screen greets you with a haunted mansion, a spooky ghost, and few pumpkins, both grinning and non grinning. After spooky laugh, organ music begins to play, signalling that something spooky this way comes.

But before we truly start our magical journey, I have to point out the "Complete Edition" sign under the title. Well, you see, this 20 year old game from 2023 has an active modding community. Through forbidden alchemy, they have learned how to create new models that look like something straight from 2000s, allowing them to bring back ghosts that were cut during the concept art phase. They have also fixed several game breaking bugs and performance issues! If, after reading my post, you take the risk and play this game, I highly recommend to do so by also installing this mod. The next update is right around the corner! Mind you, it might NOT be compatible with any and all previous save games. This mod is compatible with both Steam and GoG versions, on both platforms they are being sold for pennies.

Anyways, lets continue with the actual presentation, shall we?

After a beautifully cheesy cutscene, you are placed before the improperly clipped map of the small town of Gravenville, a small New England town. The various available missions appear like pop up book contents, complete with eerily creaking cardboard noises.

The big, spooky mansion is actually not a level, but your home base!

Here, you can peruse your collection of ghosts, and teach them new powers as needed. Say hello to some of your new friends!

This is Clatterclaws, one of the cheapest ghosts, with only a small selection of low level powers. Of course, she is actually one the best ghosts in the game.

And there is Hunchcork, one of the ghosts created from scratch! His original model was lost, so he was resurrected based on some concert art! Look at those polygons, he looks perfectly the same style as Clatterclaws.

You can see several more ghosts on this one, including a poltergeist in the background, made from pure particle effects. Speaking of effects: the ghosts have an effect where they slowly fade in and out with a green tint. This is achieved by having an invisible green light source rotate around them all the time. Its a weird solution, but it is interesting.

Starting our first actual mission brings us to our first training assignment as a Ghost Master. What *is* a Ghost Master? Well, it is a kind of undead civil servant, working for the Haunting Committee, performing assignments to scare mortals for various reasons. Maybe some have badmouthed the dead! Maybe there is an hidden murder in the house that you must avenge! But in this case, you have to spook this Sorority House, just to prove you can.

This is a simple mission, mainly featuring pajama and bathrobe clad university students. Just like a slasher movie I guess. Initially, a fragile moment of unearthly calm is held. No mortal will get scared, nor will they calm down. The music of this initial phase is a peaceful astral choir. But the moment you start using powers, it will become a procedurally generated arrangement of horror chords on all kinds of instruments.

Looking into the house, you can see that it is pretty sims like. Mortals are walking about, performing a routine, mostly visiting a set number of rooms in order. Until disrupted that is. If you scare a mortal too much in the bathroom on the upper floor, they might decide to instead visit the one on the lower floor!

A mortal has several stats. Terror meter in red, Madness in orange, and Belief in blue, a long with the white willpower bar on the terror and madness meters.

If Terror goes above this willpower, the mortal will flee! This is usually your goal, but some levels will penalize you for this: you will need them to be around for dark machinations. If Madness exceeds willpower, the mortal will go insane. This is honestly not a mechanic I like. It harshes the spooky halloween vibe of the game in my opinion, on top of it being too hard to do anyways. I tend to not use it, but, I have to mention its existence.

Belief will make a mortal get more scared from terror attacks, as mortal exposed to indoor rain will be less likely to rationalize pizza boxes flying around the room.

Lastly, Fears are personal fears of the mortal, making certain fear types hit them for more terror. In turn, they gain resistance to some other fear types. People afraid of fire will not be scared by flooding, for example. If you use powers to uncover these fears, you will gain a higher end mission score, and some powers have extra effects, fork example, ghosts with Spooky Whispering abilities will be able to know what to whisper about.

To summon a ghost in the world, you have to provide a Fetter for them, along with some plasm. For example, Cogjammer, a gremlin spirit of an organ grinder's grinded monkey, requires electricity to manifest on the mortal plane. You can see the TV and Radio has helpfully lit up!

Here he is... monkey... You see he used up 5 plasm out of 100. Well, used up is not the correct word. He is borrowing it. Well, lets assign more plasm to him!

Here you can see him use the power of SPARKS to terrify some of the girls, as indicated by the colour coded rings. You can see, that as folks get scared, my total plasm goes up! This is the game's main feedback loop: equip ghosts with plasm to scare people, to gain plasm to equip ghosts with... Now, as people calm down, your total plasm decreases. If you ever somehow, become overdrawn in the plasm bank, you have few seconds to fix it. Fail, and you will be banished from the mortal realms!

The power menu is pretty simple. You select the maximum power you want to allow them to use. The ghost will use them an order of their choice, based on the ghost's personality, affected by a ghost's training level. A less trained ghost will start using the powers from top to bottom order, as soon as they are off cooldown. A smarter ghost will wait until there is someone they can actually hit with their powers, and perhaps, they will hit multiple people with AoE powers first.

Some powers have more effects than just scaring people! For example, Cogjammer can destroy machinery. This comes in handy, as this poor witch ghost named Weatherwitch has been trapped in a vacuum cleaner.

Ghosts you free on missions will join your team! This will not only virtually increase their roster on the current missions, but will increase your total roster too! Nice!

Some ghosts like Boo use any inside room as a fetter. These ghosts tend to be weaker than more specialized ghosts, but they do have ways to manipulate mortals. For example, Rattle Chains wakes up sleeping people, and will attract a selection of folks from all over the building.

These are the main mechanics, but there are a ton of more options, like Orders, which allows you to tell a ghost to only attack one specific power, or only use abilities when people are present.

You can also look through the POV of mortals and ghosts, to see what they see! For example, the sleeping people see this sheep.

Once enough people ran away, the music kicks into high gear, signalling your imminent victory!

Running into the night...

At the end you will be scored based on how spooky you were, and your total time. This is turned into gold plasm, provided you have played the level for the first time, or you have beaten a previous record of yours. Here you can see that I have done a better job in an earlier playthrough....

Quite a lot of the levels are "Scare Everyone Away" based. For example, Weird Scéance is about being given an opportunity to scare away a bunch of arrogant frat boys (implied to be medical students who steal organs from their university for fun) due to three nerds trying to summon ghosts to bring revenge on them.

They know what you did, Obi Wan' Shinobi...

Other levels include the Calamytiville Horror, where a family bought a giant house, with many rooms! They do not know but it also has many skeletons. Your job here is to solve puzzles and reveal them, and maybe, free their previous owners too.

And there is also a level based on Evil Dead, where a bunch of university students try to take over the world by summoning a demon. The demon will eat their soul at the end of the level, which is really not in tone with the rest of the game, but the official strategy guide claims this is okay, completely evil humans are fair game (everyone else can only be scared, and nothing more. And somehow, being driven mad is also okay???)

Later levels will have opposition trying to thwart your plans. For example, the GHOST BREAKERS will set up astral wards that will prevent your haunters from directly being placed inside. Of course, there are sneaky ways to infiltrate... if you can avoid their ghost banishing guns! You might also meet mediums, witches, and even a priest.

All in all, I love this game, but this would not be a proper Review Journey had I not told you about some of the negatives.

The puzzles can be really ornery and annoying in some cases. And sometimes, depending on the team, unsolvable! When you figure out the solution, you might have to restart the level to bring a ghost that can actually finish it. Most puzzles have alternate ways to solve them, but still, this is very annoying.

Performance, even with the new complete edition mod can be an issue. The game does not support multithreading, meaning if you have several smaller cores in your CPU, the game might run WORSE than 20 years ago. If you have a high end graphics card, and a low end integrated card, your computer might decided "The low end will be enough :)", and you will have to override this manually.

The game is rather dated in some gameplay desing aspects, mainly when you have to wait to get mortals do a specific event. There is also content that I am iffy about. Some examples of these few things: There is a native chief ghost, probably as a reference on the trope of an "house built on an ancient native burial ground". He was killed by settlers and later they built a shed on his grave. There is also a japanese earth elemental, the spirit of bonsai trees, and I don't really like his extremely accented speech. A level features insane asylum inmates, trapped in an evil asylum slash occult lab, whose descriptions I really don't like.

The game is also a shadow it could have been, mainly due to the meddling of the publisher, and some disastrous issues during development. Money ran out quickly as entire engines had to be remade, so about two thirds of the planned game was cut and gone. This meant, several plot lines don't have a proper resolution. What happened to the mafia men that only appear for one level in the final game? We will never know (until the Completed Edition team finishes importing new levels that is).

The game also ends in a sour note. As the studio was closing down, they quickly put together a final mission to bring closure, where you reprise a rather ornery puzzle to save all the ghosts in the town, after which, every single ghost ascends into the Light. Even the soul eating evil demon?

Anyways, warts and all. This is a truly unique game. I have not seen any other game where your task is to place down a squad of autonomous agents, with a list of commands, and let them do as you command. There is no other game where you are a middle manager of chaos. This is the sole game, where you are a civil engineer bureaucrat, who while surveying a realm with a clipboard does not say "We need another lamppost here to light up the area.", instead you say "Hmm. This area would be perfect for more spiders."

If you made it this far, I hope you have become fascinated enough to try out the game!

Thanks for reading! Happy Halloween, and to all a good fight!

#ghost master #spiders #halloween

12 notes · View notes

all-hail-the-crows · 1 year ago

Text

Gotcha

I wrote this like a year ago and I didn't like it back then...

M reader, y/n used, NSFW, 18+

Y/n ran through the darkness, cold grass nearly tripping him up as he tried to get to the hatch. It came into view, so close. Its welcoming maw was just meters away when the survivor felt an arm snake around his neck, pressing tightly around his throat. A knife cut into his cheek as the killer pressed his body against Y/n's, completely trapping him in his grasp.

"Flying off so quickly, birdie?" Ghostface rumbled from under his mask. "Stay a while sweetheart.” He spun Y/n around, still under his blade, and kicked the other man down to the ground. Chunks of rock and gravel bit into Y/n’s hand as he braced himself against the ground, scraping into his palms as he tried to drag himself backwards away from the advancing figure of Ghostface.

“Danny…” Y/n whimpered. The trial had gone by fairly quickly, and Y/n had managed to avoid the Ghostface so far, meaning he had no idea what the killer’s mindset was at this time. If the trial had gone well he could be so generous, caring even; but if the other survivors had given him a hard time…

“Oh sweet boy,” Danny’s voice went soft as he knelt over y/n, one knee right in front of his groin. He raised his knife again, trailing out down y/n’s cheek, the dull side of the metal gently caressing his skin. He flipped the blade around without warning and reached up with his other hand to grab ahold of y/n’s hair. The blade bit into y/n, cutting into his cheek just enough to cause a welling of warmth.

“Stay still puppy,” Ghostface ordered. “Relax.” He leaned in closer, knee pressing into y/n’s groin as he slowly released his hair. Y/n licked his lips, feeling his cock twitch under the other man’s touch. Danny reached up and pulled his mask away, revealing a thinly-stubbled, grinning face. Cold fire danced in his eyes as he leaned closer to y/n, hot breath brushing against his cheek as Danny licked a stripe up y/n’s cheek, mopping up the bit of spilled blood with slow intensity. The survivor let out a soft moan, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. He thrust his hips upwards, rutting against Danny's leg, gasping again as the much needed friction sent blood rushing to his length.

“Easy pretty bird,” Danny growled as he grabbed y/n’s hip. “Rutting without permission is very rude.” He placed his full weight on y/n, not heavy enough to pin the other man down, but between the position and the knife, it was enough to make it clear who was in charge.

Danny went back in to lick up the blood that had continued to well to the surface of y/n’s cheek, Danny's mouth continuing down his face with peppered kisses.

“You taste so good, sweetheart.” he whispered into y/n’s ear, sickly sweet words fading away as he continued working over the survivor’s skin and down his neck. Y/n squirmed under Danny’s touch, the tingling in his pants growing as his dick went fully erect.

Firm hands flew to y/n’s neck, choking the air out of y/n throat. Y/n gasped in a mix of fear and pleasure as he looked up into Danny’s cold eyes.

“I gave you a compliment puppy, what do you say?”

“Sorry sir…” Y/n choked out. “Thank you.”

"Good boy," the killer growled as he released his choke hold but kept a hand on Y/n's neck. He ran the other gloved hand down Y/n's chest, lifting his shirt and running a thumb over one of his nipples. Y/n whimpered, his cock beginning to feel uncomfortable as Danny continued to ignore Y/n's lower regions.

He ran his knife over Y/n's chest, the dull side of the tip grazing over his soft flesh. Y/n licked his lips in anticipation of the gentle sting as Danny turned his blade over, cutting a shallow stripe down Y/n’s stomach, just enough to draw blood.

“So pretty for me,” He breathed. Danny’s eyes glittered in the everlasting dusk, He ran the hand that had been holding Y/n’s neck down his body, his gloved fingers brushing into the blood that welled from Y/n’s newest cut. Danny met Y/n’s eyes as he licked the other man’s blood from his fingertips, his tongue and lips moving slow enough to make it painfully clear how much he was savoring this.

Y/n bit his bottom lip and swallowed hard. The pressure and heat in his lower belly was growing to be too much. He needed something to happen.

“Danny…” Y/n pleaded.

“Yes?” The killer purred, still caught up in playing with your leaking stomach wound, spreading the blood to make the cut look much worse than it was, licking Y/n’s blood up, tracing through it with such satisfaction in his eyes.

“Could you fuck me, please?” Danny looked up at Y/n again, the warmth melting from his eyes, replaced by something colder, more sadistic. Abandoning the cut on Y/n’s stomach, Danny raised his hands to Y/n’s chin, thumb brushing against the cut on his cheek with a controling firmness.

“Is that a request, or are you telling me?” Danny’s tone was joking, but there was something dangerous in his tone as a mean smile playing over his mouth. The hand that had been holding his knife came up to hold the other side of Y/n’s face as Danny moved up to straddle Y/n’s lower chest.

“I’m begging, Danny.” Y/n replied, his voice heavy as he felt his own cock twitch under the other man. “Please.” This seemed to satisfy the killer, who chuckled darkly and reached for his belt.

“Poor baby,” he crooned. “So needy for me you'd put up with anything I want to do to you, wouldn’t you?” He leaned down and breathed the last few words into Y/n’s ear, trailing hot breath and warm lips down his cheek bone.

“Yes, anything.” Y/n’s breath hitched at the admission.

“Good boy.” Danny moved closer to Y/n’s head, his cock finally free of his pants. “Since you’re such a little whore I know you’ll be all too grateful for this.”

Danny took hold of the back of Y/n’s hair, guiding him to stay close as Danny stood, placing Y/n into a kneeling position before him. Y/n took the killer into his mouth, sucking gently as the two of them settled into the position.

Y/n’s head was still held firmly in place as Danny began to move his hips to match the other’s motions. It slowly turned from Y/n sucking the other man off to Danny holding his head in place while he slammed his cock into Y/n’s mouth. Y/n felt himself sputter as Danny thrust himself down Y/n’s throat, barely acknowledging the person beneath him anymore. Y/n placed his hands on the other man’s thighs to brace himself against the forceful thrusts, feeling his gag reflex spasm every time the killer slid his cock down Y/n’s throat, deep enough to block airflow.

Y/n’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as Danny used his throat like a toy, moaning and choking around Danny, which only made the other man more enthusiastic and forceful in his movements.

Y/n felt the heat explode within him, the pleasure of being used by the other man pushing him over the edge of pleasure.

At last Danny stopped moving, letting his dick rest halfway into Y/n’s mouth, enough so that he could catch his breath. Y/n could feel the way Danny’s cock twitched and throbbed on his tongue, and looked up to meet the other man’s eyes.

“You look so good down there birdie,” the killer grinned. It was clear that he was trying to catch his own breath. Y/n felt warm droplets hit his welcoming tongue and begin to run slowly down Y/n’s throat as Danny removed himself from Y/n’s mouth. He stroked a gloved hand down Y/n’s face, running a thumb back over the cut that he had created. His glove came away with a pinprick of red, showing that the wound had almost healed.

“We can’t have that, now can we?” He sneered down at Y/n, his tone making it clear he wanted an answer.

“What is it sir?” Y/n asked, his eyes sliding past the man above him to the hatch. So close. Danny seemed to notice.

“You want to escape pretty bird?” He crooned gently, kneeling down in front of Y/n, holding his head so firmly it was almost painful. “You want to fly away in the middle of all the fun we’re having?”

Y/n swallowed hard, and nodded slightly. While Danny was wonderful to get fucked by in small doses, given time the murderer could get… quite creative. A scar on the survivor’s right shoulder was proof. The Ghostface didn’t seem put off by Y/n’s honesty however and instead gave a little chuckle.

“Alright sweetheart, how about this?” Danny held up his knife again, the steel tip glinting in the dim light. “I’ll give you five seconds to get there and through,” he nodded at the hatch. “If you don’t make it before I catch you, you’re going to sit still like a good boy while I make you all pretty, ok?” He stroked the knife across the other man’s cheek, opening the wound up again. Blood gushed in earnest now from Y/n’s cheek, drawing a whimper from his throat.

“That’s right, all that, just for me.” Danny said, his eyes lighting up with apparent joy at what he had just done. He stepped back without any warning, quick on his feet as always. “Quick now birdie! Five!”

Y/n scrambled to his feet, heart pounding, knees and hands damp from the grass. His heart was in his throat as he turned and bolted for the hatch as he heard the killer behind him, already giving chase even as it was only “Three”.

“Come on birdie, two! Faster! Faster! One!” Y/n felt hands graze him as he more fell than jumped into the hatch, embracing his escape. Danny voice faded away into the gloom as Y/n was returned to the campfire, but not before he heard the killer call out after him:

“Until next time, my pretty birdie. There will always be a next time.”

__________________

Wooo, that was a big one

Thank you for reading all the way here, pretty lit of you

#danny johnson #the ghostface #dbd killer #slasher x reader #degredation kink #kinktober #ghostface #slashers #danny johnson x reader #ghostface x reader

31 notes · View notes

g00d1uckch4rm · 4 months ago

Text

Chasing The Sun

Chapter 3: Drowning Fish

Summary/Info Rated M ____________________________________________________

-Introduction to Type Dynamics- (Continued…)

Type O Dynamic Also referred to as “Type O” or simply “O” Eighteen percent probability

They have a womb capable of carrying children and the function of one's gonads is the production of eggs, no matter the body appearance. Type O have a particular sense of smell and very rarely have a sexual drive outside of Estrus (See: ER Period). It is not unusual for one to build or be a part of a pack*, whether they are small tight-knit or large communities. To feel overly protective for the well-being of the group is completely normal for a Type O, whether this comes out as nurturing or aggressive.

Males that are Type O are the only ones with external differences, as they have visible dual sexes, but are only capable of reproduction through their womb. Making them the only Type Dynamic that can be identified before sexual maturity without invasive surgery. Taking blood samples is an option for all early Type Dynamic testing, but are not accurate before adolescence due to lack of certain hormones and thus are only viable for patients over the age of ten already showing signs of puberty.

[*An older term that is uncommonly used, but easier to understand in summary. (See: Packs)]

Type AB Dynamic Also referred to as “Type AB”, or simply “AB” / “OB”Four percent probability

The second variation of B, and the rarest of all Dynamics. People of this Type do not exhibit any physical characteristics of Type A, nor will they experience a Rut. They do however, have the same particular sense of smell. Otherwise, people of this Type are the same as B in the aspects of sexual reproduction.

Though as a personal preference some would rather use OB for their classification, but the definition is the same.

-Section one: End-

____________________________________________________

“Another coming up on the starboard in about six meters.” Usopp informed from his position, leaning further over the railing, as he tried to get a better view of the reef. Just in case he misjudged the distance, he would be ready to update the helmsman.

“Understood.” Jinbei adjusted their course and cast a glance to Sanji; whom was at the other end of the bow watching the port side. The blond gave a thumbs-up in response, indicating that his side was still clear. The trio had been at this for a few hours now without sails, relying on cola power to trudge along and avoid damaging the hull.

While the next island was within sight, it was still fairly far off with the pace of their heading. Earlier, they hadn’t even noticed the speck of an island in the distance before they had run aground, and the sudden collision set everything lurching foreword. It certainly was surprising to find a coral reef this far out in what was expected to be open water. Though, after Jinbei did a quick underwater investigation, he let the crew know of what was to come. This was a mountain of coral, easily over two hundred feet tall, but there was far more in the distance.

Sure enough, the closer they got to the island, the denser the reefs were. They also got brighter with colour, making them easier to spot at a distance, while leaving the ocean looking more and more like an opal. It was quite the sight.

Jinbei, however, at this moment felt that a certain matter had become long overdue and he has grown tired of waiting on the crew. “If there is something else weighing on your mind, then say it.”

Usopp flinched, “w-what do you mean?” while Sanji pretended not to hear.

The fishman gave them each a firm look. “Both of you have grown uneasy after having to work on this task with me. And it is certainly not the first time I have noticed.” Though, they weren’t the only ones. It wasn’t even a week into living with the crew when the excitement had begun to fade. Recently, most of the crew either stiffened up or trailed into nervous banter from his presence. Especially when one on one.

He understood that time was needed for everyone to adjust, and build honest trust. Jinbei, himself included. But he was worried that if this carried out for too long, it will cause more harm than good.

Usopp immediately looked guilty and panicked a bit. “Wait! It’s not what you think! I-I'm not scared of you or anything. I just-,” he groaned and held his face in shame. “Sorry, I don’t mean to come off that way.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll break the silence.” Sanji began calmly and even if he still felt unsure, he made eye contact with Jinbei none the less. “While I can’t speak for the others. There has been something I’ve been... curious about for some time, but I didn’t want to come off as offensive.”

Though, the slight pause in their words gave Jinbei the impression that the cook had decided to avoid the true question. Or, perhaps, choose another that would be suitable cover up for their behaviour. For now, at least. As years of experience, and the simple fact that he wanted to make things work between them all, Jinbei told himself to go along with it. “Something to do with being a fishman, I take it?”

“Ya. Still want me to say it or do you want me to keep it to myself?” While he offered the choice, Usopp was looking at them with building anxiety over the worse case outcome of this conversation.

Jinbei sighed softly. “If you wish to ask, then do so.”

“You've said that you're a whale shark, but you look nothing like one.” Sanji said simply. “Unless, you’ve got hidden spots or something else I haven’t noticed.”

The fishman quirked a brow at him. That’s all? He hadn't known what to expect really, but it hadn’t been something so harmless as that. Jinbei answered with a bit of a puzzled tone. “I didn’t inherit any clear identifying markers. The only traits that designated me as a whale shark was my skin, and later in life, the found ability to talk with the animal.”

This tension, was it due to the crew wanting to get closer to him, to get to know him better? Did they become unsure with what they could say or do, simply because they were worried that they might upset him? Perhaps a mix of that and Jinbei’s own demeanour is what caused this whole misunderstanding. Jinbei was well aware of how he came off, even without trying or meaning too.

“Oh?” With the ease of receiving a reply and without Jinbei getting affronted about it. Sanji found himself a bit taken back, his posture became more comfortable and he sat down on the railing.

It sort of set off a chain reaction, as Usopp began to become a little intrigued. While still nervous, he looked for clarification. “So, like, you’ve got the same scales of a whale shark?”

Jinbei shook his head. “Fishmen don’t have scales, regardless of ancestral trait. Only merfolk have the possibility of scales.”

“Possibility?”

Sanji rolled his eyes and gave a brief chuckle. “Usopp, you do know that not all fish have scales, right?”

His response was to lightly scowl back at the cook for a moment; either he hadn’t or he forgot. But quickly returned his attention to Jinbei. “Well, if you don’t have scales or spots. What about your skin makes you a whale shark?”

“Its thickness,” he answered.

Sanji hummed in thought. “I see, that makes sense. Certain species of fish can have densities from a few inches to up to a foot.”

“But that exact comparison doesn’t carry over into fishfolk. My skin can be a little over an inch thick in some places, mainly around my core.”

“Does your skin still feel like a shark’s though?” Came Sanji’s next inquiry. Sure, he had fought quite a number of fishmen in the past, but in the heat of battle it’s hard to recall small things like that.

Jinbei said nothing as he took a hand off the helm and held it out towards the man. There was a moment of pause before Sanji got up and approached to take their hand, like one would a handshake. His eyes quickly widened in slight surprise. Sanji began to investigate, carefully grasping at different points. Feeling the muscle, bone and even the webbing of Jinbei’s fingers.

“Huh, well how about that.” Sanji said as he withdrew.

But the vague response only made Usopp more eager for an answer and hastily approached. “Could I also feel it?”

Swapping out hands on the helm, Jinbei offered to him as well. “You may.”

Usopp was a bit more childlike in his examination, becoming bolder the more fascinated he got. Flipping their hand over and back, prodding at fingernails and splaying the webbing. All the while, Jinbei focused on his task of steering and didn’t seem the least bit bothered by any of it. Usopp even went over their wrist and a bit up Jinbei’s forearm before he was finished.

“Woah, that was really unexpected.” Usopp looked to his own hands, pinching at the bridge of skin between the thumb and palm. “But you don’t feel any different than us.”

At that moment the ship suddenly lurched and lifted, accompanied by a heavy groan with hollowed crunching. Rubber arms quickly wrapping around the lion’s mane gave the trio some relief that at least the captain hadn’t been thrown off.

“Shit!” Sanji cursed as he scrambled back to his post and Usopp did the same.

The ship quickly veered off course, harshly jostling everything and everyone on board once more. Usopp shouted apologies across the ship as the three worked together to make sure Sunny was back on a safe rout.

Popping his head up between the mane not a moment later, Luffy laughed at them. “You hit another reef.”

“Ya, I think we know that! But you could have at least warned us!” Usopp yelled.

“I was sleeping.” He explained innocently and untangled his arms to lounge in the crook of the figurehead.

“Please, don’t do that up there.” Jinbei sighed. “It is an unpleasant thought that you could roll off and drown.”

Luffy chuckled with his usual carefree grin. “I won’t.”

“Says the guy that one of us has to fish out of the ocean once a week.” Sanji reproached.

Usopp gave Jinbei a bit of an envious look. “Must be nice not to have to worry about that sort of thing.”

“Hm?” The fishman’s expression was puzzled for a second before he shook his head with great seriousness. “I am concerned about our captain’s safety just as much as the rest of the crew.”

“No, I mean about drowning in general.” Usopp clarified as he checked for reefs, making sure to stay on top of it this time while they chat. “Fishfolk can breathe in water after all.”

“Ah. I have not experienced it, but I am mindful of it under the circumstances.”

“Huh?” Usopp wasn’t sure he understood that correctly. “Wait, you mean you can drown?”

“Yes, though, it may not be in the same way. For merfolk, it is technically classified as gill particle-suffocation, but is commonly referred to as dust-drowning.”

The three humans quirked their heads and express various looks of confusion. Though Luffy was the first to ask. “How does that work?”

“Similar to the typical understanding of drowning I would imagine. Only instead of water, it’s fine powder like substances and rather than getting into your lungs, it coats your gills.” Jinbei started to explain.

Sanji countered. “You don’t breathe on land through your gills, do you? And wouldn’t breathing through your lungs solve the problem till you found water to clean it out?”

“Yes and no, it depends on your gill type. Though one should never just submerge any fishfolk suffering the effects. But, for example, if my gills are engaged; affected by dust and unable to expel the debris, my lungs won’t open even if I try to force it. Almost like choking, I would suffocate.” And then he shrugged. “Though, I don’t really know much about it from a medical stand point, I just know how it can happen and how to resuscitate someone if need be.”

Sanji hummed as he tried to picture CPR, and with a bucket of water at the ready, but he didn’t know where else to go with it. “How does one save fishfolk from this if you can’t go straight to dunking them in water?”

“To begin with, know that water needs to be taken in through the mouth and passed out the gills. This is crucial, because if water is brought through the gills first with regular breaths, whatever is coating them will be pulled in further and damage or block smaller, more delicate parts of the gills. This can quickly lead to death.” Jinbei warned them with a harsh look. There was so much that could go horribly wrong if done incorrectly.

“If the person happens to still be conscious and calm enough, offer to have them take in water themselves. Provide plenty of water, but controlled in small amounts, like with a cup. The recovery will always go much faster and easier on the person if they can do it.

“The first step; after you have confirmed that they are not breathing due to something in their gills, is always check for gill openings. Not all gill types are external. If you can find them on the body, make sure the area around it is clear, but do not try to stick your fingers inside and remove anything you may see. It will cause more harm than good.”

Usopp raised his hand at this. “Wait, how would you tell if fishfolk have stopped breathing from other reasons or if they’re suffering from dust-drowning? I imagine going straight to water might lead to actual drowning.”

“A good question. It is not always simple, but gill tissue will often be visibly pale, likely even dry, and one’s operculum will flap erratically for the first few minutes. Those without operculums will still have some movement in their around their gill openings, but it can be harder to notice.”

And before Usopp could even ask what Jinbei was talking about, Sanji interjected with clarification. “An operculum is the bony cover over the gills of most fish.” He also humoured Usopp with a demonstration of his hands rotating at either side of his jaw, in the way most children do when pretending to be fish.

“Right.” Jinbei confirmed. “But, as for the concern over water in the lungs. For fishfolk, this isn’t something to worry too much about, as lungs and gills are linked in one way or another. There are even some cases where fishfolk use their lungs to pump water over their gills. So, I don’t think it's possible for fishfolk to actually drown due to water. Or at least, not that I’ve ever heard of. Not that I would recommend always choosing a water resuscitation.”

“How does someone not drown with water in their lungs? Isn’t that the whole problem with drowning? And then, why is water fine in your lungs, but air isn’t in your gills?”

The fishman was starting to become a little exasperated with this conversation. He gave a slight grumble as he answered, “I’ll be honest, Usopp. I don’t know, not my field of expertise.”

“Fair.”

Usopp and Sanji would get some answers later from Chopper. The doctor was able to explain in simple terms that it isn’t technically the water or other fluids inside the lungs that is the sole cause of drowning. The lack of oxygen comes into play as well, and water simply has too little for a body that needs high demands of it. While Chopper was confident that in theory it would be scientifically possible to create an oxygen rich liquid that people could breathe in. He does not recommend trying it.

Returning to where he left off, “So, this is where the repetition begins, water needs to be forced through the mouth and out the gills. However,” Jinbei paused in thought. This step required someone with the abilities to manipulate water, much like one does to perform fishman karate. “I think humans would need some source of running water, something with a bit of pressure even. Or maybe a pump of some sort?”

Both Sanji and Usopp expressed various forms of concern at this vital point. Though, Usopp was the first to vocalize it. “This sounds like a project for Chopper and Franky.”

“Agreed,” said Sanji. “But, carry on.”

“Very well. The cycle of water out the gills is followed with chest compressions. I believe this is the part that is most similar to when humans drown. Do this till the debris is expelled enough that they can switch to air, you’ll know then that it is safe for them to be submerged. The remains will be washed away with regular intakes, but it is always best to keep an eye on them for the first few hours. Just in case they need a doctor.”

“Hey, Jinbei.” Luffy piped up. “When’s your birthday?”

“Huh!?” Usopp was flabbergasted at just how random the question was. And right during something important and serious, too. Yet the captain, again, probably stopped paying attention at some point.

“Seriously, Luffy?”

“Well, ya. Why would I joke about this?” He scowled a little.

While Jinbei was taken off guard, he gave an answer anyways. What a way to change the topic. “April second.”

“Really!? YES!!”

Foreseeing the outcome, Sanji groaned, “for crying out loud,” and set his eyes on the ocean. He wasn’t going to make eye contact with the captain as they burst into high energy.

“This means a three-day long party in April! Sanji!” He rushed over to their cook and excitedly started pestering him about preparations. “Sanji! We’re going to need three awesome breakfasts, three super lunchboxes, three epic dinners! Oh, oh, and three-!”

“Yes, yes, I know!” Sanji cut him off, still refusing to look at him and held Luffy back with his foot. “You don’t need to repeat everything.”

With Sanji busy handling Luffy, Jinbei turned to Usopp. “Why specifically three days?”

The young man couldn’t help but smile, it was kinda funny how it all lined up. No one else on the crew was anywhere near as close together. “Because, I’m April first and Brook is April third.”

“Ah.” That makes sense, although, he didn’t feel there was a need to celebrate his birthday.

“How old are you currently?”

“Forty-six.”

Luffy spun around quickly, still all smiles and likely thinking of a bigger cake. “You’re an old man? I thought you were younger than that.”

“I'm not an old man!” Jinbei snapped, but all Luffy did was laugh. “While you humans are lucky to live a hundred years, I’ll be just reaching my midlife.”

“So, with that logic,” Sanji commented, “you’re, what? Mid-twenties, then?”

“As in... physically? Compared to humans?” Honestly, he didn’t know what the right answer to that was. Some fishfolk grew so fast in comparison to others, the giant merfolk especially. “Possibly?”

“Oh!” Luffy jumped on Jinbei, grabbing his face, almost pinching his cheekbones. “So that’s why your eyes are similar to Torao’s!”

“And then there’s Luffy’s logic...” Usopp rolled his eyes.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

“Any volunteers?” Nami calls out as she makes her way up to the helm, counting out Beri into sorted piles as the crew gathers.

A port town had been spotted from the crow's nest, just beyond the forest on another shoreline, an hour’s walk most likely. It was the first island to have a large economy and some of the crew were looking to take advantage of the opportunity. The last few had been in low population, quaint towns and villages, but not abundant in resources. “Or are we going to draw straws this time?”

“I’ll remain here.” Jinbei responds without missing a beat, which earns him a number of looks. He knows what a few will say and the fishman is quick to insist. “There isn’t anything that I need in particular and I do not mind guarding the ship.”

“But you’ve stayed behind all the other times.” Usopp countered before jutting a thumb at the swordsman. “Let’s get Zoro to watch the Sunny this time. He’s likely to nap the whole time we’re gone anyways.”

Annoyed, the man in question scowled as he spoke. “I’ve got training to catch up on, so fine. I’ll stay. I don’t care either way.” Though, Chopper was immediately reminding Zoro to keep it within the limits. The last of the crew’s bandages may have come off, but that didn’t mean they were fully recovered.

“See? Works out perfectly.” The sniper grinned; at first, but his expression fell into a mix of fear and uncertainty in response to Jinbei’s reaction. On top of Jinbei’s usual stern look, he seemed greatly irritated and even gave a huff as he looked away from Zoro.

Is he mad!? I made things worse again, didn’t I? Usopp fretted. Did he just want to be left alone? Shoot, shoot! I was just trying to help, and to make things fair!

But, as much as Usopp; or any of the crew, wanted to understand their new teammate. Jinbei was just simply hard to read. Getting past anything work related or day-to-day living situations was like stepping on the man’s toes. It was like Jinbei was almost always in two constant moods, serious or annoyed. Work or leave me alone. “Regardless, I will remain here.”

“What gives, Jinbei?” Luffy approached after receiving his allowance for the trip, stuffing the money in his pocket. “You haven’t set foot on land since Wano. I get that you’re a fishman and my helmsman, but that doesn’t mean you're always stuck with watching Sunny.”

“I understand that, I am choosing to do this.”

“But what if we need you?”

“We have den-den-mushi for communication. I will come without hesitation should any of the crew call for aid.”

“But-”

“Luffy,” Jinbei cut off his captain this time, “unless it is required, there is no sense in me going inland.” And while Luffy pouted about it, he didn’t say anything more and walked away.

Usopp tried to counter his friend’s mood, being supportive and also standing up for his crewmate. “Come on, Luffy. We can go on an adventure instead! I mean, maybe Jinbei just wants to relax.”

However, Nami came up to Jinbei right after and pulled his palm upright. “Here.” She then forced a bundle of bills into his hand. “This is yours; with a little welcome bonus, for whatever you need to finish settling in.”

“I don’t-”

“And this,” she added another, smaller bundle, and gave him a slightly evil grin as she whispered, “is babysitting money.”

“Babysitting?” The word hardly left his mouth before he felt something suddenly wrap around him. In the next second he heard; the start of Luffy yelling Gum-gum-, a distortion of shouting and laughter. Followed by being launched over the main mast at blinding speed.

Cupping her hands around her mouth, Nami shouted after them. “Keep him out of trouble and I’ll double it!!”

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

I don’t like this.

Luffy was practically jumping with joy as they passed the town gate and he made a bee-line to the first food-stall.

Jinbei, on the other hand, was quite bitter as he entered. Inspecting what he could see from the gate; a modest residential area still showing signs of the forest, stretching for a while before becoming denser with buildings and more bustling crowds.

Troublesome and pointless. He then huffed and chose to take his time in following after the captain.

When Jinbei reached Luffy, he had already paid and eaten. Granted it took longer for him to pick and pay, than it did to devour the food. “That was tasty!” He sighed in content before smiling up at the fishman. “You got to try it!”

At the prospect of another customer, the stall-keep looked up from their work with a friendly smile. At first. Before flinching in surprise, and while they tried to hold the smile, it was clear that they were greatly off-put.

It did not go unnoticed, even though Jinbei only caught it out of the corner of his eye. Troublesome. “I think I’ll pass.” He said with a flat tone and kept on walking.

“Aw, how come?” Luffy hurried to his side. Though after a beat of silence, he tried to catch his friend’s gaze and failed. “Are you mad about the landing?” It certainly hadn’t been his best, even with using his balloon skill and the landing had roughed them up a little. Luffy was still sporting leaves and twigs from the band of his hat like a kid.

“No.”

“Mad about-?”

“I’m not mad, Captain.”

And he didn’t believe that one bit. Luffy could tell he was prickly, irritated, more so since they left the ship. “Then what?”

“I just,” The further they walked, the more people there was on the street. Every which way Jinbei looked there was; a visible pause, a double take, a stricken expression, a fixed gaze, a disdainful eye. Pointless. “don’t like shopping.”

Luffy gave a brief hum in response as he gave the street a quick scan. “Want to get clothing and stuff out of the way first then?”

“Fine,” he answered with a short sigh.

“Alright!” With a mischievous grin Luffy snatched Jinbei’s hand and proceeded to drag the larger man along as he practically skipped down the street.

“Agh, Luffy!” He stumbled at first from the sudden shift, before he had to run just to keep up with Luffy’s pace. “Slow down!”

His captain only laughed as he tightened his grip, but not so much that Jinbei would have to put effort in escaping. Just... strong.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

Jinbei was really starting to believe that Nami wasn’t joking, about the whole babysitting thing. Keeping Luffy out of trouble was never easy, but this... all of this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

After finding a clothing shop that Luffy deemed ‘Franky style’ and while it was certainly a little odd, he wouldn’t go as far to compare it to the cyborg himself. Most of it was bright, colourful and patterned; that part was fine. But Jinbei didn’t have much interest in common; the shirt and pants kind, casual wear. Though Luffy wasn’t letting them leave till Jinbei bought a few things.

All the while, the clerk eyed Jinbei; as he expected, but he paid them no mind. That is, till Luffy started drawing in a lot of attention. Dashing in and out of clothing racks; sometimes wearing something ‘cool’ he found, other times holding something ‘awesome’ for Jinbei or another crewmate. And because he wouldn’t stop rambling on about disguises and sneaking into places. Leaving Jinbei pick something just to shut him up and get out. Before any form of law enforcement was called on them.

Just as he was planning on placing the money on the counter and leaving. They could keep the change. The clerk; seeing them coming up in a hurry, panicked and rushed to get the cash-drawer on the counter. Which made the pair of pirates pause.

“H-have a great day!” They tried to say with a smile, but it was easy to see that they were nervous and frightened.

Jinbei knew where this was coming from and Luffy’s chatter hadn’t helped matters. They thought that they were being robbed. Though, before Jinbei was able to respond any further than a frown, Luffy burst out laughing.

“That’s not how this works!” He then nudged the man next to him, as if he hadn’t seen what happened. “Hey, Jinbei! This idiot is trying to pay us for their clothes!” And while Luffy laughed harder, the clerk only looked more terrified.

“No, Luffy. That’s not what-” Jinbei tried to interject.

But Luffy wasn’t listening, he quickly pulled out his own money and counted a few bills. “Here, look, I’ll show you. I...” He then grabbed the clerk’s arm to bring their hand up, much to their further terror. “pay you...” Placed the money in their hand. “for the stuff in your shop.” And then, he let them go and smiled with pride. “That’s how shopping works.”

“Uh...” Was all the; now bewildered, clerk could say in response.

The situation had gone from uncomfortable to just down right weird. Not sure what to say, Jinbei could only correct Luffy’s math. “Actually... you’re short.” Adding another bill to the clerk’s out stretched hand.

“Huh?! No!” Yet, he still quickly started counting with his fingers. Then, “oh,” he realized that he had given too little.

Jinbei sighed and took a paper bag to carry the clothing in, then proceeded to walk out of the shop. “Come along, before you embarrass yourself further.”

“Oi!” Luffy was quickly on his heels. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!?”

For the times to follow, Jinbei put more effort into keeping his presence as low as he could. Regardless of how impossible it seemed and how difficult Luffy made it for him. If Luffy saw a shop he wanted to check out, Jinbei would wait outside. Sometimes just around the corner, other times in between buildings. But every time Luffy exited, he would call out to Jinbei or wave at him, or both.

However, one time in particular, someone was unable to hold their tongue. While Jinbei didn’t hear what had been said to set Luffy off, he caught the moment his captain switched from cheerful to pissed. Leaving Jinbei to step in or have a swarm of unwanted attention from a brawl breaking out in front of a supply store. With there being no sense in talking Luffy out of it, he simply threw the young man over his shoulder and walked away. Luffy still continued to shout and even threw jars of paint out of his bag of purchased goods at the other person for added measure, colouring them in splashes of green and purple.

Even when the person was out of sight. “Jerk.” Was all Luffy would grumble over and over again, but he didn’t try to break free. This continued for some time, even after Jinbei set him back on his own feet when he was confident that the younger man wouldn’t bolt off to find the person and finish the fight. It took a little longer, and for the fishman to buy a snack; much to the stall-tender’s horror, for the young man’s mood to finally start turning around.

“I can’t believe you paid for free food.” Luffy spoke with mild irritation as he chewed. It was a local specialty of coral fish and island flora roasted on a skewer. He had about twenty of them bunched up in one hand like a bouquet.

“It wasn’t free.” Jinbei couldn’t believe that he had to be blunt about this to Luffy. “They just wanted out of the situation as quickly and easily as possible. They were only concerned for their own safety.”

“Why’s that?”

Jinbei muttered under his breath as he looked anywhere, but at Luffy. “I’ll give you three guesses.” It wasn’t said with a hateful tone, not even out of annoyance, just disappointment.

They stumbled upon a nice spot just a little ways from the market. A grand plaza, centred with a large fountain with gardens and grass areas around it. This place also seemed to be situated on a small cliff, with decorative railing overlooking the harbour and the district below. Though, easily accessible with pathways on either side.

While no place in this town was truly quiet, here was a different kind of busy. Only a few small groups or pairs took up spots in patches of grass or on stone benches, while kids played games across the cobblestone. It appeared most were here for lunch.

“Wanna take a break for a bit?” Luffy suggested.

“Fine by me.”

Jinbei picked a bench that was off to the side, one others wouldn’t have to try and awkwardly avoid. Luffy didn’t seem to care and flopped down next to Jinbei, dropping his bag at his feet as he continued to enjoy his food. Yet, even after a few moments of silence, Jinbei still wasn’t able to become comfortable and was about to relocate.

Something Luffy must have picked up on or just had uncanny timing.

“Here.” He held out a skewer and before Jinbei could begin to politely refuse. “Come on, just try it.”

Half expecting some sort of trick, Jinbei hesitantly took the offering. He even waited a second to see if Luffy would snatch it back, but the young man just moved on to the next one in hand. So, Jinbei took a bite.

Luffy grinned as he watched. “Pretty good, huh?”

“Mm-hm.” He hummed softly as he savoured the tender meats and well-seasoned vegetables. Turns out he had been hungrier than expected, not that he should be surprised since he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. “Thank you,” he said and took his time eating the rest.

However, Luffy was quick to hold out another once he was finished and this time Jinbei smiled a little. Even if he didn’t understand why, the gesture was appreciated.

As they ate in silence. Everything was starting to feel a little lighter, a little less tense and restricted. Jinbei felt comfortable enough to relax, a bit at least. “So, why the paint?”

“Hm?” Luffy responded with a mouth full of food, glancing up at his friend in confusion before looking at the bag next to his feet. Quickly swallowing before speaking, he answered. “Oh this stuff? It’s for Usopp. I spilled some of his by accident, and he said he wouldn’t paint me more flags till I bought him more.”

“Spares for the ship?”

He shook his head with a serious look on his face as he finished off the last of the skewers. “No, for marking my territory.”

Jinbei chuckled lightly in response, because there really was no need for that. Every island that Luffy claimed put up Straw-Hat flags of their own choosing. Some even did so just from being visited or from what they learned about him through news and rumours. Not so much out of ownership or submission, but one out of unification and support. “Of course, of course.”

The peaceful life of the plaza hadn’t changed.

No sudden shift in the atmosphere.

No sudden noise.

Nothing at all that could come off as unusual.

Yet, Jinbei felt the snap. A faint; though sharp and lightning fast, feeling pushed past him like a wave. Observation Haki. Had he not been so close to the source, he wouldn’t have noticed with his own. To feel the aura brush up against him like a bristling animal. It had the fishman flinching in alarm.

His captain was looking for something. Someone. Silent rage clear on his face. It hadn’t even been a second more, before Luffy bolted. Startling the people in the area as he hollered, tearing across the plaza and jumping over the guardrail to the harbour below. “Tama!”

“Luffy! Hold on!” Jinbei quickly grabbed their things and gave chase going the long way around. Though people were quick to get out of the fishman’s way, saving him the time of dodging those in his path. As he entered the harbour district, he rushed for the back alleyways, Jinbei only knew he was going the right direction from Luffy continuously calling out the little girl’s name. Which only added to his confusion. While he didn’t want to doubt Luffy, how did he know it was her? Did she call his name? Did he catch a glimpse of her? Perhaps not, Luffy was reacting aggressively rather than out of surprise.

A loud smashing of wood, followed by angry shouting was heard not far off. Luffy had started a fight.

One that he had finished within moments, as Luffy gave one last punch to someone just as Jinbei rounded the corner. Adding to the others unconscious on the cobblestone alley. All of them appeared to be women; six in total and five were out. They weren’t dressed in any sort of fashion that would draw much attention, like ordinary civilians. There also didn’t seem to be anything suspicious in the alleyway. A few crates and barrels behind buildings that were likely some sort of trade post or cargo transport. However, despite how this all looked, Jinbei had a good feeling that these people were anything other than ordinary townsfolk.

The last one was cowering with their back against a wall and had a knife pointed at Luffy. “Who the fuck are you!? You didn’t hesitate and you weren’t listed. So, either you’re trying to cash-in on our hard work or a merc!” The captain would have finished her off in a flash, if a scratching sound hadn’t drawn in his attention. Undeterred, Luffy turned his back to her and began to tear the sealed lids off the barrels nearby, one by one.

“Captain,” Jinbei called out as he calmly approached the situation. Also ignoring the woman as she turns the knife on him in renewed wariness. “Care to fill me in on the details?”

Though, Luffy just kept going without responding. Some held fish, others crabs or lobster and the odd one was empty. It wasn’t making any sense to Jinbei, but when he noticed that the woman was trying to sneak away. He fixed her with a hard look, “that would be an unwise decision,” and she froze.

It seems she had chosen to attempt it now for a reason. For as Jinbei’s focus shifted, the barrel that Luffy just opened, caught the man a little bit by surprise. “Eh?” Revealing two sets of frightened eyes staring up at him. “You’re not Tama.”

A child popped up quickly, grabbing desperately onto Luffy’s shirt with trembling hands. A little girl with long, wavy, brown hair. Littered with fresh scrapes and bruises, a particularly nasty one next to her left eye. Her dress had patches of dirt and grass stains. The other child was a boy and looked to be younger. He was also injured, a head wound that had left blood drying down the side of his face and on his clothes.

“Please.” The girl’s voice wavered, frightened and unsure. “Help us.”

After witnessing such a sight, Jinbei had a pretty good guess at what these women were doing. And the appearances were starting to make sense. Hardly anyone would have noticed that something was wrong. Even children were likely to be less cautious. As people tended to take notice if a man were to approach a child, no matter how he looked. Most wouldn’t even think that they might be a family member or a friend.

Because kidnapper; more often than not, was criminally portrayed as a man.

“You’re not going to get away with stealing our cargo.” The woman spat at them. A bad move for her, reminding them of her presence. “The boss has been running this market for much longer. Unlike the failure, Joker, they’ll be sure to take something from you of greater value and make you suffer.”

The captain didn’t say anything at first and just lifted the children out of the barrel one at a time. There wasn’t any need for clarification, simply saying market and Joker was plenty. “Monkey D. Luffy.”

“Huh?”

“Who I am. You wanted to know, right?” Luffy explained eerily calm and didn’t even look at her. “So, pass this on to your boss as well. I will be King of the Pirates. And the Straw-Hat Pirates,”

In the brief pause Jinbei stepped forward.

“hate slavers.”

Only to deliver a knockout blow.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

It wasn’t intentional, it just sort of stood out as Luffy pulled the rope tight. A beige bundle of paper was poking out from a jacket that one of them was wearing. So, he pulled it free and quickly recognized it from his time spent with Chopper. A file.

Flipping the wrinkled cover, he saw a profile of a little kid clipped to the first page.

Luffy then glanced to the two kids huddled together nearby. The girl fidgeted nervously, likely having doubts about getting help from them, with now knowing they’re pirates. She even looked ready to bolt, till her eyes met Luffy’s and she stills. Noticing what the young man held, she fearfully looked to the boy clinging to her arm and pulled him in close. Either trying to hide or protect him, but only making it obvious who's file it was.

Returning to the file in hand, Luffy half-heartedly skimmed the page. It had pretty typical stuff, name, age, sex, blood type, parents and occupations, contact info, address, and a whole bunch of doctor stuff Luffy didn’t even bother understanding. But there was something in the notes that caught his eye. Their dynamic was listed, Type O. “Hm.”

“-right.” Chopper’s voice over the Den-den-mushi alerted Luffy of Jinbei’s return. “I’ll wait for you here.” Hanging up, Jinbei then slipped it back into the front of his yakata.

“Chopper is waiting for us at the old bell tower beyond the market.” He informed as he looked down at his captain, only to pause and quirk an eyebrow at what he was doing. The unconscious women had been bound to what looked to be a broken mast. Luffy likely spotted it somewhere towards the docks. But it was the bundle of paper in his hands that had the fishman curious. “Find something?”

“Nah, not really.” Luffy replied with indifference and stuffed the file back into the jacket he found it in. “I’m just about finished with this.” He then picked up a barrel lid he had been messing with before, while Jinbei had stepped aside to contact the others. Luffy then tied it to the end of the post and he asked while smiling in satisfaction. “Think you could set this up in the market on our way there?”

Luffy had used the paint and a barrel lid to make a; poorly made, mind you, make-shift sign. Written in sloppy letters, it read: Got caught stealn’ and selln’ kids.

Honestly, Jinbei couldn’t help but grimace a little. It wasn’t that the task would be difficult or that he had an issue with the shaming. Criminals or not. It was the fact that he could clearly picture the reaction of the townsfolk as he himself paraded through the streets with this in hand. “I could...” He began slowly.

“Great!” Luffy then scooped up their bags and zipped over to the kids in one fluid motion before Jinbei could finish, making both of them flinch. “Not-Tama, you’re with me!”

“Huh!?” She voiced in surprise as the young man easily plucked her from the hold she had on the other child and swung her onto his back. Immediately, she bit him, on the ear no less, and she pulled on it hard.

“Ow ow, owowow!” He cries out in pain, but doesn’t let her go. “What are you doing!? That hurts!!”

Startled that his ear stretched far more than possible, she ended up letting go, but then started yelling and squirming. “Put me down, put me down!”

“No way. You're just going to slow us down with your injuries. And Chopper’s waiting.” Luffy grumbled defiantly as he rubbed his assaulted ear into his shoulder. Despite the girl’s struggling, he easily shifted the forced piggy-back to one arm and scooped up the little boy with ease. He seemed dazed and was slow to react. “Here, Jinbei. This one’s yours.”

“Eh?” Jinbei was taken back as the child was placed in his arms, though wasn’t left with much of a choice as Luffy quickly turned and ran down the alley. Leaving Jinbei to gather up the beam of captured criminals on one shoulder. All the while being careful not to jostle the injured boy.

“No! We’re not going anywhere with pirates!” Not-Tama fought even harder to escape. “Let us go!”

“But you asked me for help.”

“That was then, this is now! Just let us go, we’ll be fine on our own.”

The two of them continued on arguing while they got further and further away.

Jinbei sighed, it was not surprising that Luffy didn’t think to slow down, but it still annoyed him a little.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

As Chopper finished up the bandage, carefully pinning it in place, he smiled brighter. “There, all done. You did so well!” Though the praise didn’t bring the boy to respond, other than touching his forehead. But the doctor didn’t seem bothered by it and just kept on smiling.

“He’ll be okay, right?” The other child asked softly as she walked up to them. Chopper had tended to her injuries first, as Luffy was the first to arrive at the rendezvous. So, she had been nervously pacing close by while the tiny deer tended to her friend.

“Mm-hm.” He replied as he turned around. “The scalp-, the top of your head bleeds a lot even from small cuts, so it looked worse that it was. No stitches needed. Though it will be best for the parents to keep an eye on him, just in case signs of a concussion continue.”

“You mean he doesn’t have one?” Jinbei asked from where he was keeping an eye on the main street that led back to the market, and as well as acting like a bit of a wall. To keep prying eyes away and give the doctor a bit of privacy.

“No, I believe his silence and mild temperament is more from shock than anything.” His cheerful expression waning. “Afterall, an experience like... that is traumatic.”

During treatment, Chopper was able to get the little girl to tell them what had happened. They were from a small village not far from town and it was at the park that this had started. One of the women had approached the boy, stating that she was a friend from his mother’s work in town and that something had happened. Having been a little older, her intuition a bit better, she resisted and stood her ground with her friend, insisting they get her parents first.

What she thought made things better, only caused the situation to become drastic. None of which was the children’s fault. The woman hadn’t been alone and lured them in with a false sense of security of getting a trusted adult. Once away from the park, from other children, they were surrounded and then silenced when they struggled to run away.

The point in the story where Chopper believed Luffy became aware of their kidnapping, was when they awoke and tried to escaped the crate they had been smuggled into town with. Having been caught immediately, screaming and crying out for help, before being beaten into submission and sealed in a barrel.

Luffy stated that he hadn’t heard what was said, only that he faintly heard Tama’s voice and that she sounded like she was in trouble. Jinbei regrettably didn’t notice any distress, though no one else in the plaza did either. The children had been saved, practically on a whim, by a man that thought someone dear to them was in trouble. A frightening thought that hadn’t quite settled in.

“Hey, Not-Tama.” Luffy leaned in closer to the group. Having sat down on the other end of the old building’s steps, giving Chopper plenty of space to look after the children and keep a lazy lookout on the empty street behind them. The captain was acting rather bored during the whole thing, but that in itself was a good thing. If he wasn’t tense, there was nothing to fear within his area of perception, which was fairly large.

The girl puffed up in irritation and turned on him with renewed vigour. “Stop calling me that, I told you that’s not my name-!”

Luffy shrugged it off. “Ya, ya. So, you got a navy base here?” The question had both his crewmates raise a brow at him.

“No? I don’t think so.” She seemed to be confused over what he was asking. “I know the docks have lots of boats that come and go.”

He changed his question to be more straightforward “Who on this island handles the bad guys?”

She stared at him for a long moment, as if they were being asked a trick question and then answered. “We have patrollers, but I don’t know where to find any in town.”

“Patrollers?” Chopper echoed.

“Ya, strong members of the village that take turns making sure it stays safe.” She explained in a matter-of-fact way to Chopper, like he was younger than her. Though she was a little taller than him so it may have been more of a habit. “My auntie’s so strong that she even helps out here in town sometimes.”

“Traditional protection, huh.” Something both Chopper and Luffy were familiar with, having lived a number of years in a place that relied more on the local support than the navy. Dealing with a publicly formed guard was easier for them to work with, but in turn harder to locate.

~~~~~~ ҉ ~~~~~~

Finding the town guard didn’t prove to be very difficult, as it turns out they had been looking for them. Not for the kids in particular, not at first. But for the fishman that had planted the bound criminals in a marketplace flowerbed. Jinbei had picked it because it was the only open ground he came across on his way through, he didn’t want to cause more issues by smashing up the street and Luffy had asked for it to be set up so... that’s where he left them.

Jinbei had expected some sort of accusation or fight over it, seeing as a gang of humans sought him out personally and began asking questions. It wasn’t until they began to speak of the matter in great detail and even thank him for bringing the situation to light, did he realize that they were part of the guard.

Apparently, word had gotten around that a fishman had shown up and was acting extremely suspicious. Spending a lot of time surveying the area as they wondered town, frightening shops, and was also seen by many trying to sneak around. All of which Jinbei sighed at and repressed the urge to cover his face with his hands.

Though when one of them started to apologize to him, apparently for something they had said, Luffy was suddenly at his side. “Oi! You’re that jerk from earlier!”

Sure enough, there was still traces of paint in their hair and on their shoes. Cleaned up enough for most to not notice, but not enough for Luffy apparently. And before his captain got too riled up, Jinbei rested a hand on his head. “I’m sorry for the mess this one made.”

“But Jinbei-!”

“It’s fine, Luffy. It was a misunderstanding, I’m sure.” Whatever was said really didn’t matter. The less fights picked the better. While Luffy was still clearly upset about it, he didn’t press the subject any further and let it go.

With the matter of the children returning to safety settled, this strange day of shopping was over for Jinbei. The request to return to the ship was granted without any issue and he enjoyed the, relatively, peaceful walk through the forest on their way back to Sunny. The only trouble on the way back was Luffy was unable to find a cool bug to show Usopp.

____________________________________________________

<<–Previous Chapter-^-Next Chapter->>

#JinLu #one piece jinbei #one piece luffy #a/b/o verse #chasing the sun ff #mpreg #written work #fanfic #rated m #rated r

7 notes · View notes

queenoftiddies · 1 month ago

Text

And it was over.

We set down our weapons, all the Halloween themed cat paws. And as the boop-o-meter faded for the second time, maybe we were all a little closer. Strangers,Siblings, friends, and Moots, all had been brought together with the power of booping

#holy shiiiiiiit #tumblr boops #boops are back #or were #big boops #halloween boops #spooky boops #boops boops #boop o ween #boop o meter

5 notes · View notes

pyro-madder · 1 year ago

Text

Exejinkaverse Navi profiles - ACDC square

The people have spoken for one big post, here it is ! Remember to check this (also long) post for the basics of exejinkaverse if you need, and enjoy the read i hope <3

SAITO "ROCK" HIKARI

11-12 y/o

Electopian ; first twin of Haruka and Yuichirou Hikari

Elementary schooler in ACDC Town and civil NetBattler

Navi ability is shooting energy bullets ; weapon is an arm cannon (Rock Buster)

His physical abilities are average on Navi standards, but he possesses unique “customization” skills, which let him take on various transformations to adapt to any situation : from synchronizing with a fellow Navi into Soul Unison, to harnessing the destructive power of the Cybeasts by way of the unpredictable Dark Soul and Saito Style.

Additional BattleChips : Guard, Sword, Minibomb, Hammer, Dash, AirHockey.

Additional support units : C-slider (skateboard), Rush (dog).

Originally an ordinary human save from a rare and deadly heart disease, which confined him in the hospital and would ultimately take his life at age 6, his father's researches and his twin brother’s DNA brought him back from the brink as a NetNavi. But due to minor brain damage during the operation, Netto himself forgot Saito was ever human, the secret staying between the latter and their two parents. Despite this, Saito was now free to attend school normally and generally follow his twin around, picking up skateboarding to keep up with his rollerblades. Saito was quick to befriend the Sakurai, Oyama and Ayanokoji, humans and Navis alike, but would refuse to go on the Net without any of the latter, or to NetBattle altogether. This would however come to change many years later, upon World Three’s first strike...

Saito is significantly quieter and gentler than Netto, but remains just as earnest. Kind and compassionnate, he will however not hesitate to take action upon whoever threatens his loved ones, but his hostility will be quick to fade if his opponent shows genuine remorse. He looks up to many of his fellow Navis without realizing he's a great influence on them in return. A notable case of hero complex, having already overcome death once, he strives to constantly push his limits - culminating in selfless, if not self-sacrificial behavior. Having felt like a burden for the first half of his life, Saito now thrives off feeling reliable, and may bottle up his own pain to bear the world’s weight on his shoulders. He also struggles to come to terms with his artificial rebirth - being one of a kind and unable to confide in anyone who will fully understand, worsened by the secrecy of it all. The many transformations he can undergo only add to that existencial distress, which will culminate as Dark Rock.

His codename originates from the heroic alias he'd use during his playground games with Roll.

---

HINA "ROLL" SAKURAI

11-12 y/o

Neto-Electopian ; adopted by the Sakurai

Elementary schooler in ACDC Town and competitive rhythmic gymnast.

Navi ability is emitting waves - light, sound, shock, even healing ones ; weapon is a ribbon (Roll Whip)

Though frail, training as a gymnast gave her remarkable agility. She can also float down and maintain herself a meter above solid ground. Due to her ability, her EM wave perception is also above the average Navi’s. She takes on archery in 6th grade.

Additional BattleChips : AquaTower, Roll Arrows.

Additional support units : Beat (songbird).

A rare female Navi of mixed descent ; her biological Netopian and Electopian parents died in a car accident when she was a baby. The Sakurai, old friends of aforementionned parents, took her in and raised her along their own daughter of the same age. She was the first of the group to befriend Saito upon his exit of the hospital, showing him the basics of the Navi life. Hina herself had trouble dealing with her high EM sensitivity, getting frequent headaches, possible aftereffects of the accident she survived ; Saito’s compassion had the two grow fast into a close friendship, able to confide in eachother in ways they couldn’t with their otherwise just-as-close human NetOps. With time, Hina grew better control of her abilities, the hairclips she always wears further stabilizing them.

Hina is a cheerful and energetic girl. Though she can be a bit of an airhead, she’s overall easy to get along with. Excitable, emotional, but also very caring, she sees the good in everyone - but much like her Operator and adoptive sister, knows to be firm and speak up for herself. While less of a NetBattler than her friends, as an athlete, she likes a challenge, and her strong mental makes up for her apparent fragility. She has trouble evaluating her own strength (and sometimes her worth) - on the NetBattling side, she believes being no match for Rock or Gutsman, and on the athletic side, she has to practice while wearing limiters if she wants to compete on fair ground with fellow human gymnasts due to Navis' naturally higher physical performances. Regardless, she trains without fear of stumbling or even taking a hit or two.

Her codename originates from the heroic alias she'd use during her playground games with Rock.

---

GENJI "GUTSMAN" OYAMA

11-12 y/o

Electopian ; cousin of Dekao Oyama, his parents are in Netopia much like the latter’s

Elementary school in ACDC Town and civil NetBattler

Navi ability is superstrength ; weapon are gauntlets (Guts Gloves)

Said strength comes with a size and weight far above the average, but he is a little slow.

Additional BattleChips : Guts Machinegun.

Another youth of the peaceful ACDC Town. Due to the particular situation of the Oyama, Genji and Dekao alike spent much time in a children’s home, until they were old enough to fully inhabit their family’s house by themselves. Much of Genji’s early days were spent being taught to control his absurd strength, and he took on NetBattling the very day he was old enough to do so (possibly earlier, secretly...). As he went through elementary school, he rose to first position in ACDC Town - though he never actually battled his friends Roll, Rock or Glyde, merely not interested in competing, to his slight frustration... until Rock was awoken to the thrill of NetBattles and soundly defeated him. This made Genji vow to get better as both a fighter and a person, asking Rock to become his rival ; although said rivalry is pretty mild compared to the antics their excitable NetOps get up to.

Despite the appearances, Genji is of the “gentle giant” type. Extremely self-conscious about his unnatural size and strength, taking on NetBattling helped him overcome a big part of these insecurities and allowed him to build some genuine confidence. Enough, in fact, for him and his NetOp to threaten become school bullies, until they were humbled by the Hikari twins. While not the sharpest tool in the shed, Genji is enthusiastic and loyal to a fault, and will throw himself into battle without hesitation if his friends are in danger. In fact, he’ll do his best to assist them in daily, less serious or urgent situations too, in return to them often assisting him with his homework - his grades aren’t the best, but he’s at least more studious than Dekao. While he can be a bit dense, he’s very sensitive...

His codename was given to him by Dekao to help him overcome his self-consciousness.

---

CLYDE "GLYDE" LOATH-AYANOKOJI

27-28 y/o

Kinglish (has double Electopian nationality) ; relatives unknown, probably not in frequent contact with them given his past

Head butler + pilot and mechanic of the Ayanokoji family ; formerly ““debt collector”” of the Loath family

Navi ability is boosting any appliance to its peak capacity ; weapon is a blunderbuss (Glyde Cannon)

Few match his aerial mobility, with or without his flying carrier.

Additional BattleChips : PaladinSword and Sanctuary.

Additional support units : Rafale (jet-powered glider), Birdbots (doves).

Few would believe this mild and well-mannered gentleman to have been a NetPirate. Once part of the fearsome Loath family, Clyde eluded their mass arrest after their leader’s passing and managed on his own for a while. While sailing through a gang conflict, he rescued without much thought a baby from his opponents, whom he only identified after the fight as the very young heiress of the Ayanokoji family. Understanding she’d been kidnapped for a ransom only to end up caught in the crossfire, Clyde considered taking said ransom for himself, then ultimately decided that he did not want to spend his days running and hiding from the Officials. Upon retrieving their precious daughter, the Ayanokoji would surprise him with an offer : if he quit crime for good and worked for them instead, they would legally cover for him. Figuring he might as well accept, Clyde took up the post and found this new life pleasant enough, slipping into a tutoring role for the young mistress he unexpectedly grew fond of. He would eventually come to look after her friends too, humans and Navis alike. As the Hikari twins got on the move against WWW, he subtly gave them hints and insight on Net criminality, though this backseat involvement would be enough to expose his past to the boys - who would accept him nonetheless.

Already as a NetPirate, Clyde maintained a proper and elegant image, even against his enemies towards whom his apparent politeness came off as heavily fake. To the ACDC children he’s seen grow however, he is genuinely kind, and his patience and perspicacity has had them turn to him for guidance more than once ; having known both the lower and upper social circles has given him much knowledge and adaptability. Even less of a fighter than Roll, he will however not hesitate to soar into action if his employers and/or friends are threatened, ready to protect Yaito with his life and brushing off taunts of criminals doubting his reform. Despite the passive nature of his ability and the near-complete de-weaponization of his trusted Rafale, Clyde remains an ace pilot and can be trusted to effortlessly fly himself or his friends out of a pinch.

He chose his own codename on his early days as NetPirate and kept it despite his "career change" so as to not forget the path he's taken.

---

BLAZE "BLUES" RAITT

17-18 y/o

Netopian (has double Electopian nationality) ; first son of Rosa Raitt, father unknown

Ijuuin bodyguard and Official Netbattler

Navi ability is extending an energy blade out of his hand ; weapon is a katana (Blues Sword)

Developped sharp hearing after losing his sight. His defenses are low but, light and quick on his feet, he's extremely hard to catch.

Other BattleChips : ProtoShield, four elemental swords, Muramasa, a rarely-used stun gun

Additional support units : SoundBreaker (semi-automated bike), Tango (cat).

Despite being born of an affair the father would completely step out of, Blaze was lovingly raised by his mother, her career as a cabaret singer modestly subsiding for both. When Blaze was four, she would fall in love with an Electopian man on a business trip and follow him back to his country along her son. Another boy was born from this union two years later, while Blaze was kept away from the public's eye due to his illegitimate ascendance. This relative peace wouldn't last however, for Rosa was always of frail constitution, and her health would fatally deteriorate over the following years. Shuuseki processed his grief in his own way - burying himself into work and enforcing a strict studying and training schedule upon the two boys that would practically separate them for several years. One more incident was to further derail their lives - in an attempt to protect Enzan from a ransom kidnapping, Blaze lost his sight to a criminal Navi's flashing attack. His training would resume regardless, and he'd be joined by Enzan to properly take up NetBattling, their contract officially forming on an estranged, strictly professional relationship. Blaze then followed his Operator's decision to join the Officials and lock up Netcriminals before they could ever think of targetting him again, Blaze's relentless tracking soon earning him the nickname of "Hound" in lower circles of the Net.

More "trained" than "raised", Blaze internalized at a young age that Navis were better off laying low and obeying - less they be treated as walking weapons on the loose. If having one's life decided ahead is old news in the Ijuuin household, his case was taken to the extreme and he was molded into the perfect bodyguard ; hardly able to act or even think for himself, or to carry a social interaction that isn't work-related (though it should be noted that he was never on the expressive side). His rivalry with Rock will be somewhat liberating by taking on a more personal nature and tapping into his genuine (if unconscious) love for Netbattling, alongside some heated debates on Navis ethics and, with time, calmer conversations on more personal topics. If Blaze has a natural dedication to his duty and a genuine desire to protect his estranged half-sibling, his complete lack of agency will be the core of Dark Blues' rampage as provocative self-expression. Still, only this episode will be able to start mending Navi and Operator back together.

His codename alongside his long hair are homages to his mother.

#headcanons #exejinka verse #hi. enjoy your meal

42 notes · View notes