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moonbaby26 · 3 months ago

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Title: Before the Storm

(Chapter 17 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, binge drinking, vaginal sex, toxic relationship, dubious consent, depression

Chapter Synopsis: The very night of your official engagement to Doflamingo, you are also made to sign your life away to Dressrosa’s king.

You spiral, punishing yourself as he plans to change your past even further. While others still move as distant pieces in the even larger game.

Author’s Notes: For those that do follow this story and read as soon as it updates, I’m so sorry you had to wait 5,000 years this time! I wish there was more here as a reward for that patience. I’m sure there are still typos too. Please proceed with caution! It just needed to be out of my drafts. I’ll proofread after I sleep again. Maybe. 😅

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

——————————

——————————

Something was going wrong with the submarine again. Nothing catastrophic, but it could always progress to that if they didn’t take the time to investigate and repair as they went. Pieces became worn and overtaxed easily. Noises that weren’t even there yesterday would suddenly manifest, anxiety inducing, so many fathoms deep in the darkness.

Law was sure there was a metaphor for their lives in there somewhere too. Just like he and his crew. How much this craft could really endure, until one day it just wouldn’t anymore.

He’d still felt that mental weight on himself as well. Fresh and nagging ever since Doflamingo’s name had been put back to the forefront of his mind with those first reports from Scylla just days ago.

Ghosts of his past had churned up enough that Law was almost glad when that bearing in the engine room had started making a newer, awful whining sound.

It was excuse enough to breach the surface and focus on anything else as they’d headed for another island to both look for parts and avoid the heavier than normal marine patrols in this region of the North Blue.

There’d been a pirate attack on a nearby island called Orlinde. At least that’s what Law had heard. Some shithole port town there, with no real wealth or industry of its own had been burned to the ground. And it hadn’t made much sense as to why. Seemingly foolish to risk the ire of the navy when there’d be no treasure or significant beri to even be had in a place like that.

But whatever the reasoning for those other pirates, their actions there had the marines now swarming. To the point that it funneled anyone actively trying to avoid arrest or other harassment further east.

To an unaffiliated island chain that Law had ordered his crew to then disembark at. All save for Bepo anyway, as strolling through the center of town with an overly nervous ball of white fluff wouldn’t have helped much in their bid to keep a low profile.

They had intended to be here just long enough to find what they needed and to make repairs. But every other outlaw in the area had much the same idea. Crew after crew camping out here as an easy stopover while waiting for the larger marine presence to die down nearby.

And this many egos all right on top of each other became a perfect powder keg for disaster really.

Shachi and Penguin were now on either side of their captain, trying to look as unbothered as he seemed while all three boys stuck tightly together.

They walked past the crowded stores and food stalls. With drunken cursing, and all other sounds of debauchery already going on this soon after sunset.

An old man at the harbor had said there was a store in this direction that sold supplies for ship building. It was worth a try to start there first.

But that unsettled feeling was still in Law’s mind. He was too inexperienced to fully understand it yet. The unnamed intuition which had more to do with what would be happening rather than just what could.

“Hey, Spots!”

And there, a male voice had called out loudly. The first inkling of trouble just this soon.

Law’s eyes had flitted up to an open doorway of one of the bars farther up the street. But the teen kept walking, silent to show his crew he expected much the same from them.

Yet the stranger’s second try to get their attention was even louder than the first, as the owner of that voice stepped into the muddy street in front of them. “Hey, I’m talking to you, you prick!”

And Law did stop reluctantly then, not in fear, but in annoyance. He knew an immediate waste of his time when he saw one.

The man that’d been yelling was about his own age though. Young and snide with a grinning girl under one arm. The man’s other hand held a large blade that now pointed towards Law and his crew.

“Are you hard of hearing? I mean that’s what’s on your hat, right? Black spots? You all look damn stupid I think. But my girl likes your hat. So how much do you want for it, kid?”

The stranger sounded a bit drunk actually. And the girl ribbed him in her reaction. “Fur is in fashion, Sarquiss! So don’t be so stingy. Make them an offer! You know Joker’s gonna pay us good this time regardless.“

Sarquiss? Joker? Those were just two more names that Law had never heard before. They meant nothing to him as the idiots continued to talk.

“This kid’s pretty skinny though. What if he freezes, baby? It’s awful cold out here.” The man smirked down at her, flirting abruptly in return as if he hadn’t just been the one that’d started this whole confrontation.

What kind of fool ever looked away while in the middle of threatening someone though?

These dolts would have been eaten alive in the ways Law had originally been taught. Because seeing the first opening only meant that the first move was his.

It would have been the first kill too if Law had still been that literal to those old teachings. But he left his own sword sheathed against his shoulder.

As it was now, he had no interest in making a scene. Law had planned to initiate a room and simply swap the blade that man held for some of the fresh horse shit he’d already noticed piled up along the street’s edge.

The resulting shock and disgust would have caused plenty of distraction for him, Shachi, and Penguin to quickly be on their way.

But that heavy feeling within Law had somehow remained, even as his hand and lips had begun to move with that whisper of a room.

A dread in him that was not explained until the moment that stranger’s coat had opened further with his playful movements against the girl.

And Law’s eyes had widened as he finally saw the distinct tattoo across that man’s chest. That feeling clicking in him as he knew the absolute mistake he was about to make even before it happened.

No.

He could not stop himself.

He didn’t want to.

“Takt.”

Shachi and Penguin’s surprised gasps were drowned out as the girl’s resulting scream met Law’s ears.

Her boyfriend’s body had been ripped away from her without warning. And flung like a ragdoll, straight through the bar’s long window and all those wooden slats which supported it.

It was a terribly loud crash, so many eyes then looking to Law and his friends from both sides of the street.

The Heart Pirates didn’t hesitate either.

“Go!” Law yelled.

And all three of them had doubled back, beginning to sprint for the harbor.

——————————

Sarquiss had landed hard, stunned and sprawled on that barroom floor to the brief silence of so many other pirates inside. His own crew was chief among them.

The circular tattoo on his chest now smiled to the ceiling. Its left eye struck through, and its wide grin becoming accented with fresh red as blood began to seep from so many cuts dealt from that broken window.

“I don’t…I don’t know what happened.” Sarquiss stammered, bewildered and in pain as another pirate’s boots came to stand near his head.

“Somebody got a cheap shot in while you were buzzed on this shit liquor. That’s all.” The owner of those boots scoffed indignantly. “They’re trying to ruin our party.” But Bellamy still grinned in a practiced copy of that now scratched up jolly roger on his first mate’s chest.

He motioned for his other crew to help Sarquiss up off of the floor while he strode for the door. “It’s fine. I was getting bored of this place anyway. Gladius said we only had to lay low for a day or so after Orlinde before we could put our flags back up.”

Bellamy stood in the doorway then, just seeing the backs of those other young pirates disappearing behind a building further down the street as they ran.

“So meet me back at the ship.” His legs were already coiling as he readied to jump and start clearing right over those buildings to catch up with them. “I’ll get us some fresh meat, and we’ll have a little fun while we wait on Joker’s next instructions.”

——————————

The return to the palace had come soon enough. And you were drinking whiskey straight by that point, no ice, no mixer. Right out of a fancy cabinet of top shelf bottles that likely weren’t meant for anyone but the king himself.

You were still in uniform, but long off duty in your own mind. With one of your legs crossed over the other, and an arm over the back of Doflamingo’s couch in his office.

Whatever anger remained in you for your lack of choice in all of this, was enough to keep even the three executives away. That danger must have been exuding in your body language still. Though you felt their eyes on you intermittently regardless.

They were here to witness your defeat, and to congratulate their master on his success in spinning this into exactly what he wanted it to be.

But you were staring at nothing while they talked. Your gaze on an empty corner currently, and miles from this well appointed room as you drank yourself away just as you’d wanted to do on that dark beach earlier this evening.

You were quietly furious for this treatment. But you also believed you were every bit as responsible for how quickly this relationship had escalated.

No one had picked up or dialed your phone for you the night you’d first called Doflamingo and asked him to meet you in Scylla.

No one had actually put a gun to your head and drug you into that beautiful church to wait for him alone.

No one had told you to fall for him.

Regardless of any blackmail he’d used to this point, you could have been less willing to let it work. You could have told the truth from the beginning and hid behind your betters. Tsuru, Aokiji, or likely even so many others who would have at least tried to help you.

The truth would set you free.

Wasn’t that the old saying? What an optimistic mismatch of words.

More like the truth would cut your heart out and feed it to you with a smile.

“(Y/N).” And his voice did easily rise through that other chatter.

He was the only one here that still would make you pay attention as you looked back to Doflamingo’s desk. Where he now sat, binding you to him for life with each additional swipe of his pen.

“Answer the magistrate’s final questions. It’s required.” The warlord ordered you then, yet with a veil of patience not yet fully undone.

Besides yourself and Doflamingo, the only others in this room were the executives and the government official that had arrived with all those stacks of paperwork and questions.

Questions for you too that you’d mostly ignored, especially once you’d been several glasses into the whiskey.

While peasants may just do a quick hop over to the local justice of the peace and call it a night, anyone becoming property and consort to a world government endorsed king seemingly had far more to worry about.

And when your gaze did go back to that thin little government busybody, he reminded you only of a small rat. Fussing with his hands in such a nervous way as the papers shuffled through them. Like wringing little paws, frightened and stuck between all the monsters now in this room.

“Why can’t you answer everything for me?” You exhaled back to Doflamingo though, the accumulating burn of the whiskey making your body feel so warm at least as you finally responded to the pirate.

“Because that’s not how this works.” Doflamingo replied, still tolerating you even then somehow.

Your eyebrows raised. “Yeah? Since when? Because that’s all I’ve ever seen here.” You answered. He always spoke for you. He chose for you. He was the perfectionist. He was the control freak.

And you were the idiot.

A depressed woman who’d attempted to bury all her problems with a devil, just to be as surprised as anyone when she’d inevitably woken up in hell for her efforts.

“What’s the next question?” Doflamingo just asked the official directly then, all while looking back down to the papers he was still signing.

That warlord didn’t explode, he didn’t even raise his voice that time.

And you didn’t dwell on it as you went back to drinking, having gotten what you wanted if even for a moment in being left alone.

It was only the executives that seemed to take notice, subtly surprised as Doflamingo allowed that little pushback.

“Ah, well…” The official still stammered. “Sire, the next section was about the verification of her birth status. She was born on the island of Orlinde, correct? Within the North Blue?”

“Yes. That’s already in her marine record.” Doflamingo’s tone was notably shorter with the official too, further confirming the clear difference in treatment you had just received.

“Well, there’s a slight discrepancy…a clerical error I’m sure.” That small man produced the weakest chuckle you’d ever heard. “I just needed her to say it was indeed an error.”

And Doflamingo did look back up at that, those facial muscles of his tightening in a way which never meant anything good. “What error?”

“The more discerning background check required for unions of this, um, level. It…it noted her name on the registry for Orlinde as being born to a…well, to a slave woman, sire.”

You felt the room change.

The official became even shakier too, horrified really as an inhuman growl came from that desk before the magistrate could say anything more.

“She was never born of a slave. So your first assumption of that being bad data was the correct one. Is that understood?”

And you were just watching. Observing these further lies as Doflamingo told them.

His lips were pulled back from his teeth in an expression you fully recognized too.

Note anything different and I’ll gut you where you goddamn stand.

That’s what that energy so clearly said.

“Of course, your highness! I’m fixing it now! I’ll correct it all immediately!”

You knew how fucked up it was for you just to be an observer to such bullying of the weak. You were supposed to protect others, even when they sniveled and whined like this man now was.

But you didn’t feel that guilty either as you uncrossed your legs and shifted on the couch.

And Doflamingo’s head turned the moment you had moved even that much again.

You knew he had to do that, to properly see you at this angle. But something about that instant attention made you look at him even longer in return.

Because what did he think you were going to do?

What did he want you to do?

“King Doflamingo and Ms. (Y/N), that only leaves the oath itself…” The official’s fully uneasy voice interrupted those additional odd thoughts.

“Then go ahead.” The warlord commanded him just as quickly. “Read it to her.”

The official nodded, with a pen clutched in one of his sweating hands. And the final pages of all of that paperwork in the other as he looked down to read it.

“Ms. (Y/N)…do you hereby agree to loyalty until your death to King Donquixote Doflamingo of Dressrosa? Do you also understand the legal bindings of this union? And the consequences of non compliance, up to and including charges of treason against this aforementioned monarch and our World Government via his status as a sanctioned vessel beholden to our Holy Land of Mariejois?”

You really were too far gone for this shit.

So what? If you got into another fight and decked him when he deserved it, that’d now be the same as rebellion against the Red Line itself? Just because he was a government backed dictator?

Was arguing with him treason too? What about ever leaving this island? Was that desertion and dereliction of your soon to be wifely duties?

Even signing your marine recruitment papers hadn’t felt this restrictive. And that’d been you literally agreeing to march to your own death if your commanding officers simply said to.

“Yeah…what else am I supposed to say?” You knew you weren’t going to be let out of this room otherwise. And you did want out as you stretched your legs away from you, still seated on that couch.

Things were starting to feel too much for you again, like everything was closing in once more. “Fuck it…yes. I guess I do.” You forced another couple of breaths as you brought the whiskey glass to your lips again.

Or at least you’d tried to.

The strings that then looped around your wrist had jerked your hand hard enough to splash that liquid down the front of your shirt instead. Right before you were being pulled up and onto your feet.

“I already said yes, you-” You started to bitch at him immediately. It was hard enough to catch your balance when this inebriated without Doflamingo also pulling you so roughly to his desk.

“And I accept your agreement.” He laughed abruptly, cutting both you and the official off before any other response could be given.

It hurt you as your hips hit his desk. And with him already seated, he didn’t have to lean as far down to reach your mouth across that desk either.

Doflamingo got to taste the full brunt of that alcohol you were now hiding behind as he kissed you.

While you got to taste his still enduring desperation for any piece of you that was left for the taking.

It was going to be a very long night.

——————————

The paperwork was done and sent. Clothes were scattered across the floor, and Doflamingo was already back over the top of you in his massive bed.

A large glass of his best cava was in his hand as his hips pumped against you slowly while he drank. He was savoring the drawn out pressure of you around him, mixed into that chilled feeling of the sparkling wine now flooding down his throat.

He swallowed again, then moaning as his mouth came back off of the glass.

“You fucking lush…you’re such a bad influence.” He laughed a little after, running his thumb firmly over your parted mouth while his cock continued to move in and out between your legs at that languid pace.

He could nearly get off on just the sound of his own voice by now though. He was so stimulated. Everything felt good. Everything felt right.

Because he’d done it.

You were his in every legal way that mattered.

And you were still somewhat conscious this time. The alcohol metabolizing enough by now to mostly take your voice. But you were watching him as he fucked you. His every action slow and deliberate as he fully enjoyed himself and this renewed lack of your resistance.

You even gave a few little moans and gasps as he rewarded you again by angling himself just right.

“Good girl…such a good girl for me. It feels amazing, doesn’t it?” He panted a bit anyway, his lust driving up his body temperature regardless of the careful pace. He reached briefly to set his now empty glass back onto the nightstand.

“I want this all the time…all the damn time. You know that right? I can’t stop…not when it’s you.” He just kept on, using that steady, long lasting rhythm.

He did try to keep his full weight off of your wounded thigh at least. Mindful of where he moved your leg as he took you. But this was still a celebration after all. He also wanted to feel you under him in all the right ways.

“Doffy…” You did grimace a little as the tip of him kissed against your cervix again.

He smiled at the plea of his name from your lips though. You were so pretty like this. And all of it was for him.

Maybe tomorrow your brain would be back to functioning well enough for him to explain your other wedding gifts as well.

Ever since the two of you had first sailed from Scylla together, he’d gotten busy with moving his chess pieces all over the board for you.

The nearest loyal mongrels Gladius could assign for him to your home island of Orlinde, had already razed that brothel you’d been born in to ash in a much needed cleansing of your pedigree.

While another official on Doflamingo’s payroll had just as recently planted forged documents of your revised parentage for Big News Morgans to find instead.

Doflamingo had already teased you with the idea of gifting that Scyllian villa to you. The villa that became the first nest the two of you had ever slept side by side in, would of course now be important to him as well. It was not leaving your and his new family no matter what now.

But that was still not enough.

With the machinations he had going, your bloodline was going to be from Scylla.

Any children you could give him would then have both Dressrosa and Scylla to their credit.

Which, that was now another thing he needed to follow up on starting tomorrow. Caesar had had well enough time to deliver.

Doflamingo smiled again though as you shuddered quietly beneath him.

“Still with me?” He hummed, seeing your eyes close then as he rubbed his hand down your side and you stilled again. “Or have you forgotten your own name, dear, while that poor liver of yours cries out from abuse?”

The moonlight highlighted his entertained expression as his lips pulled back from his teeth again. His hand had moved up to your throat as he gripped it in his continued pleasure.

He watched as your breasts rose and fell a little harder with those deeper breaths your body was then forced to take as he gradually restricted your airway.

It made his cock twitch so well inside of you.

“Forget your name anyway.” Doflamingo growled as he felt himself nearing that edge of climax when you finally coughed beneath his ever tightening hand. He was beginning to choke you, and it only made him want more of that feeling. “Because you’re a Donquixote now.”

Or at least the property of one as he felt your own hand then move to close on his larger wrist weakly.

Your body was too drunk to stop him, but that reflex of self preservation still flickered up in you all the same.

Doflamingo moaned loudly too as he saw your eyes reopen, half lidded to look at him in that new, pitiful way.

That helpless look is what did send him over the edge. As you tried and failed to breathe in his grip, he only bucked his hips that much harder as he spilled himself out into you yet again.

This is what it meant to truly own you.

———————————

“She hasn’t called?” Aokiji asked as he’d entered the other admiral’s office without warning.

But Kizaru looked unbothered as usual even at the surprise visit, just glancing up from a mission report that Sentomaru had submitted for sign off.

“Well…hello to you too. You’ve been off base quite a while.” He did comment though, watching Aokiji through those amber tinted glasses. “We were starting to think you may have gone rogue actually.”

It was said so calmly, but with just that hint of a smirk. “Sengoku wouldn’t have liked that.”

“I went patrolling on my own for a few days. That’s nothing new.” Aokiji frowned, and not taking a seat as he continued to stand. “But did Captain (Y/N) call today? Akainu’s got the Fleet Admiral in a meeting, and no one else seems to know.”

Kizaru shrugged. “I haven’t talked to her.” He looked back to his paperwork, but with noticeable disinterest in it now. “Why don’t you just call her yourself if it’s really become that distracting to you?”

But the resulting silence did make Kizaru finally look up again. That slight amusement was clearer on his face now. “Oh? Are you afraid to call her?”

Aokiji’s arms were crossed, his whole demeanor looking incredibly stern. “This isn’t about me. So get that stupid look off of your face.”

Wasn’t this his normal face? Kizaru thought to himself. Regardless, he didn’t seem insulted. “Hmm. Think you might say something unprofessional if you did call?” He mused to only add to this instead. “I guess that could be embarrassing for someone of our rank.”

And a cold palm did slam down onto the desk then. Aokiji could hold back much longer usually. But that cool composure was seemingly less and less lately. Especially when it came to the subject of you.

“Enough. I’ve told you so many times…” The ice admiral still warned.

Yet Kizaru barely reacted to that flare of temper, just glancing to the now frost covered hand and then back up into the frustrated eyes of its owner.

“Yeah? …You think you’ll just endanger her if you make any obvious fuss, don’t you? Doflamingo is quite an unstable man. But how many years have we known each other now? I’d say you’ve already made your move if I was to bet.” Kizaru nearly smirked again. “Where have you really been these past few days?”

“You’re no help at all. As usual.” Aokiji grumbled, just stepping back from the desk at the accusation.

He didn’t deny this either.

But Kizaru simply watched him, rather expressionless once more. “Did you ask for my help? I don’t recall that happening.”

Aokiji’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at him. “You’d be in Akainu’s ear in a heartbeat if I did.”

“And so what? We’re all comrades in arms…aren’t we?” Finally there was that minuscule trace of a frown on Kizaru’s lips.

They were supposed to work together.

But that look of disappointment was just for a moment before he set his pen down and grabbed the receiver from off of the large transponder snail on his desk.

Aokiji’s eyes widened slightly at this movement, surprised and untrusting as Kizaru leaned back in his chair while the operator connected.

“Yes, admiral?” HQ’s switchboard girl answered kindly.

“Hello, Miss,” He said with a new, slight smile. “I need you to ring someone for me.”

“Of course, admiral. Who do you want me to connect you to?”

“Pull the warlord numbers if you please. I want Donquixote Doflamingo’s most direct line.”

There was just the briefest pause there too. Her voice changing a little. “The Fleet Admiral has put a restriction on that line, sir. No non-emergency calls. Is this considered an emergency?”

“Sure.” Kizaru was patient as anything, almost relaxing in his chair. “Let’s say it’s an emergency.”

“Yes, sir. Then I’m connecting you now.” Her nervousness gave way to dutiful obedience quickly enough as there was a click followed by momentary silence.

“The hell are you doing!?” Aokiji snapped at him in that brief delay before the line began to trill in new ringing.

Kizaru looked back up at him, unfazed.

The phone continued to ring.

“It’d be pretty late in Dressrosa right now wouldn’t it?” Kizaru just thought out loud instead of giving a proper answer, glancing at the multiple clocks across his wall which denoted the different times across the seas.

But Aokiji was not amused at all, starting to reach to hang up that transponder snail himself before a loud click had both admirals pause.

“This better be good.” Came the noticeably sleep hazed voice. A sharpness to it already though, with that transponder snail scowling up at them now.

“Oh…did I interrupt your beauty rest, pirate?” Kizaru responded, watching that snail as Aokiji went fully silent.

“Huh…” There was that moment of thought and maybe even a bit of surprise on the other end of the line. But the real recognition didn’t take long. Because there weren’t many men that would have been so casual as this. And those that would, didn’t sound like that.

“Admiral Kizaru is it?” Doflamingo recovered quickly, dark voice sounding more interested now.

“Yes, I’m calling from HQ.” Kizaru drawled. “Seems our captain that you appointed to your island recently hasn’t reported in to us today. And you wouldn’t have had anything to do with that little lapse in her communication, now would you?”

The implied threat didn’t even have to be overt. It was well enough for any of the three navy admirals to take a personal interest in anything like this of course.

And this would now be the second admiral to do so in your name if the rumors of Aokiji’s previous visit to Doflamingo’s house in Sabaody were to be believed.

And Kizaru did believe it.

What he was surprised by was that it hadn’t been enough.

A pirate that didn’t have the sense to back down for even an admiral.

It was a problem.

And the snail had quieted for a moment, its serious expression seeming to consider the weight of this new questioning from the admiral.

But Kizaru was exactly correct. Doflamingo understood the threat.

Doflamingo chose not to heed it.

Because the snail smiled then, wide and cruel as the warlord’s decision was made.

“Well…it is late. But if you insist, then why don’t you ask her yourself, admiral? It really has nothing to do with me.” Doflamingo replied with an all new goading.

And there was a sound of a bed creaking.

The warlord’s voice became slightly quieter as he’d moved away from the receiver.

“Captain…hey.” It almost sounded gentle. But that snail was still grinning, Doflamingo’s dark voice still close enough for his real expression to be picked up. That smug pride radiating even as the intentional softness continued. “No…you need to wake up. You’ve got a colleague on the line…come here.”

The two admirals stared at that snail.

“…what?” A confused female voice finally protested.

“The phone, darling. It’s your work. Already not respecting your off duty hours at all it seems…”

The temperature now plummeted in Kizaru’s office at that vulnerable sound of you, as well as the full implications of what this truly meant.

But Kizaru cut in before Aokiji could. Even as both admirals’ breaths were then coming in trails of vapor within the room.

“Captain.” Kizaru said louder and firmer than he ever normally would to you.

And you heard it. Also recognizing his voice that you’d heard far more times than any warlord ever would.

There was more noise of the snail moving then. Like you were now picking it up from off of the bed. “…Admiral?” You asked in delayed surprise.

But there was more to it than that. You didn’t sound right, even in just these couple of words.

“Yes. Checking in, Captain. You didn’t give your status to anyone today.” Kizaru answered.

“I…” You tried. “There was…” Yes, they could fully tell now. You were trying so hard, but slurring every brief word none the less.

You were fully drunk.

And you finally gave up, starting to actually plead in that humiliation of being ambushed in this way. “I…I’m fine. But I can’t…debrief right now. Sir…I’m…I’m sorry…”

The snail trembled, its eyes heartbreakingly defeated.

It was worse than any of them had ever thought then.

This was not the woman they knew.

Aokiji was about to snap. And Kizaru considered transmitting himself towards Sengoku’s office here and now.

But their shared enemy still most running this show wasn’t ceding his spotlight yet either.

“Admiral.” Doflamingo’s voice came back, shamelessly calm in contrast to your now evident emotions. “The Captain can speak with you later. I’m sure you’d agree that there’s nothing wrong with a little over indulgence when off the clock…we’ve all been there.”

And he even made a noise as if he was comforting you beside him. Hushing you with a mimicry of affection before he spoke again. “…I’ll have her touch base with you tomorrow. Once she’s sobered up of course.”

Yet that snail also showed its teeth again before it was done. The harsher expression forming which didn’t match that measured tone at all.

“But tomorrow we’ll be very busy as well. Some news will be coming out, and her work for Dressrosa will be taking priority. The mission always comes first, correct? And she is one of your most dedicated.”

The snail’s tongue moved across those teeth. One final jab then added like a garnish on the heap of bullshit already being presented.

“This king is certainly glad to have her services at least.”

And Kizaru was forced to make a choice.

He disappeared in a flash of yellow light, taking the snail with him as Aokiji had reached for it to speak.

No one could match Kizaru’s speed. And Aokiji had then turned, the purest rage within those dark eyes as Kizaru now stood all the way out in the hallway, holding that snail.

It was already back asleep as Kizaru had disconnected the call even before he’d moved.

“I’ll kill him.” Aokiji breathed, ice having already overtaken half of his face.

Kizaru was initially silent. His eyes had narrowed as well behind his glasses.

But then he spoke to his peer, blunt and sure. “They’d order me and Sakazuki to erase you for treason, brother. And that wouldn’t help anybody. Now would it?”

Aokiji gave him a look of disgust. Words seemed pointless by now. They both knew how wrong this was.

Yet Kizaru did begin walking back to him. A show of continued trust really. Because they were not enemies.

“Whatever you already did…” Kizaru started. “Is that going to help her?”

Aokiji’s shoulders sank ever so slightly, but his ice did not recede.

“Temporarily…but I came back here to do the rest of it. I am going to get her off of Dressrosa. No matter what that takes.”

——————————

Borsalino had actually hung up on him. The least passionate of all three admirals, and Doflamingo was certain he’d still gotten under that man’s skin.

Were you really that important to all of them then? Doflamingo’s own ego was happy to believe that you were.

Because it made you feel even more hard won if so. His marine treasure, stolen straight from the top and now further slipping through the hands of even the world’s greatest soldiers.

And how interesting that they didn’t seem to know about your public betrothal yet. Kizaru was a hard one to judge though. He hadn’t mentioned it at least.

Hopefully this really did mean that there were no marine spies left on Dressrosa to call and tattle to HQ. None outside of the toys working in his underground port anyway.

And he’d taken your own phone away immediately after the incident with Crocodile. You’d only been allowed to make calls right in front of him now.

Morgans’ reporters were likely playing things close to the vest too, to not share anything until those newspapers went to press. They wanted the first and only scoop for tomorrow’s worldwide release.

But there was nothing Sengoku could possibly do to reverse this either once he would find out. You were still a marine, just as Doflamingo had promised he’d let you remain. But you were also now his wife, with all of the added immunity that provided for you.

You couldn’t be fired, or even demoted. Not unless Doflamingo wanted you to be.

The five old men on the Red Line had reluctantly agreed to this in his stipulations. No doubt just humoring the traitorous brat that they still thought he was.

If they believed he was distracted, it made their lives easier. Less trouble he could cause for them.

Perhaps you’d actually thank him some day though. He was a generous master after all. Pulling his strings all the way from heaven to hell in this whirlwind of a love affair with you.

But tonight you were still too upset. Still too close to it all to realize how lucky you actually were to have his attention this deeply.

Your head was on his chest once more as he rubbed your back idly in the dark.

He could feel that dampness against his bare skin. Your silent tears as you surely thought your career was now dead and gone.

You were crying yourself back to sleep like the pitiful, broken thing you still were.

But he didn’t mind.

Doflamingo kissed the top of your head as that new whim overcame him.

You were his responsibility now.

His prize and his companion to defend.

Dawn would come again tomorrow, and with it the world’s reactions to what he’d done to you. But he welcomed that challenge and whatever new enemies it would bring him.

Because he’d bury them all like the good mate he was. He would protect you. This was his nest and his woman.

He nuzzled his face back down against your hair. Hiding his scarred eye as the other eye watched the room for a bit longer before also drifting closed.

Your arms were tight around him. It felt right. But even in all his intense possessiveness that this inspired, there was something else so wholly new as well.

He felt safe.

He felt needed.

Until death do you part indeed. As that would be the only possible way for anyone to ever carve you from him now.

———————————

T⨂ BE

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

133 notes · View notes

uvobreakmylegs · 1 year ago

Text

Set Pattern

it has been far too long since I wrote for the trash clown

Hisoka x reader

Warnings: stalking, blood, mentions of death, depictions of violence, noncon

Word count: 8.7k

….. Was this really where you were supposed to go?

That was the question going through your head when you found what was at the end of the alleyway. Wherever the map was supposed to lead you, it seemed odd that it would lead you here.

Maybe you had messed up at some point along the journey here, perhaps by way of misreading the map completely and making a wrong turn. But when you looked down at the map you'd gotten from the man who you met when you came into port, the directions you had followed appeared to be correct: the route provided to you led to this spot.

But it couldn't be right. Why would the map lead to a dead end?

Looking back up to the area before you, you scanned over it again, trying to see if there was anything of note in the open area. All you saw were piles of garbage sitting next to a metal trash can that looked as though fires had been set in it regularly, and opposite that stood a large but flimsy sheet of plywood with a bit of cloth hanging over the edge as it leaned against one of the four stone walls. Aside from old cobbled surface beneath your feet and the small flight of stairs you had just descended, there was nothing else, and you once again looked back to your map, looking over the highlighted route and trying to figure out where you had messed up and where you were really supposed to go for the exam.

Once again, it didn't appear to be wrong. This was where the map had wanted you to go.

Sighing to yourself, you put the map into your hoodie pocket as you figured that you should at least investigate the area.

Though while your hand was in your pocket, you instinctively reached for the weapon you were keeping hidden in there, your hand brushing up against the hilt. Despite the feeling of apprehension that this spot was giving you, the knife in your pocket gave you some sense of security. Though you knew you shouldn't bring it out now in case someone was watching. Better to keep it hidden and not reveal your hand too quickly.

Now there was a lesson you had learned the hard way.

You shook your head, as if the physical action would send away those thoughts from the past – both past and recent – as you needed to be focused on the task at hand. A lot of time had been spent researching the Hunter's exam. You'd looked over discussion threads and testimonials from people who had claimed to have attempted the exam, and while there had definitely been a few entries where the authors had clearly either been greatly exaggerating or flat-out lying, the one thing you could say for certain regarding the exam was that you needed to be on your guard at all times.

So it was better to not focus on the unpleasant memories regarding your stalker.

You craned your neck as you took a step forward, trying to see around the round metal can without getting too close, though there was nothing to be seen outside of the piles of garbage and a few odd planks of wood. And when you looked to examine the wall behind you, there was nothing aside from the opening to the narrow alleyway and the stairs that led up to it. No doors, no windows, nothing.

Was this really a dead end?

Or was the door hidden?

Ah, that could definitely be it. This place certainly felt a bit odd – why else would an alleyway lead to an open space with seemingly no real purpose? Maybe it was meant to deter those who wanted to take the exam, make them turn themselves around and then get lost trying to find the “right” location, and while they were doing that, they missed out on the window to officially enter the exam and be forced to wait until the next year.

That seemed in line with what these examiners might do, if that ship captain was anything to go by.

Feeling a bit more confident, you began to walk towards the area in the space that seemed as though it was hiding something – the piece of plywood, and when nothing happened after taking the first few steps, you quickened your pace, hurrying over to the wall as you glanced up to the sky above you. It was late in the day, but not close enough to be the evening. The captain didn't tell you how much time you had to make it to the official gathering spot for the exam, but with how fast you had found the other examiner at the docks, you felt that you were getting through the stages at a decent pace.

That certainty increased when you pulled the plywood away and found that there was a door in the wall that had been hidden behind it. A door that was locked, but still, what else could a secret door be for? You probably just needed to find the key somewhere in this area, and then that'd be another part of the exam under your belt.

Another step towards the protection and security that had evaded you for a while now.

Now for the key.

Your eyes naturally went to the trash can and the bags around it, though you questioned yourself on that almost immediately as it felt too obvious. But if not that, then what?

You looked about the area again, glancing at the stairs and then at the cobblestones.

….. Could they have hidden it underneath one of those?

Within an instant you were on your hands and knees, pulling at the individual stone pieces in an effort to find one that was loose. This seemed right. This sort of trickery felt in line with the things you had read during your research. The Hunter Association didn't want just anyone joining them, so you needed to do more than just follow instructions and a map. You needed to have some brain power if you were going to get that license. That was fair.

You paused briefly after having that thought, focusing in particular on the word you had used.

'Fair'

…. No, it really wasn't. It wasn't fair at all.

There was nothing fair about the fact that you needed to go this far just to get some safety.

Your mood fell as those intrusive thoughts came to mind again, and this time you weren't able to push them away so easily.

It really didn't seem like the Hunter's Association did much good for the world. More often than not, it seemed as though the majority of those who worked for the association had joined just to take advantage of the protections that it offered. Before everything with your stalker had started, you had heard in passing about a few horror stories of the deaths of civilians at the hands of Hunters, and how those Hunters in question were rarely punished for it. It was only in the truly gruesome and egregious cases that made headlines where the association was forced to make a statement and do something about it, and those cases were few and far between.

So most of the time, all those Hunters would do when caught was flash that card of theirs and they were off the hook.

A sight you had seen all too often by now.

But it would be okay, you told yourself as you continued moving from cobblestone to cobblestone while prying at them with your fingers. You'd get that Hunter card, and then he couldn't do anything to you anymore. And sure, the exam itself would be tough, but you were confident that you could get through it.

Just keep your guard up and your mind focused.

It looked like you finally found what you were looking for when one of the stones in the middle of the open area moved when you pulled on it. Of course, it wasn't coming out easily, and in an effort to force it out, you changed your position and moved so your back was facing the alleyway opening. The stone came out a bit more when you tried from that angle, but it still didn't want to give.

You continued like that until you stopped to take a break, at which point you reevaluated your thoughts.

Was this right? Would an examiner really hide a key underneath the cobblestone? Was it something more elaborate? Or were you right earlier in thinking that maybe it was in the oil drum? Maybe you were overthinking things.

Fuck, maybe there hadn't even been a hidden key. Maybe all you needed to do was knock on the door and it would open. Maybe you had wasted a lot of time doing something stupid.

You sighed to yourself as you wished that you didn't need to be here, and you began to get up so you could check the door again.

“Is there a reason that you're trying to pull apart the pavement, pet?”

The sound of the voice combined with a presence that was suddenly standing behind you had you freeze in place, and after a few moments as reality sunk in, you felt your heartbeat starting to pound as you were immediately aware that you knew that voice. You knew it better than you wanted to.

There was no mistaking that disgustingly playful tone of voice.

That day he'd been waiting for you when you got home, and he kept quiet until you entered your bedroom, at which point he announced his presence by giving you a cheerful 'hello', like he was supposed to be there.

The sight of him lounging on your bed made you panic, and after a few choice words and demands that he leave which were all met with a flippant refusal from him, you pulled out your phone to call the police.

You weren't even able to put in the first digit before the phone flew out of your hand and straight into his.

Fear and confusion hit you then, while he told you not to be so dramatic.

In that moment, being around him felt far more dangerous than it had in those previous meetings, and all your brain was telling you to do right then was to run.

You managed to turn around and step out of the room-

But that was as far as you got, as something pulled you back in. And just like your phone moments earlier, you were pulled into his grip.

You tried to keep your breathing level in an effort to keep calm. Panicking never helped you when it came to dealing with him. It was hard, but you needed to do that much.

Although you didn't want to, eventually you managed to compel yourself to turn your head and confirm visually what you already knew the instant you heard his voice:

Hisoka had found you.

He stood at the top of the stairs, the signature star and teardrop painted beneath his eyes and clad in one of his usual gaudy outfits. He'd also changed his hair color since you'd seen him last, having gone from orange to back to pink.

Despite your sullen expression, he was as amused as ever when your eyes met his. Raising up one hand, he waved at you as he said “I saw that you were taking a trip to Begerosse, so I thought I'd surprise you.”

When you didn't reply, Hisoka continued with “well, pet? Aren't you happy to see me?”

He was smiling when he said that, knowing full well that you were currently the furthest thing from 'happy' whenever you saw him. And especially now.

No doubt he'd realized what it was that you were trying to do and was here to put a stop to it.

As easy as it would have been to admit defeat while falling into despair, you reminded yourself that you weren't helpless, not completely. For now, try to keep him talking while you figured out what to do from here. At least that part would be easy enough – Hisoka loved to talk.

“So you lied about going to Heavens Arena,” you finally said.

“I didn't lie,” he answered, “but there was nothing interesting going on, so I left early.”

He pulled out a deck of playing cards, and he began to shuffle them from hand to hand as he continued with “it's a good thing I did. If I hadn't seen you heading off to the port, you might be in a terrible situation right now.”

“It's hard to imagine that anything could be worse than being alone with you,” you responded flatly.

Instead of being insulted by your jab, Hisoka smiled. As usual, nothing you said was able to upset him. You could've spewed out the most hateful, vile words towards him (and you had a few times when you'd reached your limit) and he was only ever proud of the fact that he'd managed to get you that angry with him. Nothing ever phased him. Nothing that you were capable of, anyway.

A majority of the cards in his hand disappeared, and he was left with a smaller selection of around five or six. You weren't sure if there was any significance to what he was doing. You were inclined to doubt that there was; Hisoka wasn't one to stay idle for very long.

“Despite how you view me, I'm actually quite nice to you, pet,” Hisoka told you.

You scoffed.

“It's not very nice to stalk people,” you answered.

“And yet, it was quite good for you that I did just that in this instance.”

He pulled out a random card from the selection in his hand and turned it so you could see the face of the card.

Whichever card that was, you didn't know. You were more focused on the bright red blood spatter on top of it.

Somehow, for a few moments, you'd managed to forget that he used those cards as weapons. Though you'd never seen it in person, your curiosity had driven you to watch the recordings from the arena, allowing you to get a glimpse at what the clown was capable of.

“….. You killed someone?” you asked, to which Hisoka smiled while he put the card back with the rest and began to shuffle them again.

Your voice was far more quiet when you asked that, and it shook slightly despite how hard you tried to keep it steady. Truthfully, this scenario happening was one that had crossed your mind. While you had hoped that it could be avoided, it was ultimately wishful thinking that he wouldn't find out and confront you on the way to the exam site.

But it was the fact that he'd killed someone that rattled you. That he was willing to cut down members of the association just to keep you in this game of cat and mouse that he loved so much. That his obsession went that far.

“Won't you get in trouble for killing someone from the association?” you asked. Your voice was stronger that time.

He cocked an eyebrow at that, asking back “who exactly did I kill from the association?”

“One of the examiners.”

“You aren't at the point where you'd be meeting any examiners, pet,” he corrected, “until you reach the starting line, you're only in the pre-exam.”

“… Fine. One of the pre-examiners.”

“And what makes you so certain that I killed one of them?”

“The next checkpoint is right there,” you answered, pointing at the door as you said “if I'd gotten in there before you came, I could've continued.”

Hisoka stopped shuffling the cards as he looked to where you had pointed, staring at the door for a few moments before looking back to you.

And then he started to laugh.

You didn't really want to ask, but knowing that he likely wouldn't tell you on his own, you were compelled to ask “what's so funny?”

“You haven't figured it out? You still think you're in the running for the exam?” he asked.

Your brows furrowed as you answered “of course I am. I got the map from the guy at the port.”

“And that was where you went wrong, pet,” he began, “because you weren't supposed to get any map. The man who gave it to you wasn't working for the association.”

“And how do you know that?” you asked.

“Because the person you were supposed to go to was the woman in the crab boat at the other end of the port.”

“How do you know that?” you asked again.

“From the captain. I overheard him speaking to the three of the others who got off the ship with you,” said Hisoka.

“And he told them and not me?”

“Clearly he must have felt that you weren't suited to take the exam. And I have to agree with his judgment on that. You couldn't even see the obvious trap that you walked right into.”

“What trap?”

“Do I really need to go into that much detail, pet?”

His tone was mocking, and you hated it. And what you hated even more was that you were starting to believe what he was telling you as you thought back on the man you had run into at port.

He was tall and had an eye patch, and he had scared off another man who had approached you with offers to sell you the information you needed to get to the next point of the pre-exam. The man with the eye patch had been polite to you, handing off the map while telling you to be wary of people who were looking to take advantage of newcomers to the exam.

Had all of that been an act? Was that first guy in on it and only there so you would trust the one with the eye patch?

“Why did that guy tell me to come here?” you asked.

Hisoka hummed. He was having too much fun with this.

“Do you know how many people die or go missing during the Hunter's exam?” he asked in response.

“A lot,” you answered.

He nodded.

“On average the number is in the triple digits,” he continued, “and with so many people vanishing or dying around the same time, it's not much of a surprise that there will be those who try to take advantage of that.”

“And how was he going to take advantage of me?” you asked.

“His friends were going to kill you.”

You stayed quiet as Hisoka continued with “that man was part of a group that murdered would-be participants of the Hunter exam so they could sell the pieces of their victims on the black market. And if everything had gone as they'd wanted, the ones who were waiting here earlier would've jumped you the instant you walked down those stairs, and by now you'd be dead in that building while they scooped your organs out through your stomach.”

He clapped his hands together and pulled them away, revealing that the cards in his hands had disappeared completely.

Then he smiled as he said “luckily for you, I prefer that your insides stay where they are.”

… He could be lying, you reminded yourself.

“If these people were known to kill participants, why didn't the association do anything about them?” you asked.

“They likely hadn't found out about them yet,” Hisoka answered, shrugging as he continued “it's not as though they're the only ones to take advantage of the opportunity the exam creates. And I'd guess that they were smart and never took out too many at one time; the ones who get caught are the ones who get greedy.”

“Though they won't be continuing their operations anymore,” he added, “so you're welcome, pet. I saved you from a horrific death. I do hope you appreciate the things I do for you.”

You looked to the door before looking back to him.

“This really isn't the next point for the exam?” you asked.

“Would you like me to break down that door and show you the state those people are in now?”

After a moment, you shook your head; based on that response, it seemed pretty likely that he was, in fact, telling you the truth.

Which just made this whole thing worse.

You'd been tricked. In your desperation to get that license, you went with bad intuition on who to trust at the port, and because of that, you hadn't even managed to get to the true start of the exam before Hisoka found you. Hell, he was aware of what had happened at the port you'd gotten off at, so he'd been watching you for a while. He could've stepped in at any point, no doubt he just chose to do so when he felt that his entrance would be sufficiently dramatic enough.

It left a bad taste in your mouth that you should technically be grateful for him since he did save your life.

Though if he hadn't been the one to stalk and harass you, you wouldn't have even been here.

Hisoka brought your attention back to him when he called out to you.

“Well, pet? Don't I deserve some gratitude for my efforts?”

“….. Thanks for not letting me die.”

“You're welcome,” he cheerfully replied, before continuing with “now, how about we head off?”

“No.”

You finally pulled yourself to your feet while Hisoka watched, staying quiet for once. When you looked at him again, you told him “I'm going back to the port. I need to take the Hunter's exam.”

He cocked an eyebrow as he asked “what makes you think you still have a chance of taking it?”

“I'm sure I'll find that woman. It hasn't been that long since I left and it isn't that late.”

“Hm. I suppose I should rephrase that,” he said.

Those golden eyes seemed to pierce through you when he spoke again.

“What makes you think I'll let you go back?”

…..

You weren't sure what to say at first. When he asked that, there was an intensity in him that you weren't used to, and you weren't sure what to make of it. Was he upset? That would be a first, though since he'd let you go as far as you did, it seemed unlikely.

Maybe he wanted you to give up and go back quietly when he revealed himself to you. Realize that this escape route was just as much of a dead end as the others you'd tried. Go back to that house and let him feel like he'd won. Again.

Fuck him. You weren't going to give up that easily.

Eventually, you asked “what would be the alternative if I can't go back to port?”

Hisoka's more cheerful demeanor returned when he spoke again.

“I was thinking I'd take you back home,” he answered, “the exam simply isn't for you, pet.”

“I can handle it.”

He laughed.

“It's very cute that you have so much confidence in yourself,” said Hisoka, “but if you were to actually make it to the starting line, you would have a very harsh reality check.”

“I'll take my chances,” you replied, “it can't be any worse than living with you constantly breathing down my neck any opportunity you get.”

At that, he actually shook his head, saying “you're a tad delusional, pet. You always say such cruel things about me, but if you were to enter the exam, you'd find yourself at the mercy of hundreds that would have no issue throwing you under a bus if it meant they were one step closer to getting a license for themselves.”

“Some of them wouldn't even do it for the license,” he added, “some would do it just for their one amusement. So despite how you feel, I'm afraid that I have to put my foot down on this matter, as I have no desire to see you kill yourself by way of your own stupidity.”

Hisoka held out his hand towards you and said “now, lets head home.”

You looked at his outstretched hand and then back to him. And then you shook your head.

“I'm not leaving without taking the exam,” you told him.

There was a silence after you spoke, as Hisoka didn't say anything at first.

If he was really having enough of your stubbornness, then this conflict would be over quickly. Hisoka was far stronger than he looked and it took next to nothing for him to restrain you.

But that he hadn't felt the need to go that far yet.

That was at least something in your favor.

After several moments of that awkward silence continuing between the two of you, he spoke again.

“Tell me something; why do you want to take the exam so badly?” he asked.

“Why does it matter?” you asked back.

“Because I've never seen this desire to become a Hunter before,” he replied, “and I'm curious as to where this suddenly came from.”

“Maybe I'll tell you after the exam.”

“Mm, I don't think so. Like I told you pet, I don't want to see you kill yourself doing this.”

“Then I guess you don't get to know,” you said, before adding “I'm not telling you anything without you working for it first.”

That seemed to get his interest, as his eyebrows raised and he hummed to himself.

“You do know that I can just make you come with me if I really wanted to, don't you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, “but I also know that you wouldn't find that very entertaining.”

He laughed, and seemingly agreed with your statement.

Was this going in a direction where he'd let you go take the exam? With how adamant he was on you not being able to handle it, it was hard to think that would be a possibility.

And as much as you'd rather not do it, you did technically have a plan B if things were to escalate, though the thought of going through with it scared you even more.

You'd never heard of it happening, but it seemed likely that a civilian could get into a lot of trouble if they managed to kill a Hunter.

“It's been some time since I've seen you so determined about something, pet. I can't help but be intrigued about why you want to take the exam so badly,” Hisoka said.

You didn't respond. And in the moments after, it seemed that he had come to a decision.

“Since we seem to be at something of an impasse, how about this: if you can land a single hit on me, I'll take you to the true starting point of the exam.”

“Land a hit?” you repeated.

Hisoka nodded, adding “you can attack me for as long as you like, and it'll only end when you choose to give up. Or if you take so long that you can no longer be part of the exam, though I doubt you'd be able to hold out that long.”

He smiled then, asking “how does that sound, pet?”

The smart reaction would've been to refuse. You'd seen the videos from Heavens Arena – you knew how brutal he could be when it came to beating down opponents. Hisoka was strong. Far, far stronger than you. A true one-on-one fight between you two would be extremely one-sided and end quickly.

But if you wanted that Hunter's license, you needed to be a little tough, right?

For that reason, when you spoke next it was to ask a question.

“What kind of hit are we talking about?”

Hisoka seemed a bit surprised, given the way his eyebrows lifted some when you finished speaking. But he got over his surprise quickly and the grin on his face that formed after was one of excitement.

You didn't comment on that as you added “can it only be a punch? Or am I allowed the use of a weapon?”

“Any attack will count, as long as it lands. Weapons are allowed,” he replied.

“And what about you?” you asked, “if you get a hit in on me, does the fight end then?”

“Of course not,” Hisoka answered, smiling pleasantly as he said “it would be over too quickly if we did that.”

Disregarding the obvious provocation, you were about to agree to his terms when he spoke again.

“And one more thing,” he said, “when you give up, you'll need to tell me why you want the license so bad.”

“…. Fine,” you replied.

But I'm not giving up, you added in your head.

With a deal now in place, Hisoka made his way down the steps and into the open space, stopping a short distance in front of you. With his hands on his hips and an amused look on his face, he told you “whenever you're ready, pet.”

As soon as he said that you launched yourself at him.

You tried to punch him in the face but found your fist punching at the air, the clown taking a step back to avoid the hit.

You threw another punch, and that also ended in you hitting air as he took another step back.

When you threw a third punch was when he acted, stepping to the side instead of straight back. His foot then caught your heel, and because of how unbalanced you were, when he pulled his leg up, your leg went up with it and you fell backwards. In the split second you had, you clenched your eyes shut as you anticipated the impact from falling onto the cobblestone.

Instead an arm caught you.

You opened your eyes to see Hisoka hovering over you, his arm beneath your back as he held you up. He smiled at you, humming cheerfully when he saw you looking at him. He acted like you weren't trying to attack him and that the two of you were sharing a cute moment.

Asshole

When you tried to get a punch in from that position, Hisoka dropped you, and you let out a noise of pain when your back connected with the pavement. He stayed where he was, standing over you while you were in a rush to get yourself back to your feet. You were struggling, and of course the bastard needed to make some comment in that moment.

“I suppose that isn't enough to convince you to give up, is it?”

Still not on your feet, you tried to punch one of his legs.

He stepped backwards again, chuckling to himself as he said “guess not.”

The sun was steadily setting as the two of you continued like that; you, trying your best to get even the weakest punch or kick to connect with him, and Hisoka expertly dodging everything you threw at him with the barest amount of effort. At one point you grabbed one of the wooden boards that lay next to the trash can and used it as a bat, only for him to wrench it out of your grip with one hand and then throw it against the adjacent wall where it smashed into splinters.

Though you hadn't been expecting much when you grabbed it, there was something disheartening about that moment.

He was just too strong, too skilled.

But, you reminded yourself, he was also too smug for his own good.

And as the amount of time the two of you were at this increased and you refused to give in, you told yourself to just keep at it. You didn't need to be stronger than him to get lucky and get in just one hit. You just needed to wait for an opportunity when his guard was lowered enough that you could strike him with the knife that was still hidden in your hoodie pocket.

If you were able to do that, your problems would be over.

That moment felt like it would be coming when you had paused on your assault, hands on your knees and breathing hard while you glared at him. During this time, Hisoka pulled his card deck out again and was making a show of shuffling them, just to further express how little he was worried about you managing to do anything to him. Another slight towards you.

“It is cute how determined you are to win this, pet,” he said, “but you can't get through everything in life on determination alone.”

“Cool. I'll keep that in mind,” you breathed out.

You lunged at him again, this time at a speed far slower than when you had first attacked him.

He dodged it easily, and you collapsed to the ground after, still breathing hard.

At that, Hisoka frowned.

“Even I'm starting to feel bad about this. You should give up now,” he told you.

“I don't want to,” you stubbornly answered.

He hummed as you forced yourself back up to your feet.

A few more times you tried to connect any sort of hit, and a few more times your attempts resulted in nothing. Hisoka would always get out of way at the last moment, having put his cards away again. However, now the clown appeared to be less smug and more thoughtful.

Minutes later and you were on the ground again, your arms holding you up while various parts of your body were aching in pain from how often he had caused you to fall. It didn't feel like you'd be able to get up again.

Hisoka seemed to sense that as well.

His heels echoed within the space of the alley as he walked towards you, and then he was standing in front of you, looking down as he asked “don't you think you should stop wasting both of our times and put an end to this?”

“Fuck you,” you hissed.

“Aw.”

The bastard then had the nerve to kneel down and pull you into his arms, holding you close as one hand began to caress your head. It was yet another way he humiliated you, the way he would act caring at a time like this, belittling you as he made it clear just how little of a threat he viewed you to be.

“There's no shame in giving up, pet,” he whispered to you, “I won't judge you for it.”

All you were able to get out in that moment was a sad-sounding noise, one that had him cooing at you despite how you were able to hear the smirk on his lips.

You just hoped to god that he couldn't tell how hard your heart was pounding at that moment.

When he pulled you up into his embrace, you had used that as an opportunity to move your hand back to your hoodie pocket, and now you were gripping the hilt of the knife.

You didn't even need to fully stab him with it.

Just one scratch would be enough to do him in.

Just one scratch.

You acted when he spoke next, when he said something else about you giving up. This was your best chance.

Grabbing at his shirt with your free hand, you pulled the knife out from its sheath and your pocket and aimed for his side.

Just one-

A hand gripped your wrist and you were forced to your feet as you were pulled upwards by your arm. Suddenly you and Hisoka were now standing and he was holding your arm high enough that you needed to stay on your toes to try and alleviate the pain the position brought you. The knife was still in your grip. You tried to pull your wrist out of his grip, letting out a small noise of discomfort when you failed to do so.

Hisoka didn't acknowledge that, his eyes focused on the knife in your hand.

“Is that a Ben's knife?”

You didn't respond to his question as you continued to pull at your wrist.

This can't happen. He can't win.

Not again

When you failed to reply, Hisoka raised up his hand and pointed a finger at the blade of your knife.

Then he flicked his finger back and the knife was wrenched out of your grip as it flew towards him. He easily caught it, holding it up so as to inspect the design of the blade. And now that your backup plan was literally in his hands, you stilled, uncertain as to what was going to happen now.

“I'm not terribly familiar with these,” he said, “but would I be right if I were to guess that this was one of the knives that has poison on the blade?”

You frowned, and he hummed, looking back to the knife with some amusement.

“You must've spent a lot on this; I know enough about those knives to know that the poison-edged blades aren't cheap,” he added.

Hisoka smirked as he asked “are you that desperate to be rid of me that you want to kill me, pet?”

“How the fuck can you ask that after everything you've done?” you spat.

“Is showing you affection such a terrible crime?”

“That's not affection, you freak! That's just you ruining my life!”

He hummed again, and then let go of your wrist.

Right at that moment Hisoka moved.

And then something rammed into your ribs.

You were sent flying a few feet before you toppled to the ground, your side aching while you gasped for breath. The pain you had felt before this was nothing now, and as you tried to go over what had happened mere seconds ago in your head, the best you were able to guess was that he'd rammed his knee into your side.

Just how much damage had he managed to cause with that?

Your hand instinctively went to press against the area where you'd been hit, and you cried out the instant you pressed down on it. He had broken your ribs. You were sure of it, and the pain was great enough that tears were already starting to run down your face.

Hisoka stayed where he was, the Ben's knife still in hand as he watched you, taking in your cries of pain and how hard you fought against the tears that were falling, obsessively wiping them from your eyes while you struggled to get back to your feet. You were so desperate to not appear weak that all you were doing was hurting yourself. So desperate to fight him that all you were doing was delaying the inevitable.

He couldn't help but smile at the sight.

You noticed when he walked towards you, the heels of his shoes clacking against the cobblestone beneath his feet. Wanting some distance between you two again, you tried to pull yourself up and away from him, but the pain that burst through your side when you tried to move like that forced you back down.

He stayed standing this time, cocking his head to the side as he looked down at you.

“Like I told you earlier; it would be over too quickly if I were to fight you for real,” he said, “I hope you realize now that I wasn't saying that as a slight; there's simply too much of a difference in strength when it comes to the two of us.”

He chose to emphasize that point by pressing the heel of his shoe into the spot where he'd hit you, and from that bit of contact alone you felt the pain was great enough that you might pass out. It was a mercy when he pulled his foot away.

But now you were forced to face the grim reality:

You had lost.

Once again, your efforts to get yourself away from this man were in vain, and once again, you were at his feet, on the ground and sobbing as despair took over you.

You hated this.

It wasn't right.

You hated him, and you hated the people who sat back and let him do as he pleased.

If only the stupid Hunter association hadn't given this psychopath a license, you would've been able to get help.

You looked back up to him then, and found that he was still staring at you with that amused look while he loosely gripped the handle of the Ben's knife.

“Well, pet? How long do you intend to drag this out for?” he asked.

…..

… Ah. Right.

This would only end when you hit him or gave up. And it was incredibly clear that you wouldn't be able to land any sort of hit. Even if you could, you wouldn't be able to handle the Hunter exam after. Not with the condition you were in now.

Hisoka was sticking to the deal you'd made, and he wouldn't be doing anything until you gave the word.

“……. Alright,” you whispered.

“Alright what?”

“I give up,” you spoke, your voice even softer.

“Could you speak up louder? I can't quite hear you,” he told you.

You gritted your teeth in frustration, but you complied anyway.

“I give up,” you answered, adding “I can't hit you, so I give up. You win. Again.”

You didn't need to look at him to know how he was grinning at you in that moment. How wide that smile was across his face as he looked down at your fallen form, watching excitedly as your determination to win broke into a million pieces and was replaced with bleak resignation.

Just like the other times.

“I'm so glad you saw reason, pet.”

With that, Hisoka picked you up from off the ground and placed a kiss on your forehead after you cried out from the pain yet again.

“Lets get you to a doctor, and then we'll head home,” he told you as he began to carry you up the stairs and out of the alley.

Hours later, after a long hospital visit that had lasted well into the dead of night, the two of you were alone again, this time trapped in the confines of an airship cabin. You aimlessly watched the tops of the clouds through the window while you did your best to ignore how close Hisoka was sitting next to you. At first there had been a small bit of hope that he might not crowd you too much, given that this was the first time he had ever hurt you in a way that required a trip to the hospital after. But even with the state of your ribs – that had somehow only been fractured and not broken – Hisoka was determined to cuddle with you and stroke your hair during the long flight back.

Eventually you pushed his hand away, though that did little to stop him from bothering you.

“Sulking isn't very becoming of you,” he said.

“You cracked my ribs,” you answered flatly.

“And you tried to murder me,” he replied, “I'd say that makes us even.”

“Not really,” you said, “not after all you've done.”

“So saving your life counts for nothing?”

“I wouldn't have needed to be saved if you had just left me alone. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you,” you snapped.

“Oh?”

His hand returned to your hair, but when you tried to slap it away again, he grabbed your hand and held it while he did as he pleased with your hair. You huffed, but kept your attention on the darkened sky outside.

“That reminds me – you still haven't completed your end of the bargain,” he then said.

“What part of it?”

“You were supposed to tell me why you wanted the Hunter license.”

“…..”

When you didn't reply, Hisoka let out a soft sigh.

And then the hand that was stroking your hair was now gripping it. Hard. Your head was pulled back while he whispered “there's been so much needless pain today, pet. Do you really want to go through even more just because you don't want to answer my question?”

“…. No.”

He released the grip on your hair when you said that, and you sensed the way he stared at you expectantly.

No, there was no more point in continuing to defy him just to end up going to another hospital once the flight was over.

Better to give him what he wanted.

“I wanted the license so I could protect myself from you,” you told him.

At first he said nothing to your admission, and when he did, there was a tinge of confusion in his voice as he asked “what do you mean?”

“Hunters aren't allowed to kill other Hunters,” you began, “and although it isn't written anywhere, I figured that Hunters couldn't kidnap other Hunters, either.”

He understood what you were getting at then, and he chuckled to himself as he said “scared that I'm going to do something to you, pet?”

“Outside of everything else you've done to me? Yeah,” you replied.

You kept your gaze on the clouds outside the window as you added “if I had the license whenever you kidnap or kill me, at least then the association wouldn't be allowed to ignore it. If they're happy to protect you whenever you break the law, they should be fine with protecting me when I haven't done anything wrong.”

Your voice was trembling slightly when that last bit of your sentence came out, your mind going back to all the things that Hisoka had done to you and how no one would do anything about it.

It wasn't right.

Hisoka had made both his presence and his interest in you known early on, almost immediately after you met him for the first time. He had tried to win you over with flowers and gifts for a short while, and when that didn't work, he resorted to forcing his way into your life.

That horrible day where you'd found him in your bedroom, where he had managed to pull you towards him when you tried to run – something that you still couldn't wrap your head around – that had been the start of a long, stressful night that made you want to cry just thinking about it.

When he left in the morning, you'd called the police. Though there was little they could do in that moment, they took your statement and told you to call them if you saw him again.

You followed their instructions and did just that when he returned that next evening, waltzing in through the front door like he owned the place.

The moment where Hisoka had a pair of handcuffs slapped on him and was led away never came. Because when the officers that arrived approached him, all he'd needed to do was show them that Hunter's license and they stopped in their tracks. When they left shortly after, the only explanation that they gave was that they couldn't do anything for you.

So you spent a second night with Hisoka, this time even more confused and horrified at the lack of help that you needed so desperately.

Hunters get special privileges, you learned. Access to exorbitant amounts of jenny, an ability to travel to almost anywhere in the world, and no real consequences if they committed a murder.

Learning that last point had things make a bit more sense to you, because if law enforcement were willing to brush off a Hunter killing someone, then it was no wonder why they would do nothing for you, someone who was 'just' at the mercy of a stalker.

You weren't dead, so they didn't see it as even being that bad.

Calls to any and all lines of help resulted in nothing being done. You would cry and beg for anyone to help you, even getting down on your knees and debasing yourself as you pleaded to be saved from the man who had now forced his way into your life, and all you got in return was uncomfortable silence that was usually followed by a short “sorry”.

The police didn't come around anymore. Your employer let you go. The neighbors didn't talk to you. And when one of your friends wound up missing after having tried to defend you from him, everyone else had cut you off, too scared that just being in your presence would set off your stalker and they would also end up on the missing persons list.

All you had was Hisoka, who was always there to revel in your despair by holding you close.

There wasn't much else you could do but try to act like it wasn't as distressing as it actually was, leading to you putting up a brave front in front of Hisoka. Maybe if you acted like you didn't care anymore, he'd lose interest and move on.

That didn't work, and so you were forced to cope while you looked for any opportunity that arose for a way out.

You thought you had a chance with this – you really did. When you read up on the Hunter bylaws and you saw that Hunters weren't allowed to target each other, you thought you had a way to end all of this. Even if just getting the license wasn't enough to make Hisoka stop on his own, if he continued to do anything after that fact, then the association would have to step in.

But none of that mattered now.

This was another loss for you, another hope of escape for you that Hisoka had made sure to dash thoroughly.

And just like he always did, he was now holding you after having pulled you up against him.

“It was an interesting thought, pet,” he began, “but ultimately, you really had no idea what you were getting yourself into.”

So you keep saying, you thought to yourself.

“And wouldn't it have been a better idea to just use the knife on me instead of going to all of the extra effort to try for the exam?” he then asked.

“I wanted to avoid that, if possible,” you answered, “I wasn't sure what would happen to me if I did manage to kill you without the license.”

“Hm. Still seems like a wasted opportunity to me.”

“…. Whatever. You got all of your answers. Stop talking to me.”

“Don't be like that, pet,” he said, “after all, we have quite a few hours ahead of us before we get back home. I'd rather that we didn't spend all that time being mad at each other.”

He said that just as the hand that was holding yours let go in favor of sliding up your inner thigh.

“After all, I haven't been properly rewarded for saving your life,” he added.

The way his nails trailed up your leg combined with the way he said that sentence with such a sultry tone made it obvious as to where this was going, and your heart started to pound heavily in your chest as you realized that Hisoka was going to do what he wanted regardless of the state you were in.

“Please don't,” you began, your voice cracking as you said “not now. Not like this. I-I can't-”

“You'll be fine.”

Hisoka emphasized that by shoving his hand down the front of your pants, his fingers blatantly rubbing up against your sex.

Despite knowing what would happen, you tried to elbow him in the face in an effort to make him stop, only for both of your wrists to suddenly snap together. And no matter how hard you tried to pull them away, something invisible was keeping your wrists bound together.

Just like that, you were completely helpless.

With one hand still in your hair, Hisoka moved your head and forced you to look at him.

You were crying again.

And Hisoka looked even more excited.

“I truly can't get over it, pet,” he breathed, claiming your lips in a kiss after.

“There's nothing quite like the despair in your eyes when you've realized that you have no other choice but to give in.”

#reader insert #yandere x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere #yandere hxh #hxh hisoka #hisoka morow #hisoka x reader #yandere hisoka

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collapsedsquid · 6 months ago

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The Dali - a 948ft (289m) container ship - was at the start of a 27-day journey from Baltimore to Sri Lanka when it struck the Francis Scott Key Bridge, sending thousands of tonnes of steel and cement into the Patapsco. It left the ship stranded under a massive expanse of shredded metal. [...] The crew, made up of 20 Indians and a Sri Lankan national, has been unable to disembark because of visa restrictions, a lack of required shore passes and parallel ongoing investigations by the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) and FBI. On Monday, the crew remained on board even as authorities used small explosive charges to deliberately "cut" an expanse of the bridge lying on the ship's bow. Ahead of the controlled demolition, US Coast Guard Admiral Shannon Gilreath said that the crew would remain below deck with a fire crew at the ready. "They're part of the ship. They are necessary to keep the ship staffed and operational," Adm Gilreath said. "They're the best responders on board the ship themselves."

[...] According to Mr Messick, the crew has been left largely without communication with the outside world for "a couple of weeks" after their mobile phones were confiscated by the FBI as part of the investigation. "They can't do any online banking. They can't pay their bills at home. They don't have any of their data or anyone's contact information, so they're really isolated right now," Mr Messick said. "They just can't reach out to the folks they need to, or even look at pictures of their children before they go to sleep. It's really a sad situation."

The Beached Dutchman, stuck forever at a foreign port but never able to step off

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thisblogisaboutabook · 11 months ago

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Cowboy Like Me - Part 1

Azriel x Reader

Azriel meets his match in a contract spy while attending a barge party in the Summer Court. Together, they are tasked to investigate rogue shipments coming into Prythian. Will they be able to tolerate each other? Will they fall in love along the way?

Inspired by the queens of my heart, Taylor Swift and Sarah J. Maas.

Part 2

Warnings: Language and some suggestiveness.

These functions were odious. Hundreds of elite fae from throughout Prythian gathering to spread gossip, exaggerate how deeply their coffers ran, and boast of their latest voyeurs in both the sheets and battlefields. Yet, amidst all of the cock measuring, bits of truth revealed themselves to those with the proper skill set. So yes, while odious indeed, a lucrative affair for me.

Tonight I’d found myself aboard a pleasure barge on the Adriatic Sea. Several High Lords accepted Tarquin’s invitation to a summer soirée honoring some milestone birthday of Cresseida’s. I couldn’t remember her age, I didn’t care honestly. The information I sought was of a more confidential manner.

Whenever any High Lords made their appearance at such gatherings, nobility from their respective courts came out in droves in hopes of rubbing elbows with the upper cress of their kingdoms. Minor lords sought advantageous matches for their heirs, esteemed merchants networked to expand trade routes, tittering courtiers cozied up to nobility in an effort to advance whichever cause they were pursuing that night.

A well-trained ear and eye lusted for occasions such as this. Those Minor Lords so easily letting details slip of their needs, allowing a glean of where their courts higher nobility were failing them. The merchants whispering confidential details of questionable consignments slipped in with their usual fare.

And the courtiers, it was too simple to read in between the lines of their oh-so-cryptic conversations. The courtiers of lesser nobility who hadn’t yet mastered the art of subtlety were easy to read, even easier to trade gossip with.

My glamour skills were exceptional. Some would call the statement arrogant, but it was truth. On top of my assets as a spy, my ability to work my way into high profile events with subtle changes to my hair, eyes, and scent made spying a lucrative profession.

A contact from Adriata’s Port Authority had contracted my services for tonight. A shipment of jewels, spices, and varying textiles procured from the continent had arrived days ago with fake gems, missing rolls of fine silk, and poison laced spices that had been set aside for the royal kitchens. I’d been tasked with garnering any information that may lead to the perpetrators.

Initially it was suspected that the act had occurred before leaving the port of origin. However, Tarquin’s own contacts had accounted for everything at the port and again halfway through sailing. I had my suspicions of who was behind the act which led me to my current position, pretending to be engaged in conversation with the pompous son of some Minor Lord from Dawn.

Honestly, how many “Oh”, “Wow”, and “That’s very interesting”’s could I throw into the conversation before he realized I wasn’t paying attention.

Yet, what I saw behind the male was quite interesting. Eris Vanserra making a rare Autumn Court appearance, far too casually winding through the crowd toward the High Lord of the Night Court as the lovely High Lady shared an animated story about, “Water Wolves”, whatever those were. The story just interesting enough to garner the attention of the surrounding audience long enough for the High Lord to stride off to a more secluded area toward the bow of the ship. The same place Eris had conveniently found himself at.

Feigning ill, I excused myself from the one-sided conversation. Quickly, I glamoured myself to look a bit more pale, and padded toward the bow. Fortunately there was a blind spot within earshot perfectly hidden by a few crates of spare items for the night should any dishwear or wines run out from the various tables spread around the barge. Keeping up my ruse I leaned over the rail, quietly dry heaving.

“All I’m saying is watch your shipments. An influx of boats have been reported leaving our ports recently. He’s up to something.” Eris’ hushed voice warned.

Oh, this was very interesting. Autumn’s heir apparent heeding warning to the Night Court.

The High Lord’s voice lowly inquired, “Do you know wh-“

The atmosphere suddenly turned dark as shadows swirled next to me. Raising from his perched position in the dark stood the High Lord’s spymaster.

Shit.

“Did the oaf you were speaking with bore you to sickness or is this washed out complexion a new glamour?”

Shit!

“People are staring, Shadowsinger. Are you going to ask me to dance or should we make a spectacle of ourselves?” I smirked cooly. Unsure of how I managed to pull off the collected facade in the face of the feared, and…. devastatingly gorgeous? Spymaster of the Night Court.

He smirked - a deadly, seductive smirk, extending his hand. This was a dangerous game. “My lady, honor me with a dance?”

I stepped toward him, aware of every weapon carefully placed underneath my silken cobalt blue dress. His shadows keenly aware of them too as they swirled around the location of each hidden sheath.

Oh, they were good.

His fingers gripped tightly atop the most easily accessible of my daggers, firmly pressed to my waist as a herringbone corset would be. His opposite hand gripped mine just tightly enough that it couldn’t slip free.

“You know, beautiful, it seems you’ve got a couple of weapons under your dress. You’re quite the double threat.” his face remained relaxed but those hazel eyes promised strife if I didn’t comply.

They stepped in rhythm to the Summer Court medley that played “It takes one to know one, handsome.”

He twirled me outward and pulled me back in before I could dare consider escaping. “I’m protecting my High Lord. Weapons come with the territory. Who are you serving?”

I batted my eyes innocently “I’ll serve you if you ask politely.”

I could have sworn the slightest shift in scent invaded my senses, “Ah, but you’re not a courtier, darling. You’re a spy. And I don’t take kindly to spies listening in on my courts affairs.”,

“Luckily for me, our interests seem to align.” I countered.

He dipped me back just in time to lock stares with the High Lord, stars twinkling in his eyes as he looked down at me, “Ah, brother. Who is your lovely dance partner?”

Once again,

Shit.

And then everything went black as we winnowed.

~~~~~~~~

“Welcome to the Hewn City - My name is Azriel. Care to share your name?”

“Elyse.” I lied.

Azriel stepped forward, “No dear, I don’t believe it is. Let’s not get off on a worse foot than we already have.”

I rolled my eyes. Fine. “Y/N.”

Good girl. He purred. The heat that pooled in my core at his tone was pathetic. Traitorous body.

“Why were you spying on Rhysand?”

I was a spy for hire. Being tortured in the name of Adriata’s Port Authority was not how I was going down. So I told him the truth.

“Adriata received a shipment with stolen goods and poison laced spices. I was simply seeking information on the matter.”

“And you felt that my High Lord was involved?”

I scoffed. “No, not exactly. While your High Lord is rather cunning, he’s not one to risk sparking a Civil War. Especially against his own ally.” I looked intently to the Spymaster with a smirk, “That bastard Eris Vanserra on the other hand…”

I could have sworn amusement briefly flashed in his eyes at the statement as he sat before me. “I’ve seen you at several functions recently. You are sly, I’ll give you that. But you have tells. The way your eyes wander off of those you are in conversation with. The slight lies you give the courtiers in an effort to bring their guard down and let information slip. Your glamours are excellent but not enough to disguise you once you’ve been spotted.”

Confusion swirled in my brain at this tactic. Certainly the willingness to share was an effort of bringing my guard down.

I stiffened. “Why are you telling me this?”

He raised an eyebrow “You shared information with me, I am simply returning the favor.”

“How generous of you , Azriel.” My tone was sharp. But his name… Oh how it tasted like honey on my tongue.

He shrugged. “This doesn’t have to be hard. Despite what you may have heard about me, I am a reasonable male. From what I’ve seen, up until tonight, you’ve never been a threat to those I’m allied with.”

I relaxed a bit at the statement. “You’ve watched me that closely?”

“What kind of spymaster would I be to not keep tabs on potential enemy spies?”

“I am not your enemy, Azriel.” Damn my tone for coming out so softly.

He looked at me earnestly, “I know.”

“Then why am I here?”

His gaze once again shifted to that of the infamous spymaster, “I want you to work with me.”

——————————————————————————

Thank you to everyone who voted in my poll and/or took the time to read this! I hope to post Part 2 this week. Stay tuned!

#cowboy like me #taylor swift #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #x reader #sarah j maas #fanfic #fanfiction #a court of frost and starlight #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #feyre archeron #night court #summer court

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albatris · 11 months ago

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Since it's come to my attention a lot of folks don't know ATDAO....... here's an intro post :3c

All the Doors are Open! A funky lil sci-fi-ish, fantasy-ish, horror-ish tale about some South Australian kids going about their daily lives... oh, and also reality is collapsing and cracks between universes called Ports are appearing, letting otherworldly energy leak through and wreak havoc.

Four plotlines intertwine into one big stupid plotline, n the key players are as follows:

Tris Greer, panic attack in human form, who just witnessed a freak car accident that somehow caused his older brother to blip out of existence. The relevant authorities prove supremely unhelpful, so he takes it upon himself to find the truth and bring his brother home, even if it means a daring trip into an unstable air bubble between dimensions - a task easier said than done when he’s anxious enough just leaving the house.

Yun Sung-won, edgy intimidating badass hiding nooo insecurities or trauma whatsoever, who can suddenly bend and break the reality around her the same way Ports do. The shiny new destructive powers might be kinda cool - if the crack in reality inside her wasn’t chaotically deteriorating... and if she didn’t work for the Department of Interdimensional Instabilities, whose whole shtick is eliminating dangerous interdimensional energies.

Shara Aleng, conspiracy enthusiast and amateur paranormal investigator, who's new in town and on a mission. She's been able to see cracks in reality no one else notices since she was a kid, and, armed with just a handheld radio, she's mapping interdimensional fault lines and hunting down the source of the apocalypse.

Kai Lancaster, peddler of haunted antiques and mender of cracks in reality, who went to investigate an abandoned house for an hour and emerged to find seven years had passed. They're now grappling with the emotional and social repercussions of their trip out of time, having been tossed into a life that's moved on without them. And how can they try and re-enter their family's lives when their family has spent seven years grieving them and fighting to get back to any sense of normality?

Anyway. It's a cheesy power of friendship story about the human capacity for kindness and connection! It’s also full of horrifying things that will make your skin crawl <3 We got existential horror, we got body horror, we got cosmic horror... we got love and courage and joy in the face of despair! Also, we got mentally ill heroes, including one with psychosis and one with a dissociative disorder, whose experiences are never demonised or used as cheap plot twists :3

Here is the them:

I'm not posting much about it at the moment but it's my longest-standing WIP and very close to my heart :D I've been working on some version of it since I was 16! Lemme know at any time if you wanna be added to the tag list~ I can't guarantee I'll work on it soon but I CAN guarantee I'll work on it sometime!

#atdao #writeblr #I'm doing a complete overhaul of the plot #i think maybe an equal delve into all four povs which is gonna be a lot of work but fhdjskdj doable maybe

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 7 months ago

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Kouyou Ozaki (self-aware)

Self-Aware! Kouyou Ozaki x GN! Reader

Warning: OOC. Yandere. Koyouou wanted to do some damage to Reader. English is my second language. Some slight spoilers.

Becoming self-aware

🌂 With self-awareness came hatred. And Kouyou Ozaki can't tell exactly, at whom her hate were directed to.

🌂 Was she mad at author, for putting them through the pain? Was she angry, because her "life" was the way it "was", because Author thought, sad backstory will make... readers... pity the character..? Was she angry at readers for liking tragic backstories? And what about Kyouka? What she did do deserve such treatment?

🌂 Kouyou can't tell for sure. Every time she tried to make some sort of scene out of her feelings or thoughts, they go awry, and Kouyou will get a headache, boiling anger and no answers.

🌂Nevertheless, Koyou just can't sit here, mopping all day... night... Whatever time was in this wrenched place. She must help other Port Mafia members. And Kyouka.

🌂 Despite the situation, Mori tried to keep his head cool, Kouyou can give him that. The idea of patrolling the city in pairs were good. She and Kajii were tusked to patrol the borders of Yokohama. Maybe, they could find a way out of the city.

🌂 There was something else. Not only hate. Hope. Hope of a mad person.

🌂 Maybe, it's just a cruel ability, that took over Yokohama's citizens? Maybe, if they find a way to escape Yokohama, the life will be back to normal? They will only need to kill perpetrator, and life will be back to normal. To normal real lives of normal real people.

🌂 If Koyou could, she would pray. Pray for an ability user, who took over Yokohama with their ability. For someone, they could reach. For someone, her Golden Demon could stab.

🌂 But then, Hirotsu and Chuuya brought news. Armed Detective Agency, including Dazai also were self-aware.

🌂 Of course, Koyou could pretend, that Dazai wasn't real, that he was a doll, an illusion. Just a tool to mess with everyone's brains. But, Kouyou knew, that it's not true.

🌂There is an ability user. Yokohama isn't under ability's effect.

🌂 And Kouyou Ozaki, Port Mafia Executive, "Golden Demon" ability user was created only for someone's entertainment.

🌂 But, there was also good news. Kyouka was... fine. According to Dazai, Ranpo, that detective, asked her to be his assistant, while he was investigating current situation. Kouyou was happy about that.

🌂 Illusion might be broken, world is big fake, but, right here and now, Kouyou Ozaki exists. And she has duty to fulfill.

🌂 And then, she felt entity's gaze on her.

_________

She and Kajii were paroling borders of Yokohama again.

Kouyou Ozaki felt both irritated and nervous. The world outside of Yokohama was even... emptier.

The closest metaphor Kouyou could find, is drawing of a forest, made by kindergartener, who didn't know about animals existence.

Wilderness outside Yokohama was empty. No animals, no birds, no insects. Even trees were limited. It looked like a park, not an inhabitant area.

And it was flat. No hills, no complete roads.

The river and road lead to nothing. They just... stopped. Like someone cut them.

And beyond that only empty sea of green grass with rare trees existed.

That's why that unblinking gaze in the sky made Kouyou nervous. It was natural fear. Fear of being stalked by someone, while being far away from safety.

But, irritation still was Kouyou main emotion towards that entity.

Kouyou knew what it was. Who they were.

Reader. A single one, Kouyou was about that. Another of that people, who wanted drama. Who wanted to see sad backstories.

Looking from afar. In the security of their real lives. Of their real world.

Oh, how Kouyou wanted to blind that Reader up above.

She wasn't the only one, who had that idea. Some time ago Chuuya said to her, that he dreams about the day he could show that person, how powerful his ability is. They will feel it on their own skin.

And then, time resets.

And Kouyou, once again, was tasked to look after fifteen-year-old Chuuya Nakahara, who has just joined Port Mafia.

__________

When they start feeling your presence

🌂 The shock of sudden time travel still was fresh in her mind, when Chuuya's words delivered the second shocking hit.

"Ane-san... I think, we were mistaking about... them... They are"... Chuuya thought carefully about his next words. "... seems not that bad."

Chuuya grinned for a second.

"And they knew, when to start playing good rock song."

🌂 Kouyou wasn't sure, what to say about it. Chuuya wasn't the one, who would change his opinion that easy. What happened between him and Reader?

🌂 And why she was hearing a laughter during Chuuya's and Dazai's bickering? Very soft and nice laughter.

🌂 Next time travel was felt worse. Because Kouyou woke up in the middle of the fight with Verlaine. But, something was off. King of Assassins was looking at something above his head. He wasn't paying attention to the battle.

🌂 After the battle, Chuuya was mumbling something with a smile on his face. And he was looking at something above his head.

🌂 And when Port Mafia found Verlaine, he was looking before him with a faint smile on his face. He was whispering.

"Perhaps, one day, we will meet. And I will show my gratitude for you... Little Light."

🌂 Kouyou could swear, that for one moment, she saw a shapeless blob, floating before Verlaine.

🌂 Another reset. This time, Kouyou and Mori was discussing Kyouka. And two new things appeared. First, a blinking blob of light, that appeared and disappeared from time to time. And a voice, coming from up above.

Pretty [||||||||||] her [|||||||||||] kimono.

🌂 A surprisingly kind smile appeared on Mori's face.

"Oh, so you finally can see Little Light, Kouyou-kun? Aren't they adorable?"

🌂 Kouyou didn't answer Mori's question, choosing to met with Kyouka. He heard, that Port Mafia and ADA were negotiating about creating a union. To get to the Real World. And met with Guiding Light.

🌂 Kouyou guessed, that Guiding Light were Reader. What happened while she was away? For a moment, Kouyou felt irritated. Why she wasn't included in more events? She wanted to know more about sudden change of hearts about Reader.

🌂 Kouyou didn't call Kyouka's cellphone that time. She only wanted to make sure, that she is alright. Nakajima can be free, for now.

🌂 Kyouka and Atsushi were at the same spot, Kouyou found them last? time. Atsushi was talking about something with Kyouka. Kouyou could hear some words he has spoken.

"them" "good" "will like" "kind".

And second voice also talked.

"hope" "Kyouka" "fine"

🌂 This tome, it was a talk, not a fight. Kyouka was fine. And, she really wanted to hear something from Guiding Light. Were Guiding Light hypnotizing people? Kouyou didn't know why, but she repeated that words, she told Kyouka the last time.

_________

"Listen to me, Kyōka. I know how you feel. But... some things are simply impossible. No matter how much a natural-born assassin like you seeks light... A flower that blooms in the dark can survive only within the dark. If you pursue the light, its heat will burn you up in the end."

Something soft curled around her neck. And Kouyou felt a wave of warmth.

Kindness. Appreciation. Love.

"sorry" "didn't deserve" "strong"

"Kouyou, I admire you. You are such a strong woman. I don't know if I could go through, what you had to go through. But, I think, you can open up a little... They respect you. And, I don't think, they will try to betray you again. One day, even in the deepest darkness, light will shine."

And someone pet her cheek.

[*In reality, you traced your fingers along Kouyou's manga frame.*]

_______

🌂 Kouyou returned to ADA's building with Kouyou and Atsushi. Other Port Mafia members already were there. And Kouyou really need time to think about everything.

🌂 Chuuya... was right. Reader's emotions don't feel fake. And, what was important to Kouyou, Reader didn't pity her. Perhaps, Kouyou should soften up for a bit.

🌂But, one problem remains. Kyouka. Will Reader felt kindness towards Kouyou as well? If they aren't, well, Kouyou's sympathy will disappear.

🌂 Kouyou just need to wait.

________

The union finally was established, and remains of Port Mafia permanently moved to ADA's building.

Fukuzawa and Mori were discussing with Fitzgerald about Guild joining them.

That's when Kyouka wanted to talk to Kouyou eye to eye.

"They saw my past. My parents. They hugged me."

Kouyou saw a faint smile on Kyouka's face.

"Atsushi was right. They are a good person."

When Kyouka left to help Atsushi with something, Kouyou looked up. At the Little Light.

"You... Never were a bad person, right? I am glad, that I learned about it before I could do something, that would upset Kyouka. Guiding Light, when we met... let me protect you as well."

_________

🌂 Kouyou now understand, why others wanted to meet Guiding Light. And why they want to hear more from them.

🌂 If only all of them could hear Guiding Light's voice more often.

And then, one day, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.

When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan

🌂 When they got access to Scout files, Kouyou immediately gave you most of her SSR Cards.

🌂 She, and some other people, who didn't get much spotlight, asked to be first, who gives you their cards. They want your attention.

"Kouyou has so many beautiful cards"

"I wish, there was SSR Kouyou Tarot Card, SR."

"I adore Chibi Kouyou from Port Mafia base."

🌂 Kouyou is planning, how she will protect you, when she got in reality.

🌂 Kouyou is interested in Japanese culture. She took some sewing lessons online. She wants to sew something for you.

🌂 Real World, if you will be near, doesn't seem so bad. Same to hope.

_______

You got another note in your inbox.

Kouyou with Sakura flowers Stamp.

"[Y/N], I hope, you are doing well. If someone is bothering you, tell me, when we met. I will deal with them accordingly. Stay safe. Kouyou Ozaki."

You smiled and opened one of the Kouyou's cards. You pet chibi sprite.

"I am doing good, Kouyou. Thanks for your concern. No one was bothering me, but, if someone do, I will tell you. I hope, we will meet."

You didn't notice, but a smile appeared on chibi Kouyou's face.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #yandere #Self-Aware Koyouou Ozaki #Ozaki Kouyou x reader #Kouyou Ozaki x reader #BSD Koyouou x reader

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musamora · 1 year ago

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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 「𝔬𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔲 𝔡𝔞𝔷𝔞𝔦」 ༉‧₊˚

content. f!reader. unexpected first dates, bored osamu dazai is a menace, flirting, hand holding, fluff, coffee shops, café uzumaki, silly goofy dazai behavior. not proofread. 1.6k+ words.

author's note. this actually originated from a request that i accidentally mixed-up, but i only noticed when i completed writing the oneshot. so here are the results of that one! (i'm also scheduling this post for while i'm at uni, and also for the same day as the last episode of season five. how's the last episode, future me?)

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

The breeze whispered throughout every nook and cranny of the port city, hailing from the misty waters of its many rivers before permeating into the air. It blanketed pedestrians in cool afternoon gails, blessing them with the blissful beginnings of a new season as the leaves fell before them like rain. (Name) thrummed her fingers against the keys of her laptop, peering down at the passers-by through the agency office's window before tuning back into her work.

It had been a sluggish day for the agency — a hidden miracle in their busy schedules. For the past few weeks, they had been trampled with incidents that spanned the city, along with their usual run-ins with the infamous Port Mafia. However, the consequences of monotony were paperwork and lots of it. Each of her co-workers had been assigned an allotted amount of work, though some were better at getting through it than others.

Kunikida had to be the most diligent of them all, rapidly typing away at his desk with his sole focus on the articles he ciphered through — not that anyone was surprised. The week had especially rattled his routine, so he seemed most pleased to return to an orderly schedule. Atsushi tried to follow in his footsteps, though he struggled to keep up with the blonde's brisk pace. Kyoka was perched at the weretiger's side, staring in a daze at his work before mindlessly clicking at her laptop without rhyme or reason.

Naomi and Junichiro canoodled in an isolated corner, which everyone purposefully ignored like always. Loud crunches could be heard like clockwork as they echoed across the room, crumbs scattered onto the floor as Ranpo ran through his weekly snack stash, disregarding the heaps of investigation requests on his desk. Yosano hummed from the other room, polishing her metal utensils with such enthusiasm that (Name) tried not to think about it too much. Instead, she tried to focus on her work, a pep in each stroke of her pen as she raced to conclude her second stack.

However, the resident suicidal maniac did not seem as content as the rest of his co-workers, dramatically sighing from his desk. He twisted around in accelerating revolutions; his entire body crammed onto the seat with his eyes glued to the ceiling.

"I'm so bored," he muttered, strumming his bandaged hands against the arms of his chair. His fingers wandered across the desk like brittle spiders, jumping onto Kunikida's arm and crawling up towards his neck. Everyone could see the way his shoulders tensed, counting down their internal clocks until he exploded.

"This sucks! I'm so bored."

And just as Kunikida was about to crack, pivoting his head with a sneer on his lips—

"How about I take you somewhere, then?"

Dazai's attention immediately snapped towards (Name), mimicking the same attentiveness as a dog that heard the word 'treat.' He flew over with exceeding velocity, the wheels of his chair scraping against the floor as he clasped their hands together, gawking at her as if she were a goddess incarnate.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Kunikida interjected before Dazai could practically fling himself out the window, giving (Name) a pointed look. "Are you sure you can handle him? And make sure he does his work?"

She nodded, waving him off with a smile. "I'm sure."

Plopping two separate stacks of paperwork into her arms, she balanced them both in one and grabbed Dazai with the other, leading him out the door. He practically frolicked at her side, a skip in his steps as she steered him downstairs.

"Sooooo, where are we going? A bridge to stare into the shimmering sea? A sky-scraper to gaze into the setting sun? I can hardly take the anticipation!"

She smacked him with her blank stare. "Why do I feel like you'd only take the opportunity to jump rather than do some sightseeing?"

"With you there?" he beamed. "The only sight I need before my untimely demise is you, my dear."

She scoffed, hiding the quirk of her lips as she turned away from him. "Pft—yeah, okay."

His eyes shimmered as they exited the building, only for her to drag him into a very familiar doorway, the scent of coffee striking his nostrils. He crossed his arms, a boyish pout on his face.

"The café. Really?"

She only grinned from ear to ear, hiding the shake in her shoulders. "You complained about being bored. Here's your change of scenery."

"How unfair," he groaned as he dragged himself over to their usual table, catching the attention of the café owner and his wife, the latter of which strolled over, a smile settled on her face.

"What can I get you two?"

"Hmmm." (Name) pondered as she glanced over the drink menu. She was momentarily tempted to streamline towards adventurous today, dabbling into something she never had before, but instead decided to go with her usual. "I'll have a cortado."

The owner's wife nodded before she turned to Dazai, who was completely uninterested in the entire exchange. "I guess I'll have an espresso."

The woman took their order, though her happy expression had narrowed into a frown. She bent over, careful not to disturb the brunette who slumped down in his seat and fixated on the sights outside.

"Is he okay? He's not acting like his usual, charming self."

(Name) nodded, if only to reassure the sweet lady, but couldn't help her own confusion over his withdrawal and disinterest. He never missed an opportunity to flirt with women, even in the worst of moods. Her eyes traced over his uncharacteristic stillness, scrutinizing him.

"You okay, Dazai?"

He glanced up, resting his head against the table. "Hmm? Yeah, why?"

"You're just not acting like yourself."

He raised a brow. "How so?"

She refrained from responding, not quite sure how to, messing with her fingers as her mind racked for a coherent reply. For some reason, she felt herself struggling despite her usual witt, unable to pinpoint her confusion.

"Well, you didn't flirt with the waitress."

He stared into her eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time, an unreadable gleam reflected in his own as his spine straightened, taking her hand into his own. She stiffed as his fingers worked through the aching muscles of her palm, his diligence a stark contrast to his sloth-like behavior.

"Did you want me to flirt with the waitress?"

"I-I," she stuttered, not expecting to be caught off-guard by such a random question — she should've seen that coming; bamboozling her was one of Dazai's favorite pastimes. She attempted to scramble through her thoughts, becoming mildly frustrated as his laughter peaked through her mutters, giving up with a groan.

"Just do your work."

The café became quiet as she returned to the monotony of sorting through papers; only the mellow clinks of the owner's painstaking coffee creation process and the gentle hum of the occasional cars could be heard. She continued to write, heartened by the stunning scenery of the season and setting, able to sign a couple of papers before she began to recognize a tapping sound. It started soft at first, almost unnoticeable. However, it grew in rhythm and volume, shaking the table like sticks on a snare drum. Then, the humming began, followed quickly by grating, off-pitch singing.

"You can't do a double suicide~"

She was about to intrude upon his solo concert when the owner's wife interrupted them, setting their drinks on the table with a curt smile. (Name) returned it with relieved earnestness, letting out a small 'thank you' before she brought the drink to her lips. She released a pleased hum, the soothing taste of steamed milk sliding down her throat and easing her muscles. When she looked up from it at Dazai, she had, for some reason, expected him to do the same.

However, the sight she was met with was unholy. The man had resorted to filtering several packets of sugar and sweetener into the drink, effectively ruining it as it soaked up like a sponge, like a monstrous coffee-cereal concoction.

"Why aren't you doing your paperwork?" she whined.

He took a spoonful of the drink, shoving it into his mouth as he swallowed with wide eyes, vibrating in his seat as the disgusting notes trampled on his tongue. His scrunched face honestly reminded her of a pissed-off cat, and she had to physically refrain from laughing at him as he slowly settled down.

"Cause we're on a date." It was his turn to hold back the laughter as she gaped at him. "Doing work on a date is an absolute no-no."

"A-A date—?" She shot up from her seat, slamming her hands against the table and almost spilling their drinks, narrowly avoiding so as they circled in their cups. "What do you mean a date?"

He merely shrugged. "You're a stunning young woman. I'm an absolutely drop-dead bachelor. We're alone together in a coffee shop. It's a date."

"T-That doesn't mean—"

"Do you not want it to be a date?" he pouted before taking a sip of his drink, pointedly ignoring her sputtered rebuttal with only an inattentive hum.

"You know what—fine. It's a date," she relented, plopping over in his seat.

He chuckled, setting his drink down as he took her hands. "Well, if this is a date, then I have a better idea of what we should do."

It was now his turn to take her by the arm, already slinging her out the door with a devilish look that told her everything she needed to know — he had planned this all from the beginning. She yelled out her apologies to the café manager, promising to come back and pay for their drinks as she was shoved out the door. The manager only scoffed with a softened smile, his wife leaning against his arm as she sighed.

"Ahhh, to be young again."

TAGLIST: @sillyspookycat @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @ishqani

#☆.musings #f!reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai #dazai bsd

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zvaigzdelasas · 1 year ago

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Protesters demanding a cease-fire in the Israeli war in Gaza blocked a U.S. military supply ship leaving the Port of Oakland for hours Friday by locking themselves to the vessel. The protesters also blocked the entrance to Berth 20 where the container carrier Cape Orlando is moored. Protest groups say the ship is bound for Israel after being loaded with weapons and military equipment in Tacoma, Washington.

The protest was organized by the San Francisco-based Arab Resource Organizing Center. Police were at the scene of the protest which appeared to number about 200 people, many holding Palestinian flags and signs demanding an end to U.S. military aid to Israel[...]

Three Palestinian supporters were holding on to a rope ladder and refusing to let workers close a door to the military ship. A U.S. Coast Guard negotiator tried to convince them to get off the ship, but protestors refused..[...] Abushamala was one of many demonstrators that blocked a port entrance to the ship. She said she lost several relatives in the war. "One missile killed three generations. An uncle, their son, and their child," said Abushamala. "I'm enraged that our government is still sending aid, missiles to Israel."

Another Palestinian protestor, Noura Khouri, said she also lost a relative in a bombing last week. "It's literally impossible for any of us to sleep, to eat, to work, to carry on with our lives," said Khouri.

Some Jewish people also joined in the protest. "I'm here as a Jewish person, the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors. And I grew up hearing the stories of my grandmother surviving the Nazi's Holocaust, losing her entire family. And today, Israel is weaponizing my history, the history of my family that was killed, to kill Palestinian families in Gaza," said Alameda resident Anna Baltzer.

Just before 3 p.m., authorities removed the three protesters who held onto the rope ladder, and the ship made its way out of the port. Abushamala and other protestors were disappointed. They hope their action will have a lasting impact on lawmakers.

"No more U.S. military aid to Israel. It is within your power. Do not let the fear stop you," said Abushamala.[...]

According to a release from AROC, three protesters who climbed onto the vessel were detained by the U.S. Coast Guard -- the federal agency with jurisdiction on the water. As it is an ongoing investigation, Coast Guard Petty Officer Hunter Schnabel said Friday evening that he could not provide specifics but confirmed "multiple individuals are currently under investigation." The release from AROC called on "communities in cities around the country and across the world to be on alert for vessels carrying similar cargo."

3 Nov 23

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it-was-funeral-grey · 3 months ago

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Trust, where there shouldn't be (1/2) (Al Haitham x F!Reader)

Masterlist Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8(wip!)

Summary: just when things were supposed to settle down, trouble stirs again- this time, with the fate of sumeru potentially hanging in the balance.

Warnings: mention of murder, crime, getting arrested, water,

Word count: < 3.3k

Inspired by: -

Author's note: this has been in my drafts for way too long! i'm back!! this chapter is a little more kaveh and cyno centric! i hope this chapter is ok :) its been so long since i wrote- had a lot going on! i'm going to have to recall the original plot i wanted to roll with, and check up on genshin lore!

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

Usually, offences unrelated to the Akademiya were handled by the Mahamata- Sumeru's civil administration branch. To be specific, the crime division- which consists of the Corps of Thirty and the Mahamata investigation department (which overlapped with the Matra on occasion).

However, this isn't the case anymore for places outside Sumeru City. The work of the Mahamata is extremely procedure-heavy, which often translates into heavy reliance on Akasha Terminals to help speed up and manage the workload. As such, when the Akasha Terminals were shut down, what followed was nothing short of a mess. Nobody could remember what to do when faced with certain situations, and even if they did, it often was after a lot of work had piled up. Tasks like recording, which had been done solely by the Akasha Terminals, now have to be done manually (so now there's also a labour shortage in the Mahamata)- and of course, to make everything worse, all records before this have been destroyed together with the Terminals.

No one could start anything, no one could finish anything, nothing was being done; and at least from a law enforcement perspective, the growing public dissatisfaction with the whole situation- the Akademiya scandal, the current state of the nation and its administration, and the now scarily apparent increasing crime rate- is a growing threat to public order. The Mahamata is failing- or perhaps more accurately, has failed everywhere except Sumeru City, which had only survived this ordeal because Al Haitham was there to sort it out before things got out of hand.

To manage this, Al Haitham had instructed the Matra to help in regions that had seen a complete administrative shutdown. Cyno didn't see an issue- after all, the Matra didn't have much to do due to the small number of ongoing research projects (fewer academic violations). As such, the General Mahamatra had sent some of his most capable and trusted Matra to take over Mahamata duties- and he's proud to say that they have been carrying out their new duties exceptionally. Every once in a while, he'll get a report back from his dispatched Matra about their current status- and it all seems to be going fine, for now.

Port Ormos, however, was a strange case. In other regions where Al Haitham's Matra-Mahamata system was applied, it had worked perfectly- things began to pick up again, and, for at least now, some sense of public order had been restored. However, due to the unique circumstances in Port Ormos, the Matra-Mahamata system didn't change anything. The Port Ormos Crash meant nothing was happening at the port- there was no one there. There is nothing to administrate or anything to do. The only notable thing in the reports sent back to Cyno was that the Corps of Thirty Division in Port Ormos was gone; according to Rashim (the Matra he had sent there to take over Port Ormos's lead Mahamata's duties), it was because the Wikala Funduq's trade supervisors had dismissed them due to the lack of business- no business meant no people in the port, which meant that policing staff weren't needed. When Cyno had escalated this to Al Haitham in the name of security concerns for the people living at and around the port, the man had let out the loudest sigh he had ever heard.

"Well, it certainly explains why the people around that area have been calling the Matra of all people for crime reports," Cyno informed, placing Rashim's report on Al Haitham's packed desk. "What is your instruction, Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham?"

"Could you spare any more of your Matra?" Al Haitham doesn't look up at him as he scans through a document. Cyno doesn't take it personally. "Send any that you can to Port Ormos. They'll take over the policing side of things until the Mahamata is stable enough to re-contract and manage the Corps of Thirty again."

"Very well," Cyno agrees as he watches Al Haitham quickly sign at the end of the page before picking up a new one. His new office above the House of Daena is dimly lit, but even so, Cyno can see the dark circles under his friend's eyes. "Al Hai-"

"Is that all?"

No. No, it wasn't. Cyno wants to ask if there's anything else he could do. If there is anything more that he could do. He has never felt so helpless before, watching his friend stress all alone while he watches.

The silence causes Al Haitham to look up at him, pen in hand, impatiently waiting for a response- and Cyno feels the question disappear from his lips.

"Yes- yes, that's all."

He couldn’t have done it. In hindsight, Al Haitham being the culprit makes zero sense.

Yes, he may have been the last person to see Mr Dilawar. And yes, the Matra did find bloody clothing in his overnight bag. But under scrutiny, several small details don’t add up.

For example, his movements on the day of the murder. No murderer would have stayed any longer in Vimara Village after killing someone there. Much less take time to wander around the village the next morning, buy groceries and chat about books for the next half a day.

Next, the murder weapon. The Matra found a bloody kitchen knife next to Mr Dilawar and deemed it the murder weapon. The doctor that they brought along also agreed. But knowing Al Haitham and what he can do, it makes little sense- why use something that can be found when he could use his sword and then make it disappear?

Nothing makes sense. Once you got over the initial shock and thought things through, Al Haitham being the killer makes no sense.

Or perhaps this is all just your wishful thinking- maybe you’re just trying to squeeze out any tiny, irrelevant inconsistency to convince yourself that the man is innocent.

You just don’t want him to be guilty, you scold yourself as you pace mindlessly outside your house. You don’t want to believe that a guy who would be so kind to you, chat with you about books, buy groceries for you when you were too scared to do so, would go and butcher a man and act so casual about it.

What do you even know about Al Haitham anyway? You’ve only known him for less than a week. Perhaps this is what he’s actually like, under all that kindness and gentleness and-

"It's you!"

The loud exclamation shocks you out of your ruminations. Where have you heard this voice before?

"It's me! Kaveh! Remember me?" You hear the loud sound of rushing footsteps before a hand grabs your shoulder and pulls. The force makes you spin on your heel, and you turn, finally seeing the man himself. His golden hair is in a mess- the feather on his head shoved haphazardly around his fringe- and he's drenched from head to toe. Did he run here? Or swim?

"Kaveh? What are you doing here?"

"I- it's a long story," Kaveh pants, removing his wet hand from your shoulder. "Do you know where the detention rooms are?"

"It's not too far from here," you point towards a dirt path leading away from your house, and Kaveh prepares to bolt in that direction. You quickly grab his arm before he does. "Kaveh, wait! Is this about Al Haitham?"

Through the warm, wet fabirc of his sleeve, you feel his arm tense up. So, it is about Al Haitham.

"You've heard about it too," he sighs, turning to face you. He lowers his voice as you release his arm. "I thought that they were trying to keep it under wraps. If news got out that the Acting Grand Sage got arrested for killing somebody right after the whole Akademiya Sage saga..."

You shudder at the implication of his words. It would be chaos if word got out about Al Haitham's arrest. Regardless of innocence, nobody would be able to accept someone who was suspected of murder to lead the country. And in the state that Sumeru is in, she won't survive another political crisis.

"Let's speak somewhere quieter," you lead Kaveh towards your home. "Come on in."

The first thing Kaveh notices when he enters her house is how packed it is with books but not with anything else.

"Do you want anything to drink?" She asks as she shuts her front door. "I'll go get you a towel. You look like you ran all the way here. Or swam all the way here. Or both?"

"I did," Kaveh groans, treading carefully so he doesn't wet her living room. Her sofa is a lovely shade of green; it matches her wallpaper perfectly. Now, if she moves that stack of books a little more to the left... "I snuck onto the boat Cyno and the Matra took here this morning and was kicked off about halfway when they caught me. I was worried about what Cyno was planning, so I ran all the way. The swimming was involuntary."

"Cyno is here?" Kaveh hears her step back into the living room. She hands him a glass of warm water and a towel, gesturing him to take a seat before sitting opposite him. "Wait, start from the beginning, how did you find out?"

"It's a long, long story," Kaveh sighs, sinking into the couch. "Basically..."

That arrogant, unbearable, stupid fungi took his keys again. Couldn't he at least have returned it before he left for Vimara Village?!

"I swear I'm going to kill him when he gets back," Kaveh complains from the couch. The General Mahamatra's office is comfortable, but not so much so that he would be happy to sleep on it for the night. A sigh comes from the table behind him, and Kaveh turns to face the shorter man.

"And when I take my keys back from his corpse, I'm never leaving it in the key holder ever again!"

"I guess you've locked onto a solution," Cyno quips, and Kaveh responds with a groan. "Do you want me to call Ahangar to unlock the door for you? He does locksmithing services too. We could ask him to duplicate a spare key."

"That's beside the point. The point is-"

"General Mahamatra!" The door bursts open before Kaveh can finish, nearly shocking him off the couch. It's one of Cyno's Matra. She doesn't seem to see him- beelining over to Cyno's desk, holding a letter towards him. From where Kaveh lies, he spots a red wax seal keeping the envelope shut. "An urgent message from Rashim!"

"Rashim?" Cyno seems to have spotted the red seal and frowns. Kaveh hears Cyno's chair drag against the floor as he stands- and the mood in the room shifts. Something big has happened. Something bad? "Did you rush over here from Port Ormos, Shohre?"

Kaveh knows he shouldn't be listening to this conversation. Whatever is going on here is clearly important, confidential, and for Akademiya folk to deal with. He should excuse himself, let Cyno deal with the issue in peace, and head to the tavern to order all the wine and place it on Al Haitham's tab.

But, whatever is going on here is clearly interesting, and Kaveh is bored (and for the record, this is all Al Haitham's fault- he wouldn't be so bored if he could go home and continue his architectural models). So, he decides to lie perfectly still on the couch; perhaps if he doesn't move, Cyno will forget that he's here and not chase him out. Let him hear the tea, please.

"Yes. This is a matter of utmost importance!" From where Kaveh lurks, he hears Shohre (who Kaveh slowly figures out is most likely a Matra stationed at Port Ormos) shift closer towards Cyno. "Rashim currently has the situation under control, so he sent me to deliver the message."

"But why send you? This letter would have sufficed."

"Due to the nature of the situation, Rashim felt that the matter had to be handled with confidentiality. The letter is for your eyes only- I was to ensure that," Shohre answers. "I was also to answer any questions regarding the incident at hand. Only the simplest details were included in the letter as a precaution."

There's a rustling of paper- an envelope opening, perhaps? Kaveh pictures Cyno tearing into the sealed paper as he holds his breath. What could have happened?

Silence. But just when Kaveh is about to lift his head and take a peek at the two-

SLAM!

"You can't be serious," Cyno's voice drops to a deadly whisper- a stark difference from the loud slam that reverberated through the room. Kaveh hears the crumpling of paper. "Is this a joke?"

"It isn't. Rashim is requesting your presence in Vimara Village at once."

"This is ridiculous," Cyno's voice takes an angry tone. Kaveh doesn't dare move. "How could this happen?"

If Shohre responds, Kaveh doesn't hear it.

"How many people know about this?"

"Only the Matra who are involved in the investigation. And two villagers from Vimara Village; both have been sworn to secrecy," Shrohre blurts. "One of the villagers is a witness; the other was in the vicinity when the Acting Grand Sage was arrested-"

"I'm sorry, arrested?!" The sudden mention of Al Haitham is apparently enough for Kaveh to forget fear and jump off the couch. Shohre screams. Cyno whips out his polearm. Kaveh ignores both. "What happened to Al Haitham? Is he alright? Is-"

"You are not allowed here, what are you-"

"Cyno! What did Al Haitham do-"

SLAM!

"Enough!" The sound of Cyno's polearm hitting against the cool marble tiles shocks the two out of their squabbling. "Kaveh. I forgot you were here."

"That was kind of the point at first."

"Shohre. I'll handle this," Cyno turns to the Matra, dismissing her. "I'll meet you at the docks."

Kaveh doesn't miss the wary glance Shohre shoots at him- but decides to look at Cyno instead. When the door shuts, Cyno sighs, turning back towards Kaveh.

"I know you have questions-"

"Yeah, no sh-"

"But," Cyno interrupts with a heavy look. Kaveh feels a chill go down his spine. "You need to forget everything you've just heard."

What?

"I'm serious, Kaveh. No one can know what you just heard," Cyno folds his arms, staring Kaveh down. "You aren't even supposed to know."

"You can't just tell me to forget after hearing that!" Kaveh scoffs. The audacity! "My fri- housemate just got arrested for Archons knows what, and you're telling me to just go on my merry way?!"

"Like I said, I'll call a locksmith to open your door-"

"That's not the point! I want answers! I want to know if he's okay!"

"He's fine!" Cyno raises his voice. Tempers are rising in the room. "As fine as someone who just butchered a man would be." He spits.

Silence.

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing," Cyno flinches away, walking towards the door. "You should leave, Kaveh."

"Butchered someone? Al Haitham murdered someone?" Kaveh takes a step back. "Cyno, what?!"

"Kaveh, please go. Don't make me arrest you."

"... and so I left, kind of. I followed Cyno to the dock where his boat was waiting and snuck on," Kaveh recalls. "But halfway, I was betrayed by my rumbling stomach and was caught by the Matra onboard."

"And they dropped you off at the nearest shore?" she pokes, glancing at the water dripping onto her floor.

"I wish. Cyno kicked me off the boat. Literally." Kaveh shivers at the memory, pulling at his wet clothes. "Seriously! He's acting like a Pyro Fungi! He's been acting like a prick ever since he heard the news!"

She doesn't say anything in response, only nodding at him to continue. And continue Kaveh will. He has a lot to say. But perhaps more to think about.

"I know Cyno is just doing his job," Kaveh sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Confidentiality I get, but he didn't have to dismiss me like that. I'm worried. The dude I live with just got arrested for murder. I think being disturbed since I live with said person is not overreacting."

"So you think he did it?" she queries softly. So softly that Kaveh would have missed it if he couldn't see her mouth move. "You think that Al Haitham is a murderer?"

"I- no, that's not it," Kaveh cups his hands around the warm mug. "I don't know. This is just- I don't know."

And that's the big question, isn't it? The question he's been avoiding.

Al Haitham is a machine. He's logical to a fault. He takes a situation, analyses it, finds the best course of action and carries it out. He cuts out all the emotional aspects of a situation unless he can use it to his advantage- something Kaveh hates about him. He doesn't care about the feelings of others- something Kaveh hates even more about him.

With all this being said, is it that much of a stretch that Al Haitham may kill someone to accomplish a goal? Kaveh can see it- Al Haitham, taking his blade and piercing it into someone's chest. In Kaveh's mind, Al Haitham doesn't hesitate. He doesn't look back. He doesn't think about what he had just done, only what happens next.

"...aveh. Kaveh!"

"Yes!" Kaveh jerks in his seat. "Sorry, what were you saying again?"

"No, I wasn't...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." she fiddles with her fingers. She doesn't meet Kaveh's gaze. "I didn't mean to ask that. You must be exhausted."

"I am," Kaveh slumps back into his seat. The towel is doing wonders to absorb the water on him. He'll be dry in no time. "Conflicted and tired. And..."

Hurt.

Kaveh is hurt.

As much as he doesn't want to admit it, a part of him- a much younger, naive and carefree Kaveh who knew the stoic, pensive Al Haitham before the fall out- still believes that his friend (or at least, the friend he knew) is still somewhere in there. Past all the arguments, the passive-aggressive taunts, the lock-outs, Kaveh knows that Al Haitham isn't the machine that he makes him out to be.

But he can't take that leap of faith and trust that he's innocent. He and Al Haitham are too far gone for that. Well, not so far gone that they don't talk or are totally incapable of living together, but still not close enough. Not on the level they used to be, where Kaveh would have believed anything that came out of Al Haitham's mouth. Whatever semblance of friendship they have now is not enough for Kaveh to convince himself that Al Haitham won't go and kill a person. It's not enough. But it could have been. It should have been. And that's what hurts the most.

Call Kaveh a dreamer. A brightsider. A hopeless hoper, if you will. But this fool had believed that one day, in the not-so-distant future, they would somehow make amends and return to the two friends they used to be in the Akademiya. They would joke, share ideas, and not let a difference in ideals come between them. Kaveh had been waiting for a day like that. Kaveh had truly believed that a day like that would come. But now it won't. Al Haitham had gone and butchered someone for Archon knows what reason, and with that, slain whatever hope Kaveh had of getting his old friend back.

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mulders-too-large-shirt · 4 months ago

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s3 episode 15 thoughts

i’m comfy. i’m cozy. i’m sat. i had a nice relaxing day. i am prepped for this.

(author's note: juni was, in fact, NOT prepared for this episode)

so, reading the episode description here: ANOTHER sunken ww2 craft??? they deal with these A LOT. they need to get an archaeologist on the phone, because they seem to just attract these sorts of things. and you don’t really find them everyday. unless you’re special.

(actually, it turned out to be the same one as before- or at least related to the first one. but my point stands. they are dealing with more war wreckage than you would expect)

we see a boat. they’re speaking french!! why did they call it “deux zéro point huit” instead of “vingt”? okay guess i don’t know a lot of stuff… but i like that a lot better than how the french usually use numbers, because then you could say 1998 a LOT easier… une neuf neuf huit… how easy these things COULD be… alas!

they’re diving!!!! this fellow- gauthier- has a very funny looking scuba suit. it’s bright yellow and very stiff. mobility is probably not ideal. oh, it’s getting darker and darker as he goes deeeep into the water.

they’re detecting radiation from where he's going in? seems worrisome. but it’s the pacific ocean, so who knows what is in there? plenty of nuclear waste, i'm sure.

everyone is very excited to hear that gauthier thinks he found “one from the squadron”. what this squadron is, we do not know. but then they hear a thumping noise and lose contact with the diver.

someone is inside the ship??? someone with very black inky eyes?? damn... mermaids are real?? AND scary?

the diver gauthier comes back up to the surface and says he became disoriented. hmm. that gaze is suspicious… and HIS eyes go inky black too!!

what did y’all do to my boy gauthier...

(cheering loudly as gillian anderson’s name is on the screen during the intro)

fbi time. scully reading a case and walking. she is a pro at reading and not walking into things. a skill that comes with great practice.

skinner opens the door and asks to see her!!! he asks his secretary to leave. oooo, whatever he has to say, it's going to be juicy.

he says a memo came across his desk last night. and it concerns her. AND HER SISTER!!! 5 months in and there have been no leads in her murder investigation. they want to make it inactive and she has a LOT to say with just her face and the words “i see”. she looks both furious and hurt.

but he’s going to appeal it!!! awww nice skinner. and go over the evidence again himself, just in case someone missed something.

NOOOO, i yell out in sadness, as scully stops herself before leaving, visibly upset. she goes on a monologue about how the fbi can seemingly solve any crime but not this one, and there are tears in her eyes and there are tears in MY eyes. but for some reason they can’t figure out this one, even though it took place in a well-lit building and the murderer left the weapon at the crime scene!!! skinner tries to say it’s not about interest, but she says it is, just not hers or his. NOOOO STOP... MY POOR GIRL.

(tbh i’m glad they are addressing melissa's death again, because they haven’t really talked about it since. and i know with the monster of the week episodes you don’t get a ton of time to process these things, but it was HER SISTER. there is no way she could just jump right back into work without some severe emotional trauma. i think in some ways the episode format can do that disservice to their characters, introduce a Very Important Plot Point and then not talk about it again for the in-world equivalent of 5 months during which they act as if everything is fine)

skinner looks really sad too :( noooo, skinner

she goes to mulder’s office and denies that anything is wrong (he can obviously tell that things are wrong) also he’s wearing a different color suit today which is interesting.

today's mystery: he says a ship from france came into port in san diego yesterday, and he tracked its course. it was at the same place they had earlier found the thing she thinks is a russian sub, and he thinks a ufo!!

she looks really upset to hear this :( i think she just doesn’t wanna deal with ufo drama when her sister’s murder is unsolved. and can you blame her?

but anyway, the whole crew from that french expedition is being treated for radiation burns, so he can’t just ask them what is down there

she laughs and says that she is amazed by him (!!!) working down in the basement. she says they’re afraid of his relentlessness. he seems offended that she says they could drop him in the desert and he’d ask for a shovel if the truth was out there, but then he smiles and says that he wants her to come along on to san diego. and he looks like this :D and gives her a plane ticket.

it was very cute. if only they could harness his boundless energy into looking at melissa's case...

scully my darling, look at me. tell him that you are feeling sad because your sister’s murder is being ignored. use your words. LOOK AT ME. tell him how you feel. it’s a long flight. you have time. thank you.

at san diego, the men from the ship are very much burned up. they can’t figure out how to treat them because the french government is hiding everything.

she goes into doctor mode. the doctor at the hospital seems shocked to hear that she is a doctor, but... get used to it? anyway, their symptoms are nearly as bad as the hiroshima victims.

and one man had no symptoms, but he discharged himself this morning. it was gauthier! the man in the yellow scuba suit with the inky eyes!

damn, his house is nice. if it’s his house. seems to be, since he’s on the picture on the wall. but he walks past the ringing phone like he has never seen a ringing phone before.

the agents are rolling up to the ship, where a bunch of people are in hazmat suits, investigating, guarded by soldiers. spooky...

so the guy who is leading this investigation says they found absolutely nothing, and they can go on board. which i would be suspicious of. but mulder lacks self-preservation instincts which has been established and he will go into the boat of evil.

investigating a boat! with a big flashlight! i still don’t like boats. too cramped. way too cramped. mulder finds the big yellow scuba suit. and some sort of inky substance on the helmet… while scary music plays.

scully is looking at a map that says “zeus faber” and i have some ideas on what that means but they could be way off... like deus pater? the vedic god? same roots at zeus?

(insert shane and ryans's "i've connected the two dots" "you didn't connect shit" here because really i was onto nothing)

mulder is searching for the VCR to watch the dive video. oooo he finds it!

and scully takes one look at the mysterious object and announces that it is “a north american p-51 mustang” and i feel my heart skip a few beats.

WELL SO DID MULDER’S??? because he announces to the class that he just got very turned on. BAD! BAD! SPRAYING YOU WITH WATER like a NAUGHTY CAT!! not in front of this random guy!! we say such things in PRIVATE and not to the besties!

(actually i'm so lying because that does sound like something i would say to a bestie... but NOT in front of some random guy. i have couth. i only flirt with the girls when no one else is around. and i was sensing no irony from him, which is slipped into my flirting with friends. we differ, mulder and i)

um. brushing past that.

she used to watch her dad and brothers build model ww2 planes as a kid :,) and that’s why she can recite these facts. it’s just a fighter, wouldn’t have been carrying anything interesting. cool fact time with scully is my favorite time of day!

back to our french king gauthier. he’s searching for something. a woman hugs him and he doesn’t say a word. just looks at her all weird. she’s scared and runs away. but he GRABS her and his eyes go black!!! then she steps out and HER eyes go black!!!! what is going on? and is this thing spreading and also why.

scully goes to see a friend of her father’s, named johansen. there are kids in the road. children, please do not play in front of cars, it’s dangerous. scully does not need a vehicular manslaughter charge at the moment due to your prancing about.

scully’s looking at the kids and remembering her sister and tearing up which is very sad but. she drives on.

mulder at gauthier’s house. no one is answering. careful; you know he will just walk into your house. and he does! he finds the scattered papers allllll over. pretty music is playing. he finds a letter talking about salvage and pockets it. then hears a noise??

and finds an inky gauthier on the ground. who says he doesn’t know what happened. he's freaked out because he doesn’t remember anything beyond the boat, and also his wife is gone. and he won’t answer any questions about the letter from the “salvage broker” (idk what that means but it sounds sus as hell)

OH! scully is at the house of her dad’s friend johansen, and she tells him how she used to live there!!! he doesn’t remember her, but also he is very old so this is understandable. he doesn’t seem to recall anything from her list of clues, but he says that the number on the plane isn’t from a p-51. so what’s the truth.

she goes to leave, and he says to say hi to her father, but she has to tell him he passed away NOOOOOO :(((( but before she leaves she talks about the games she used to play out in the lawn. and asks him to say hi to his son for her. will there be a childhood friendship reunion...?

gauthier’s wife is looking for stuff. in the office of the salvage broker! so she must work with her husband on her shady business deals... she hides things before mulder comes in.

BUT NO!!! she has a gun under her desk, and it’s aimed at him!! nothing happens though, she just takes his business card. and we learn her name is geraldine.

mulder is sitting outside the salvage broker’s office. lurking about. and all of a sudden a bunch of cars come rolling up!! talking loudly in french and running in!! he watches. geraldine leaves in a hurry, and he goes to tail her.

WHAT IS SHE HIDING!

scully’s trying to leave, but the soldiers that guard the entrance tell her she is being detained!!! huh? on what charges?

her dad’s friend johansen gets in the car. he says that his son was killed in the gulf war. and that “we bury our dead alive... they talk to us, they haunt us, they beg us for meaning. conscience, it’s just the voices of the dead, trying to save us from our own damnation" <- woah, banger line, unexpectedly profound from this old man. but, noooo sad man who has endured so much loss... :( banger line but at what cost?

he knows something about that plane that sunk. because he was sent to find it! in a sub called the zeus faber!

geraldine is in the airport. where is she going. hong kong?

anyway, scully calls mulder and shares her findings: she says that plane they're on a quest to find had been carrying an atomic bomb, but it never reached its target. and it doesn’t make sense fully to him or her really- like, why would the guy who was closest to the bomb be the only one who doesn't have radiation burns? but mulder has to go to hong kong sooooo. um. okay.

back in D.C., skinner is waiting at a restaurant whilst some angry looking men approach him. they’re asking about people “obeying his orders”

OH! they’re threatening him to make scully’s sister’s case inactive. because those above him have worked hard to reach that decision. covering up for the antics of cig man and the worsties, i see... nasty nasty nasty!

so scully’s talking to johansen again, who is saying that his squadron back in the day also had burns, and almost everyone had died except for him. they found the sunken squadron and then the burns started. but despite most people in the sub being in the process of dying, the captain wouldn’t leave the area to surface and get help!

the men started fighting, realizing they were going to die, and a gunshot made the japanese aware of their presence. so johansen went against the captain’s orders and took them to the surface. he locked the burned men in with the captain, knowing their fate.

but the captain had the inky eyes!!!! so i guess that is why he didn't want to surface...?

only 7 on that boat of 144 lived, and johansen struggles with the guilt from that. and no one ever explained what actually happened. damn, that's a heavy burden to bear.

hong kong time. eating some tasty looking food. geraldine is here. mulder sits next to her and point blank accuses her of selling government secrets. he's always been a bit bold.

he says he’s gonna arrest her, and she says um you can’t have guns here. so he handcuffs her TO HIMSELF. WILD MOVE! and leads them to an office in the back. for their salvage broker dealership!!!

KRYCEK IS HERE???? MY BELOATHED…

mulder tells him to shoot himself in the head like he shot his father. DAMN! please do not pull any punches with this freak

someone shoots geraldine, who gets shoved behind a door still handcuffed to mulder, and then krycek leaves out a window.

(i think i’ve been spelling his name wrong in the past but hear me out: he’s lucky i call him anything beyond “the rat bastard”)

mulder is still handcuffed to the now shot woman while a hit squad approaches. but he is simply too fast for these fools!!! he freed himself and jumped out the window.

okay... what. i looked down to type that, and geraldine somehow came back. unharmed. flashed a bright white light. and left all of the evil frenchmen who were chasing mulder with burns. huh.

that escalated.

back to skinner. who wants his coffee. and a blue plate. which refers to a special, and not an actual color of plate. the more you know! the waitress takes his order.

but someone is harassing her about the payphone not working! he gets up to intervene. a gentleman.

AND THIS DUDE SHOOTS HIM???

HELLO????? RIGHT IN THE GUT????

scully back at her place. as soon as she walks in the phone rings. NO!! she learns skinner was shot and she’s on her way to the hospital.

back to hong kong. krycek is trying to get out through the airport. but mulder catches him at a payphone and starts beating the hell out of him. MULDER TAKES A GUN OUT and is about TO SHOOT HIM IN THE STOMACH and he says “this is for my father” but then krycek is like “i didn’t do it” bitch boy i SAW you there. in his shower.

he claims that if mulder lets him go, he’ll give him a tape with government secrets that he had been selling. mulder says absolutely not, go get yourself cleaned up and bring me there youself, you have three minutes or i’ll come in and kill you. WHEW! he is not messing around. he has been sentenced to the bathroom to wipe his own blood off of his face.

but who rolls up…. but geraldine!!!! who walks into the men’s room. and chokes him. AND KRYCEK'S EYES GO ALL INKY!!!

TO BE CONTINUED??? WHAT!!!!

why does this keep happening!!! the cliffhangers of it all!!!

okay, i’m not REALLY complaining, because the multipart episodes are usually the best ones, and they address the overall plot. but you THINK you’re going in for a nice relaxing evening and bam, krycek comes back, and now he’s got an alien infection. and maybe he too can glow and leave people with burns, and is being led right back to the place where our beloved agents call home. the power of a nuke, stored in one evil rat guy! what could go wrong???!?!?!? /s

and skinner was shot in the stomach! by a guy that seems to have no connection to all of this. but i doubt it.

(screams for about 45 seconds straight)

okay. SO. we got a lot here. we got french people, possession, angry mulder, dead fathers, nuclear aliens, krycek back, geraldine the undying, the sale of government secrets, hong kong, and scully angst.

now, i am naturally drawn to the scully angst. to the memories of her childhood, to her grappling with the loss of her sister, how something is holding them up from the investigation, and whatever it is that wants to keep her from knowing the truth is willing to kill skinner about it. and somehow krycek is connected, because we SAW him do the killing, but we never learned WHY he did that whole betrayal thing beyond it just seems like something he does.

and krycek. i guess i figured he would come back at some point, but man, i feel even more revulsion at his current state now that he has ditched his pretty boy aesthetic for something that is more akin to a guy who started smoking cigarettes and listening to vinyls to make women think he's suffering deeply in an artistic fashion, but really he's just shallow, has no thoughts of his own, and is speedrunning cancer.

what the hell was he doing in hong kong? how is he getting access to these government secrets if he went AWOL?

ugh. i hate him. love to see an angry mulder, though.

skinner... in the past, we have had our disagreements. and though i have called you a bitch before, you have proved yourself, and your care for the agents. this is NOT what i wanted to see happen to you, and i am worried for your future, and the effects another loss will have on scully. so please consider recovering quickly for the sake of everyone else. the FBI will fall to the ranks of such freaks as cig man and his greasy pet rat-snake hybrid krycek if you don't stand guard.

man. i have a lot of thoughts. unfortunately though, i just went back and checked all my notes for typos that i'm sure i failed to catch entirely, and now i'm stuck on mulder's announcement that he was turned on again. we really do have to ask ourselves: why is he that way? i shudder at the thought. spraying him with more water.

would you say that to your male colleagues, mulder? please let me know. because i actually kind of think you would. which doesn't really make you understand the whole concept of gender-based workplace harassment that thought exercise usually provokes.

there is a TIME and a PLACE for hitting on the homies. do that shit off the clock. freak!!!

anyway. let scully have peace. let her not worry about more early deaths related to conspiracies. let her do more dog bathing and ice cream eating and internet research on various animal species. and let her tell us about planes <3 i hope everything gets solved and everyone is happy and mulder and scully and skinner eat ice cream sundaes together in the next episode <3

#i'd say we need to get mulder a shock collar but he'd probably be into that too #smh #well! now i have to go about my day just WONDERING what happens next #there were so many things to unpack and i've barely touched the surface but. i must prepare for another busy week.#rotating krychek around in my mind but in a derogatory fashion. like ugh take a look at THIS guy #skinner baby i'm sorry for what i said before... please come home #AHHHHHHH (screaming for an even longer period of time)#juni's x files liveblog #the x files #txf

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tartagliaxx · 2 years ago

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。DISTANCE MAKES THE HEART FONDER

━━ INCLUDES: alhaitham, cyno, tighnari

━━ SUMMARY: some feelings are felt but left unspoken, or things that the characters do to ease the longing that resides in their heart caused by the distance between you two

━━ CONTAINS: established relationships, long-distance romance

。ALHAITHAM — “ scribe of the akademiya ”

The room he rented for his temporary stay at Port Ormos was rather bare. Not like it mattered, of course. The scribe of the Akademiya cared not for frivolous details. As long as he had what he needed, he was fine and dandy. Today, all he needed was a book and a pen. Alhaitham leans back, the chair creaking subtly under his weight. A glance at the setting sun was all it needed to illicit a small sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh. Though not the kind to whine about what life serves him, a near non-existent flicker of desire had him gripping his pen tighter, eyebrows furrowing deeply as his stoic expression morphed into one of annoyance.

Closing his eyes, he counted to three and breathed in the small pauses in between. Just like that, his composed demeanor returned and he once again sat up straight. In his desk was one of the books Kaveh pointedly refers to as “literature acquired through the scribe’s abuse of authority,” something Alhaitham only rolls his eyes at. There was nothing wrong with simply making use of the resources readily available to him given his esteemed position. Honestly, the mere thought of his roommate made his blood boil and the only reason he has yet to kick him out to the streets was that you had laughed and told him to hold on for a little longer. You were too empathetic for your own good sometimes, but perhaps, that which you possess which he does not is what had attracted him to you in the first place.

His mind swims at the thought of you — of how you’d steal his coat to snuggle into as you lounged around the couch, eyeing either one of his books lying around or nursing a cup of tea that he had brewed for you before he busied himself with whatever. With that thought, Alhaitham’s lips twisted uncharacteristically into a minuscule smile, the kind that would require much effort to see. That expression left not even for a second as his pen scratched onto the surface of the paper, ink pooling to form words at the corner of the page. Definitions, clarifications, guide questions, interpretations, and finally, on the last page, a small envelope — a letter, to be precise, that contained a short recount of what he could afford to tell you about his days far from you. There was no flair, and certainly no drama. If you, its eventual receiver, were to compare it with anything, you’d associate it with an eyewitness report for one of the crimes the Matra are investigating. Still, you had once told him offhandedly that knowing about how his day went made you feel as if he was with you and conversing lightly over candlelit dinners. In truth, the scribe found the act to be a waste of time but because it’s for you, he had room to make exceptions. After all, where was the lie in saying that even miles apart, Alhaitham thinks of you quite fondly — finding a unique sense of satisfaction in sharing all that he owns, including his prized intellect and his scarce affection with you?

With that, he decides to call it a night; withdrawing from the desk and leaving behind the book that was ready to be shipped off to Sumeru City first thing in the morning.

。CYNO — “ the general mahamatra ”

His feet dug into the fine grains of sand with each trudge forward.

The desert has always been quiet at night, save for the howling wind that sounded eerie to the ears of the inexperienced. It was precisely because of this that he prefers moving out when darkness has painted the land with dark shadows and solitude. Then, he could hear everything: The shuffling of the scorpions, the small squeaks of the birds perched on the trees, and most importantly, the scared breathing and mumbling of his prey.

The General Mahamatra was feared by the citizens of Sumeru and for good reason too. He shows no mercy, face remaining cold and detached even after a scholar expresses their motivations for whatever fallacy they have committed. Stress, coercion, vengeance; he has heard it all but never has his heart been swayed. The weight of their sins had always been placed on the scale and they have always lost against that of his principles. Such is the judgment of the Matra, such is the fairness of Cyno, and such is the blade that sliced through the heavy air as the reason for his sudden departure from the city was finally apprehended.

It had taken longer than he would’ve liked and Cyno, who has finally had the room to breathe and release the tension that lingered in his shoulders, sat down in the makeshift camp of the now-unconscious scholar. The trek back to Caravan Ribbat would take long and he was not that heartless to force the weak-looking man on his feet just to serve as the next target for unfriendly Eremite groups. There are many dangers in the desert and frankly, it was a miracle the scholar made it this far unscathed.

Still, that meant that he’ll have to camp away from home for the night and Cyno’s heart leaned towards irritation. Never had he had any qualms against being away from his lodging on the outskirts of Sumeru City but now was different. Instead of silence and the untrustworthy shadows, what awaits him is perhaps, a spread of his favorite foods and fruits illuminated by the warm kitchen light and your radiant and welcoming smile. You are waiting, Cyno sighs as his eyes moved towards the clear night sky of the desert. You — his star, the brightest one he had the pleasure of witnessing. Here, sheltered only by a feeble-looking tent, the General Mahamatra finds himself longing to bask under your light, eyes twinkling as you retell stories of how your day went filled with the tiny, insignificant details that he misses when he’s away. He longs for you: body, mind, and soul, and his face says it all if you had the gall to stare that long.

Cyno’s gaze never wavered from the sky, not even as clouds pass by and covered what had been the object of his attention. He bides his time seeking the brightest star that just falls short of beating your illuminance in his heart. Perhaps that will ease the ache he feels, maybe even remove the tingle in his fingers that crave to feel your skin and warmth once more.

From afar, the General Mahamatra is as serene as he could be and so is the lullaby he hums quietly — your favorite, and the one he had sung before to urge you to sleep when you and he ventured the same lands together.

。TIGHNARI — “ forest watcher of the avidya forest ”

The forest watcher was a busybody, that much is a fact for everyone who has heard his name. Between lecturing reckless adventurers and mushroom-addicted merchants, clearing Withering Zones, writing down patrol schedules, and caring for the sick and injured, it was a surprise that Tighnari had time to breathe and do what normal people do. If he were to be honest, however, he’d say that he prefers it this way. Being busy keeps him away from straying thoughts, and having his entire mental faculties required by tasks at hand makes it impossible for him to dwell in the past where you and he rest under the shade of the towering trees in Avidya Forest, whispering secret conversations that the world has not the clearance to hear.

Yes, the forest watcher does prefer it this way, but his ears and tail are ever more honest than he will ever be.

Collei was a smart girl and she knew better than to mention the languid swish of her master’s appendage ever since he watched you leave for an urgent task in Bimarstan. His eyes never left your form not until he could no longer see you from the distance — not even a dot. She also never commented on the flick his ears do when one of their colleagues bemoaned the lack of your presence. It was rather amusing and dare she say it, cute, at first but as time went on and Tighnari appeared more and more on edge, Collei found herself feeling sympathetic instead.

It was during the night when Tighnari has nothing else to do that he catches himself sighing, a pout slowly forming as he twisted and turned in his bed to no avail. His ears droop and as if shocked by the act himself, he immediately sits up rigidly with an embarrassed hue tainting his skin. It was so out of character for him to feel so needy and clingy that he could almost imagine the teasing grin you’ll wear if you were to ever catch him like this. Shaking his head with a mumbled string of curses, the forest watcher knew that there is no hope of catching any sleep that night so he instead takes the notepad by his bedside and prepares to go outside. Now, he’d advise against this on normal occasions but this was him and he’d argue that no one knew the forest better than he does so it should be fine. He doesn’t plan on staying out for long anyway.

Before long the sun was rising and in just a few hours, the forest watchers would wake to start their morning patrol. Tighnari barely made it back without being caught cradling an assortment of flowers in his arms. For research, he’d determined to say if inquired about but anyone who had a mind of their own would spot the lie quite easily. And truly, even if they didn’t exercise their mind at all, one sight of Tighnari carefully preserving the Kalpalata Lotus he gathered was enough of a clue. It takes not a genius to connect the dots between the flora and the way he’d teasingly call you his lotus or some other variety when he’s feeling mischievous enough to fluster you to oblivion.

But again, like some unwritten rule, don’t comment on the new decorations you have in your room when you arrive back. Though unsaid, each flower stands for each sleepless night, and having that thought to warm you up is much better than the hour-long lecture you’d have to endure should you use his affection against him.

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