#shake her and she'll rattle

[togeppys]

the waiting game ;

tsukishima kei x reader

reader is childhood friends with tsukki, and has an ongoing bit where she'll ask him out periodically. she's grown used to him saying no, and doesn't expect it when he actually says yes.

You would easily consider Tsukishima Kei your closest friend. You grew up on the same street, went to the same schools, and were in the same class on multiple occasions, so your frequent proximity had forced the two of you to become very familiar with one another. Though he had a personality that others may find sour, knowing him for so long meant that you had seen every version of him, and knew that there was more to him than the reputation that he had gained. Sure, he was arrogant and standoffish a vast majority of the time, but you knew that he was also kind and considerate towards those he cared about. 

You didn't think that it was possible to gain feelings for a friend so close to you, but over the years you couldn't help but find yourself growing more and more intrigued with the idea of being in a relationship with your best friend. You cherished the friendship that the two of you had, but you couldn't help but wish that it could blossom into something more. Even as a child, you knew you wanted to make a move, but were held back by the fear that he would take it negatively, and you would lose a friend that meant the world to you. Sure, you both had other friends outside of each other, but a life without Tsukishima Kei by your side was not something you wanted to risk. 

The first time you asked him out was a joke to test the waters. The situation had been perfectly laid out for you, so you figured you might as well give it an attempt. 

At twelve years old, you, Tsukki, and your deskmates sat chatting about how White Day was approaching, with some members of the conversation more enthusiastic than others. One boy excitedly announced that he had started dating another girl in the class, and was planning on surprising her with candy on the special day. One by one, each of the boys rattled off who they wanted to give a present on the holiday, while the girls helped pitch ideas on how they could make their surprises even better. 

"Who are you getting a present for, Tsukishima?" a voice sounded next to you, a bright eyed girl addressing the one member of the circle who had not made a contribution. 

Tsukki stared blankly at her, before shaking his head, "No one, I don't have a girlfriend." 

The boy seated next to him accusingly pointed a finger in his direction. "There's gotta be someone you want to get a gift for. It's White Day, this is your chance to get one!" 

Your best friend scoffed, folding his arms in defiance. "It's a made up holiday, and a girlfriend right now would be a waste of time and money. Why would I buy chocolates for someone I don't have any interest in?" 

Sounds of protest came from everyone sitting at the table. Upon hearing his thoughts, you supposed that should have been a clear enough answer to whether or not he had an interest in anyone, but you couldn't help but think that he was only staying quiet because you were present at the table. While somewhat disappointed, you knew that this was your chance to prod him further and get a more concrete answer.

"Date me, I'm your best friend and I'll gladly take the chocolates," you half-joked, trying to play it off as cool as a twelve year old possibly could.

Your answer came quickly, not in the form of an answer, but in the ease of him brushing you off, not even considering the possibility that you could genuinely mean what you had just said. 

"I'm not getting anything for anyone, find someone else to buy your chocolates." 

Following that conversation, it had been a whole year before you took another chance at proposing the idea of a relationship, fearing that you would be shot down once again. It was a similar situation; the environment had given you the chance to casually slide the idea into the conversation, and you couldn't give up the opportunity. 

You and now-thirteen-year-old Tsukishima Kei stood in a convenience store on your way home from school, picking out snacks after you had spent a long day with your clubs at school. You were in the art club and had to take home a painting that you had done on a disproportionately large canvas. As you decided you wanted a barbecue pork bun, Tsukki picked yours up on your behalf, seeing as your hands were fully occupied with your artwork. Standing at the till, he gave the payment to the store owner, an elderly man with a strong gaze, and took the bag that was handed to him in return. 

"Young man, why don't you give the food to your girlfriend and carry that massive painting for her instead?" the elderly man chimed as the two of you began to pull away from the counter. 

Both your eyes widened, and you could see that the taller boy's cheeks had gone slightly red at being criticized by the man before you, along with the realization that you had been incorrectly identified as his girlfriend. He opened his mouth in protest, but the store owner gave him a pointed look, forcing him to place the bag back on the counter and take the painting from your arms. A large grin broke out on your face as you picked up the buns and gave the man a toothy smile while the two of you gave him a small bow before exiting the store. 

"That's more like it," you heard the owner's voice carry from behind you as the doors to exit the store chimed while you walked into the evening air. 

The second you were out of earshot of the man, you broke out into laughter, immediately turning to the boy who had turned an even deeper shade of red. 

"Hear that Kei? Carry the massive painting for your girlfriend," you mocked, taking your bun out of the bag and taking a bite, ensuring to make a grand show of the amount of freedom your arms had in that moment. 

"Tsk," was the only response heard from the boy as he turned his face away from you to try and hide the red that was slowly disappearing from his cheeks. 

"I say we should start dating so that you can become my personal artwork carrier," you quipped as you skipped ahead of him along your path. 

"Never going to happen," his voice sounded from behind you, unamused. 

"Go out with me!" you called back, continuing to skip ahead of him. 

"No." 

That incident had begun the joke that ran between the two of you. You would ask him out, and he would respond with some form of deadpan denial. Your friends had grown accustomed to it, expecting you to make the joke from time to time. On the days you spent with both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, the shorter boy would even occasionally play along. 

"What in the world is that poster for?" you asked one day, noting an obnoxiously coloured poster stuck to a pole near the corner where you and Tsukishima split off from Yamaguchi on your paths home. 

"A couples dancing competition," the green haired boy read off with a laugh. 

"I wonder what the turnout would be, based on how ugly that poster is," your best friend commented, leaning forward to get a better look at the image before the three of you. 

"The two of you should sign up," Yamaguchi responded jokingly, matching the smile that was growing across your face, "It would be a sight." 

"You're so right, both of our incredibly above average dancing skills would blow the competition away," you joked, "the only thing we're missing is being an actual couple." 

"I'm not going out with you." 

"It was worth a shot." 

As you grew older, the two of you continued to remain best friends. You had shared sentiments over schoolwork, had jokes shared between each other, and you knew the ins-and-outs of each others' lives. You were closer than ever, but the fact that you two had only grown closer meant that it hurt even more that the two of you wouldn't be anything more than friends. As far as you were concerned, he only thought of you as a cherished friend, and all the times you had asked him out were nothing more than a gimmick resulting from a comfort level obtained from your level of friendship. You loved having him as a friend, but as you grew older and more mature, your feelings grew with you, and your childhood crush developed into infatuation with the boy living down the street. 

When high school came around, you both joined Karasuno together, acknowledging that it made sense for you to attend the same school once again. After the incident when you were thirteen, he had formed a habit of helping you carry your larger paintings on the walk home, and in turn you feigned some interest in the volleyball club, hearing what he and Yamaguchi had to say about their matches. 

When the boys volleyball team qualified for the finals of their tournament, you joined your school in supporting your two friends as they faced the top school in the prefecture. You were one of many loud voices cheering the boys on, though you liked to believe that amongst them all, you were cheering the loudest. When Tsukishima made the first block against the opposing ace, you felt a burning pride to see the boy you liked finally begin to show some emotion on the court, your excitement visible from the stands. 

Though you didn't understand the game well, it had you on your toes; everything that took place was crucial to the boys' success in the game. So encapsulated by the gameplay, and cheering on the series of blocks that Tsukki had done only moments before, you were confused when murmurs started to pass through the crowd and the players began to crowd around the tall blonde. It took a few seconds for you to realize that he was injured and was gripping his hand while the others spoke to him. Concerned, you left your spot amongst your classmates and approached his brother, who had a matching look of concern etched upon his face. 

"Akiteru, did you see what happened? Is Kei injured?" you questioned, standing next to the older Tsukishima brother. 

"I hope not," he muttered back, eyes carefully watching what was going on below. 

You both watched intently as your friend wrapped a towel around his hand and began to walk towards the gymnasium exit.

"C'mon, let's go see what happened," he stated, as you both left the stands along with the first-year Karasuno manager to go meet his younger brother. Walking down the steps you could feel the anxious energy radiating off of all of you, and you tried to shake it off so that the injured boy would not sense it too. The three of you met him outside the doors of the gym. 

"Kei, are you okay?" you asked, somewhat redundantly; of course he wasn't 'okay' if he was leaving the game because of an injury. 

"I'm fine," he quipped back, trying to act more nonchalant than you could tell he felt inside. You observed your friend as he had a back and forth with his brother over his physical state. He commented on how it was nice to rest after all the sets- you could tell that there was some truth to the statement, but you could also see that he had finally found his groove, and really wanted to be back in the game. As he began to walk away, you could see the frustration emanating from his stance, and you and his brother decided to follow him and the older manager to the infirmary.

You ran up to catch him, and walked alongside Tsukki, Kiyoko and Akiteru. You walked in silence, knowing that the middle blocker was busy ruminating on the events of the game, and could only think of getting back on the court, despite his efforts to pretend otherwise. As the four of you arrived at the infirmary, you sat beside him and the two others stood near the door behind you while the nurse took a look at his hand. You could tell that he was scared that the nurse would announce his hand was too severely injured and he would have to sit out the remainder of the match. 

To try and ease some of the nerves that he would be feeling, you grabbed his non-injured hand and gave it a small squeeze. 

"I'm sure it's fine and you'll be back soon," you whispered so that only he could clearly hear, "and once you get back, you'll win the game and go to nationals." 

You gave him a small encouraging smile, finally meeting his eyes, and for a few moments the boy did nothing but stare back at you. 

After a short pause he finally responded with a nod, "I hope so," before dropping his eyes as the nurse analyzed and dressed his wounds. The remainder of the visit, you four sat in silence, the volleyball player evidently deep in thought over what he would do when he returned to the match, however his eyes occasionally fluttered away, as if something were distracting him.

Soon, his finger had been wrapped and immobilized, and the nurse announced that he would be allowed to return to the game. The four of you sprung up, and began jogging back to the gym, Tsukki slightly out-pacing the rest of you. You and Akiteru stood by the doors as the other two ran to the coach to explain his condition and request that he be put back in the game. You and the other Tsukishima brother ran back up to the stands to watch upon seeing him take a seat on the bench, the substitution card in his hand. 

You watched as the remainder of the match unfolded, Tsukki back on the floor, knowing that he was still in pain though he tried to hide it. You didn't think it was possible, but you were even more captivated by the game in front of you, every movement drawing you closer and closer to the edge of your seat, more and more in awe of your best friend’s tenacity. When the final point was scored and Karasuno were announced as the winners, you jumped out of your seat, cheers and hollers all around you as your entire section cheered on the victory of your school's team. 

The victory party had begun, with Karasuno staff and students overjoyed alike, excitement filling the air. The team bowed to your cheering section, and you let out more cheers to your two friends before you. You first made eye contact with Yamaguchi, who had found you in the crowd sooner and you gave him a smile and a thumbs up to show your congratulations. Noticing his teammate's line of vision, your best friend found you as well and you beamed even more, changing your thumbs up into a heart that you made with both your hands. You could almost hear the half-laugh, half-scoff that came from the boy as he immediately turned away from your antics. You couldn't help but laugh as well when you turned away from your seat and started to join the crowd that had begun to trickle out of the stands. 

When everyone had finished mingling in the lobby, you excused yourself from your other friends to go greet the volleyball players who were dispersed outside the gym. You easily spotted the blond head of hair that stood taller and slightly apart from his teammates, the green-haired boy nowhere in sight. 

You decided that the best course of action to get his attention was to launch yourself at his back. So you did, and he let out a yelp as he caught you behind him, a small exasperated laugh being let out. You let go of him and gave him a proper hug, but from the front, despite his protests. 

"What did I say, go back soon, win the game, go to nationals," you said matter-of-factly, pointing a joking finger in his face once you had finally freed him of the hug, "I think I can see the future."

"I mean we were already so close to winning, the prediction was right in your face," the boy responded sassily, obviously trying to get back at your outrageous remark. 

"I don't know, I think I have a gift," you continued joking, "I'll show up to all of the nationals games and start predicting who's going to win, just you wait and see." 

"There are too many games going on, you'd never go to them all," the boy responded, trying to shut down your new aspirations. 

"No, I'll do it, just you wait and see. I'll go to all of yours too, up until you win it all." 

"You'd look like a stalker, the crazy fan of Karasuno who won't leave us alone." 

"Hmm... no," you responded back, "The best course of action is for us to start dating because then I would no longer be a crazed fan and instead a loyal girlfriend there to support my boyfriend." 

"Mhm okay." 

"And then if anyone asks I could just say that I... wait did you just say okay?" 

You had continued on your rambling, so focused on the dumb situation that you had thought up, that you had completely failed to notice the boy's response, or the way that he had been looking at you since the moment you had met him outside the gym. 

He now stood, smiling smugly at you, and you realized that while you had been going on and on, he had been looking down at you, a newfound admiration on his face. You couldn't say when exactly the change had been made, but you realized now that he was looking at you in a way that he had never once before, and you began to feel the butterflies in your stomach. 

"I did say okay," he stated plainly, placing a hand on the top of your head, making light of the fact that he towered over you. 

You were speechless and could do nothing but stare back at him in confusion. 

"After all this time, did you want me to say no again?" he asked, when almost a whole minute passed without a response from you. 

"NO, no not at all," you said finally, accepting that he wasn't just messing with you and actually meant it, "it just caught me off guard." 

The boy removed his hand from your head and smiled once again, less smug this time. 

"Okay, so now I'm expecting you to show up to all our games at nationals and be the supportive girlfriend cheering me on constantly." 

"Girlfriend already?" you retorted, once again taking his non-injured hand in yours, the difference being that now he held it as well, the feelings no longer one sided, "What happened to taking a girl out on a few dates before claiming that title?" 

"Did you really ask me out all those times just to not even want to be called my girlfriend?" he asked back, eyes narrowing in disbelief at the comment that you just made. 

"Nevermind, girlfriend it is." 

Bonus:

A week had passed since the volleyball team had won the game against Shiratorizawa. The boys had been busy following the win, so you finally had a moment to treat both your friends to a congratulatory dinner. The three of you walked in the direction of the restaurant on a Sunday, with you standing in between your two friends. You passed a hideous poster, identical to the one that the three of you had previously joked about. 

"Now that we've mastered volleyball, I think it's time for you two to take up dancing seriously," Yamaguchi smiled, recalling the previous joke that you had made over the poster. 

"I wholeheartedly agree," you said back, "this time we even meet the couple criteria." 

Yamaguchi stopped walking, turning to look at the two of you. You innocently looped your arm into Tsukki's, though your boyfriend stood still, no reaction evident on his face or through his body language. 

A few seconds passed before Yamaguchi unfroze and continued walking, a smile now plastered on his face. 

"Congratulations," was all he said at first, before he finished his train of thought, "but it was really about time." 

[clandestineloki]

miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader

cw: non-graphic mentions of violence, suggestive bit at the end lmk if u want an nsfw of this!!

ok but imagine shy lil missus o'hara who's a stay at home wife while miguel goes off to either alchemax or to fight some bad guys

and miguel comes home stressed all the time but just a touch of her hand on his shoulder grounds him after all that fighting

and miguel is tired but happy, grateful for his little love taking such good care of him :)) giving you a forehead kiss before he goes off to the bathroom, settling in the perfectly warm bath prepared for him before indulging in his little wife's amazing cooking 

but one night when he comes home a little bit more tense than usual

she's very tense

she's heard him yelling at his subordinates over the phone and yelling at dumb-ass cops who get in the way of him stopping some thief

and while miguel has always been soft and kind and gentle with her, she's scared that she'll accidentally do something wrong :((

so miguel walks past her, exhausted, and almost smiles at the smell of dinner

no forehead kiss for her :(( poor baby

sitting at the dining table head in his hands as he mumbles about not getting the chance to grab a snack, let alone a break in spanish

and she knows he's hungry, but she knows his whole body will be aching if he doesn't take a bath to regulate his body temperature

but poor baby doesn't know how to say it without him possibly snapping at her :((

she's standing on the other side of the table nervously fidgeting with the dish towel and finding the right words to say

"y-you... you gotta t-take a bath f-first..."

miguel sighs into his hands. "i know, but im really hungry, cariño..."

"b-but... if you don't... you'll be s-sore..."

he looks up, brows furrowing. "what?"

he was genuinely confused why you seemed so scared of him, but his voice came out a bit more bluntly than he meant it to.

your eyes widen and you look down. "n-nothing," you mumble, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. "sorry."

"hey, hey, baby..." miguel stands up, walking over to you and pulling you into his arms. "what's wrong? did i say something?"

"no..." you sniffle, "jus thought i made you mad..."

"no, no, no, i'm not mad," he kisses all over u: your teary eyes, your wobbling lips, your forehead, the tip of ur nose

miguel kisses you deeply and then hugs you close to him. "im not mad, i promise. i'm just so so tired and hungry and the food smelled so good i'm gonna die if i don't get to taste it," he whispers, laughing when you giggle at his declaration.

"the bath can wait," he caresses your cheek with his hand.

"b-but you're gonna get cramps tomorrow if-"

he cuts you off with a big smooch to your face. "it doesn't matter. im staying home tomorrow."

"wh-what?!" you look up at him as he sits down, pulling you into his lap. "but you have work- and- and you're spiderman- and-"

he shakes his head, running his fingers through your hair.

"i'm your husband first, and all that other shit second."

miguel sighs, pulling you closer.

"i know i haven't been taking care of you the way i should be."

before you can interject about how he's doing so much already, he presses a finger against your lips.

"ssh. and alchemax and the cops don't really give a shit about me, can probably last every other day without me there. they'd probably have a field day without this jackass there," he chuckles. "but you, baby, i need to return the favor- ah, ah! let me finish, gatita- return the favor for keeping this place a safe space for me."

a kiss here, a kiss there. "entiendes?"

you nod, hugging him. "just glad you're home," you mumble, nuzzling into his neck.

he spends the rest of that hour enjoying the food you made for him while also feeding you and rattling all about the thugs he stopped that day.

then he pulls you into the bath with him, despite your protests, and laughs as he splashes you with the soapy water, making you squeal and threaten to spray him with the shower nozzle

then the two of you dry up and snuggle in bed, not bothering to put on any clothes. miguel smiles down at you and you smile up at him, before he rolls you on your back and crawls over you to make the sweetest yet roughest love to show you just how thankful he is for having a sweet lil thing like u to come home to <3

(part 2 is here~)

[crazyk-imagine]

Napping and Cooking

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Straw hat!reader

Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Straw hat!reader, Monkey D. Luffy, Roronora Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Arlong

Warnings: Fluff, fighting, the asshole Arlong, Sanji being subtlety flustered, you take lots of naps, Sanji being adorable as hell, everyone worrying over you, protect Nami plan is a go, Sanji being like a boyfriend but nothing's official

Word Count: 1,849

A/N: Reader sleeps a lot because her abilities take up a lot of her energy.

Reader also had a lot of hair and it sometimes gets in their face so she has to flip their head upside down and then back up or run their hand through their hair to see.

Reader has a jacket like Mihawk but it goes down to her knees otherwise she'll trip

This man... is something else

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

You enter the restaurant and slip past the host in search of your crew. You can hear Luffy and know exactly where they are. You stand in front of the table, "you guys ditched me."

"You were still sleeping," says Luffy.

"You didn't wake me up," you tell them with a pout.

"We tried to," Nami tells you.

"You’re the one that wouldn’t wake up," Zoro adds, glancing at you; wondering if you’ll even make it through the meal.

-

Sanji glances your way and notices your figure standing in front of an unattended table.

He admires your jacket as he heads over.

-

"Fine, you tried. Now move over, stretchy." You try to move him only to fail, which your captain laughs at. You roll your eyes and walk over him, Usopp being kind enough to scooch over, so you have room.

You sit at the top of the booth. You didn't realize it, but you zoned out until Nami smacked your leg. Your jaw drops as you rub the spot. "Ow. Was that necessary?"

She gestures to the blond standing in front of the table.

"And for the madam?"

"What are we doing?"

Nami and Zoro roll their eyes.

"We're ordering our drinks," Usopp tells you.

"Ah, right. Water."

"And would the madam like stilled, sparkling, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"

The corner of your lip twitches. "Well, aren’t we sweet? You want to please all the ladies you, see?"

His head drops, he glances at the ground before looking back up, staring at you through his lashes and hair. "Only the ones who entice me with their beauty."

"I'll let you surprise me."

"Excellent choice, madam. You will not be let down."

"I know I won't."

"What was that?" Zoro asks.

"What?" You turn to him.

He starts rattling off everything Sanji said.

"He was being polite."

"To you," the orange haired girl mutters.

"Huh?"

"He only called me madam once and then you stole his attention. Clearly there was something about you that caught his eye."

"I don’t think so."

Every single kind of water he offered was brought to the table.

-

After Zoro loses the battle and the head chef along with the blond come in to help him, you two start talking each time he's here.

"I smell food," you lean against the doorway.

He chuckles, "I would certainly hope so. You're the only one who hasn't eaten. Are you worried that worried about your friend?"

"Of course, I'm worried about the idiot but not enough to lose too much sleep over him. My abilities take up a lot of my energy and sleeping helps me. I was napping."

He nods, "ah, now that makes sense." He glances up from the ingredients he grabbed. "Would you like to eat something?"

You nod, "I would, kind of why I came down here."

"I know. How do you feel about exposing your palate to an array of flavors?"

"I think I made a mistake."

He shakes his head, smiling. "Nonsense. I'm going to make you an unforgettable meal."

-

You were up on the roof when Argon and his crew entered.

You secure the rope around your waist before jumping down. "Why are you picking on people less than half your size?"

"Who are you?"

"Someone who's already kicked your bony nosed ass."

He growls, realizing who you are.

"You want to fight someone? Fight me," you smirk. "I'm a better opponent than stretchy." You tug at the rope, rolling it up. "Come on, then. Try to hit me."

He comes at you, and you dodge him.

Again.

And again.

And again.

He growls before his hand clamps down on your jacket (something you made sure happened on purpose).

"Don't touch my jacket."

"Why? You gonna cry if I do."

"No," you grab his hand and twist his wrist, "you might. Clone shift."

He's baffled at the sight of him, standing before him. "Stop it. Turn back."

"Nope."

He and Luffy are outside before you can stop him.

"Hey, you two idiots."

His crew turns to you, eyes widening at the sight of their captain even though he just walked out the door.

You punch the two of them hard enough for them to roll on the dock outside the restaurant.

-

You walk over to check on Sanji and Usopp, the former taking a big hit on his back.

"Are you two-" you groan and hold onto the railing as you shift back to yourself.

Blood catches the story teller's eye. "Did you take some of Zoro's cut?"

All the pain in his body left him as the blond urges forward to catch you.

"So, what? It's nothing. I can take it."

"You overexerted yourself enough already. Come on," Sanji says, helping you up.

"Are we going to help Luffy?"

"We are, you're not."

You let out a small disagreeing noise.

"Don't argue with me."

-

You all catch the sight of the energetic captain falling into the water and rush over.

Sanji's quicker than you and takes action. He throws off his shirt and jacket before diving in.

You force yourself to stay awake and not pass out.

His head pops up back in the surface.

Usopp helps haul the rubber man onto the dock.

You hold a handout for the chef, but he doesn't take it. "Where's Nami?"

"She's gone. She's apart of Arlong's crew," Usopp tells Luffy.

Sanji's body slumps down, his butt resting on the heels of his feet.

Dots cloud your vision and your feet sway, you knew the second you cloned, you were done.

Sanji and Usopp catch you before you could fall.

The blond man leaning down to listen to your heartbeat and make sure you're- "She's still breathing."

"She," Luffy takes a deep breath, his voice coming out scratchy. "She did too much."

"We need to get you two back on your ship."

-

You wake up and find yourself in your room.

You sit up, finding no one else here.

You grab your jacket and make your way to the kitchen.

-

"He convinced you?"

Sanji jumps, not expecting you to be awake. "Are you hungry?"

You nod and slowly make your way over to the couch. "No objections. I'll take whatever the chef makes."

"That can get dangerous if you say that to the wrong person."

"Good thing I'm just talking to you."

The corner of his lips twitch as gets back to work.

"Hey, I just-" Usopp smiles when he sees you here. "You're up. How're feeling?"

"Hungry and tired."

"The usual, cool. I wasn't worried, at all." He stops in front of the chef. "What's new on today's menu?"

"Not for you."

He gasps, "rude. I fought in that battle too, you know."

"You crawled away like a bug being found under a log."

He whines when you out him.

The other two enter the kitchen.

Zoro glances at you, "you're an idiot."

"Way to make a girl feel special asshole."

"You're going to have a scar."

"You're welcome for making sure you don't die because of your own mistake, moron."

He leans against the wall, watching over everyone.

Luffy stretches his arms out to hug you, letting his body slam into you. "You're awake. Are you okay? You passed out. Is that always normal?"

Usopp smacks the captain, "get off her. She just woke up, you're not helping."

"Food is ready."

"Time to eat!"

"No," Sanji smacks Luffy with the dish towel. "The lady gets hers first."

You stick your tongue out at your friend. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

"Other than my good looks."

The green haired man rolls his eyes, "would you stop flirting and feed the idiot before he steals the food."

"Not until the lady gets hers."

"The lady will be fine."

"You call yourself a man. A true man would make sure-"

You flick the two of them on their foreheads. "Shut up."

You give Luffy and Usopp their bowls, "eat you animals."

-

"Oh, we told the town of your sacrifice," you explain to Nami.

"We didn't know. Could you ever forgive us?" The guard asks.

"This is going to be a massacre," the orange haired girl says.

"For them," you crack your knuckles. "I got this."

Usopp thins his lips, "I don't think so. You're just gonna lose consciousness again."

"Why don't I knock you unconscious?"

Sanji steps forward and pulls you off the side. "Excuse her, she was woken up from a nap." He covers your ears. "She's cranky."

You smack his hands off you.

-

You sit on the wall, watching as everyone fights. It was the smart move, save more of your energy.

It was only when they started bad mouthing Nami that you really started getting fired up. "Woah! Hey! Hey!" You grab a rock and throw it at the fishman's head. "Don't bad mouth my friend!"

Sanji removes his jacket without removing his gaze.

"Now you've done it," Zoro mumbles.

You jump down and walk towards the green haired man.

Sanji doesn't stop until the fishman has been taken care of.

Zoro judges the chef, with him calling out his finishing move.

"Ignore him. You did good, Sanji."

He lowers his head, unable to respond to your comment.

Zoro shakes his head, not in the mood to deal with his pining.

Usopp makes his way back to you.

"Nice of you to join us."

The storyteller smiles. "Yeah, just- uh- wish I didn't miss so much of this."

You glance at Zoro and raise a brow, both of you knowing that he doesn't mean it.

The green haired man just gives him a look of disappointment.

Nami runs away from the deteriorating building and glances back over her shoulder. She turns back and runs towards you guys.

Sanji opens his arms with a smile, "Nami!"

She ignores him and throws her arms around the second in command and storyteller.

You offer him a sorry look before turning around at the sound of her calling your name. "Are you okay?" You ask.

Instead of replying she throws her arms around you, holding you tightly. "Thank you."

"Why?"

"You and Luffy gave me something I never thought I could have."

You smile. "Alright kid, get off me." You wipe her under eyes, making sure no one knew how much she was crying. You pat Sanji's shoulder, "she just doesn't know you yet."

"That would make sense."

"Where's Luffy?"

"He's still in there, fighting Arlong."

You huff, "why can't he wait for help?" You groan and start to take a step forward when they stop you.

The chef grabs your wrist and pulls you back. "Nope."

"Are you nuts?" Usopp asks. "I mean seriously. You want to fight that fishman?!"

"I'm not going to let Luffy-" The building collapses. "Great! My oldest friend is-"

"Nami! We are you're friends! We are your crew!"

"Still alive! Yay!" You jump up and down before throwing yourself into the blond's arms.

"Look who finally got their hug."

"Shut up, Nami."

Continue to: Part II

[alchemistc]

for the intimacy prompts, it's buck & tommy so of course gotta go with #7 kissing scars or #50 patching up a wound or whichever other prompt sparks joy for u <3

Buck's late. Holy shit he is so late. He'd promised Maddie he'd be at the house like, half an hour ago, but he'd gotten caught up in a conversation with Jana from B shift on his way out the door and it'd been just enough time to cause an extra half hour backup on the highway that had clogged up all his usual back road routes, too.

With this in mind, he's rushing as he parks the Jeep, barely paying any attention as he shoves his door closed and practically sprints up the walkway.

And of course, of course, he's jittery, rushing, so it takes him three tries to get the key in the lock, and by the time he swings the door open with apologies on his lips, he sort of wants the floor to just swallow him up.

There's no Maddie. There's no Maddie or Chim, who would definitely be standing in the entryway giving him shit for somehow ending their shifts at the same time and still managing to be late.

All there is is the faint sound of voices coming from down the hallway, so he follows those until he catches the light leaking out from the open door of the bathroom.

As he nears, the voices become a little clearer. Jee says something, too soft for Buck to catch, a little strain in her voice he's vaguely concerned about until the other voice responds, in a familiar cadence that has Buck stopping dead in his tracks for half a heartbeat before he remembers - crap, he'd invited Tommy over, too, when it became clear it was the only 'free' night they'd have for like, six days, and now not only is he late to babysit his own niece but he's left Tommy the task of sending Maddie and Chim off on their date.

Buck ignores the little skip of his heartbeat at the idea that Maddie and Chim had felt comfortable just ... leaving Jee in Tommy's hands. That's a dumb train of thought - Chim knows Tommy, and Maddie hasn't made a secret of how much she likes Tommy, too, there's no reason to get gooey about it.

"...and viola!" comes Tommy's exclamation, and in the bathroom, Jee giggles. He must be making a face, or doing some gesturing. Jee's a little obsessed with Tommy, still, just as enchanted as Buck by the way his focus is always so intent when she's telling him something, by the way he's always got a follow up question, by the way he's not remotely afraid to dissolve into giggles with her.

"Now you!" Jee exclaims, and Buck knocks on the doorframe, tilts his head in to get the scope of things. Jee's up on the counter, legs kicking, a bright orange bandage on her knee and the box in her hand being brandished in Tommy's face where he's kneeling on the bathroom floor. There's a tube of Neosporin open next to her, and some bloody paper towels in the trash, but Tommy and Jee both glance up at him with smiles on their faces.

"Hi Jee," Buck says, and Jee waves, in that weird age where she'll be talking a mile a minute and then go completely mute for like twenty minutes until she's had time to process something. She kicks at the cabinet below her and shakes the box of Band-Aids at Tommy's head, and Buck gets the message. "Hi, Tommy."

Something soft and quiet passes between them. Buck's trying to be cool about this relationship, but there are times where the comparisons start to rattle around in his brain, a bit, and he's - it's never felt like this. He can't imagine Chim and Maddie even feeling comfortable enough to leave Jee alone with Natalia or Taylor, let alone actually asking them to join him for an evening of Bluey and hotdog Mac and Cheese. And it's - maybe he's just older, more settled in his bones. Maybe the secret sauce is those relationships not working out, so that Buck knew exactly what he was looking for, and what he wasn't. He's grateful for that, but mostly he thinks it's just Tommy - how steady he is, how grounded, how one look from Tommy can ease a days worth of worries crawling under Buck's skin.

"Sixty words a minute for the last forty-five and suddenly you don't wanna talk to your Uncle Buck?" Tommy teases, massive hand curling around the bottom of Jee's foot to shake her leg, and Jee giggles and ducks, arms crossing and head shaking 'no' as she presses her heel into Tommy's palm and nearly launches herself into the mirror behind her. Buck slides a hand behind her head to steady her - clearly she's a little accident prone today, and he's not particularly in the mood for a visit to the hospital this evening.

The movement brings him close enough for Tommy to touch, and he wraps his free hand around Buck's calf, squeezing for a moment before he uses it as leverage to lift himself off the bathroom floor. This bathroom isn't nearly large enough for two grown ass men standing shoulder to shoulder, they barely fit toe to toe.

"Hi," Buck says, when Tommy comes level with him, chests brushing and a familiar fond look in his eye.

"Hi," he repeats, grin going wide, and next to them Jee squirms and grabs at both their arms.

"No kiss!"

Buck tilts his head, and Tommy mirrors it, brow raised. "You heard the lady," he admonishes in a wry tone when Buck's gaze darts immediately for his lips.

This doesn't seem to satisfy Jee-Yun, who leans forward to smack at Tommy's wrist. "No, kiss!"

The change in tone is enough for both of them to glance down at her. She's pointing at her bandaged knee, which makes a lot more sense. Shed spent the last 118 barbeque demanding every couple in her immediate eyeline kiss for her entertainment, like an extremely cute fork against a champagne glass.

Buck's not thinking about weddings, though. He's not.

(He absolutely is, but at least he and Tommy have, like, talked about it. In vague hypotheticals, but... still.)

Jee slaps her knee for emphasis.

Clearly whatever she did hadn't injured her too badly, but there is a rule. You bandage something, you gotta kiss it better.

Tommy eyes the distance back to the floor like he's eighty years old, not a fit forty, so Buck makes it easier on all of them by squeezing in and swinging Jee over his shoulders, her legs fucking pinwheeling enough to force Tommy to duck as her breathless giggles fill the echoing tiles of the bathroom. Settled onto Buck's shoulders, Jee digs her fingers into Buck's hair, and Tommy leans in and makes an exaggerated smacking noise as he presses his lips to her bandage.

She shifts her weight, pleased, and tugs hard on Buck's ear. "Okay, now kiss," she demands, and Tommy snorts with laughter as he leans in.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Companion (unofficial) ficlet to this masterpiece! Many thanks to @rustingcat for both creating the art and accepting my own humble offering.

Lena runs. She runs and runs and runs. She runs until her lungs burn and her bare feet are torn and bleeding from the detritus of the forest floor, and then keeps running.

She can't tell if he's following on her trail, or how close he may be. She can't hear anything but the thundering of her heart and the desperate, ragged rasping of her breath.

If she stops, she knows she'll feel the pulsing pain of the swelling bruises on her face. She'll feel the sharp stabbing pain of her broken wrist. Whoever he was, he hadn't been gentle with her when she'd resisted and pulled away from him. Something in his eyes had been sharp and hateful-- a glint that had promised when he was done, when he catches her, she wouldn't live to tell the tale.

So she runs. As fast and as far as she can.

Then she trips, her feet tangling in a mess of roots and weeds. She sprawls hard and undignified, chin scraping the ground with enough force to make her teeth rattle in her head. The fall knocks the breath from her, and she wheezes, flat on her stomach, until she can force air back into her lungs.

She's no longer among the trees. The world is lightening with the imminent twilight of morning, allowing her to see the woods have ended and that she'd somehow, some way, emerged at the side of the road.

Painfully rolling to one side, Lena tries to push back to her feet-- only to collapse to one knee as her left ankle gives out. Agony races from her toes to her knee, a blaze of fire that doubles when she tries again.

"Shit," she sobs, fear and despair chasing at her now immobile heels. "Shit, shit shit!"

"Lena?"

The voice sounds distant, then very very close.

"LENA!"

Then Kara, Supergirl, is there in front of her. In an instant, the panic dims, blanketed to silence as the weight of a hero's cape settles around her shoulders. Against the backdrop of a pinkening sky, Kara's pinched, worried features jar against the exhaustion that now tugs at Lena.

"Are you okay?" Kara asks frantically. Her words words tremble, and even her breaths seem to shake in her chest.

Doesn't she know that with her, Lena will always be safe?

Lena nods. "Yeah. I am now."

[shotmrmiller]

Pathetic Simon who gets given a new recruit to train. A big strong lady who isn't afraid to be paired with him for grappling practice. Who isn't intimidated by his stature and mask. I just love the thought of him being so desperate for the touch and then so horribly horny that he basically has to RUN to the bathroom after every round.

ARGH!

My woman is strong. She's got beautifully round delts, she's got big biceps and thick forearms. Her quads? Jacked. Back? Muscular. Arse? A wagon. Competes with Simon's.

That's what she is. Powerful. Because she won't be the one calling out for help in a sticky situation. They'll be calling for backup.

I digress.

Simon had to double-take to make sure what he was seeing walking onto the mat wasn't something out of his own wet dreams.

Her rough, calloused hands touch his forearms as they get into a grappling stance, and his cock is immediately stirring. The grip she holds his wrist in is so tight, it feels like one of those blood pressure cuffs.

Delicious.

Simon's spine rattles when he's thrown onto the mat, (he let himself just this once because he needs to know what it's like to get womanhandled around by her), and he stands up kinda stiff, and shakes her hand.

In the bathroom, he used the same hand she shook his with to wrap it around himself and imagined it was her own. It felt like it, too. His hand is a little rougher, but nothing his own mind can't fix.

Wanked himself literally raw. The idea of her hand chafing him from how tough it is sent him into a frenzy.

Now he goads her into being physical with him. Will block her way, and she'll grab him by the shoulders and shove.

bathroom.

Bumps into her with his shoulder, only to be bumped back later on and the force behind it tips him onto his heels.

bathroom.

He'll try to firmly close his office door with his hands as she's trying to come in and she'll line up her body with it— one deep breath later and she's slamming her shoulder into the center of it, forcing her entry.

Ghost almost came in his pants when the door crashed into him as she confidently walked inside, casting an expectant look in his direction.

He let her fight some other recruit, some sexist pig who claimed that he didn't want to hurt a little lady. Nothing about her is little.

And when Ghost was witness to the other recruit's body being catapulted across the floor he sprinted away with the excuse of "Gotta piss."

The only thing that came out of his cock then was cum.

btw, i need her to be a battering ram too? Can you imagine being a bad guy running away, you're almost at the door and then something with the strength of a wooly mammoth slams into you? My heads ricocheting off the wall and im falling unconscious.

And so is Ghost because all the blood in his head instantly rushed to his other head.

[carolmunson]

the moon had turned to gold.

(soft!eddie x badatfeelings!gf)

and we're back folks. i'm going through it so i had to revisit my kids. the badatfeelings!gf set is a series of ramblings with no rhyme or reason, flow of conciousness. not from a 'you' perspective but 'she/her' has no physical descriptors.

tw: depictions and descriptions of depression (eddie to the rescue). because i'm sad!

Her eyes have been half closed for days -- wakes up and gets out of bed, makes coffee, reads the paper, gets back in bed for an indescerable amount of time. More coffee, hand fulls of shredded cheese, water from the side table that's been there for days. She hasn't been going into work, just in the dark of her room while the hum of the window unit drones on and on and on. He knocks, opening the door to darkness despite the warm glow of golden hour outside -- her black out curtains a bigger success than she expected. She's awake but not really, eyes glazed over watching snow on the TV she moved to her bedroom.

Summer blues she called it, summertime sad. The air is stale, he can tell she hasn't moved much this morning. She hasn't moved much all month. "Hi." Quiet and soft, rounded edges in his voice, "Bad day?"

She uses whatever strength she has to lift her arm out of the covers and give him a thumbs down. He lets a huff of a laugh out of his nose, "Yeah, I see that." Despite laying in bed all day her body is tense and he knows that maybe she'll feel better about moving when she knows the sun is going down. He thought this vampire sleep schedule shit would've been sexier -- but it's not. It hurts to see her like this, so tired from just waking up, so sick of just existing. He's seen her cry more than he has in the years they've been together. But at least she's like -- crying. She never used to cry at all.

He sneaks onto the edge of the bed, his backside and hips nestling in the dip of her waist over the covers, "Do you know what would be nice?"

"Hm?" she asks, body heavy while she flops over to put an arm around where she can reach. "Taking a shower," he offers, hand resting on her hair, thumb grazing her forehead, "You always feel a little better after." "Mhm," she nods sleepily. "I can put your jammies in the drier so they're cozy when you come out," he smiles, voice still soft, still rounded edges. Her lashes flutter before she looks up at him, glassy and glazed, half here half not. Zombie girlfriend, vampire girlfriend, monster girlfriend, sad girlfriend. She's so pretty, he thinks.

"Yeah," she nods.

"Yeah to the jammies in the drier?" he asks. "Yeah," she says, her voice is quiet -- meek. 'Yeah' was her first word of the day. "That," she nods again, deep breath in through the nose and it rattles at the exhale, "Shower, too."

He helps her up and hears the crack in some of her bones, the stiffness in her joints while her face contorts at the change in position. She's been in the same sleep shirt for three days, some field day shirt from college. Green socks on her feet, the tops shoved down her ankles, one nearly falling off. No crumbs in her bed at least -- he knows she's too anxious for that. But the dishes aren't done and the bag of shredded cheese is abandon on the counter. Mugs of varying fullness off coffee are sitting in random placeholders in the small apartment. Forgetful -- foggy.

"C'mon," he coos, pulling her in at the shoulders to take her to the bathroom. She's so tired from doing nothing that she can't help but keep doing nothing. He pulls off her sleep shirt and panties, he helps with the socks, turning the shower on to a medium heat. Forhead kiss, cheek kiss, cheek kiss. Poor baby.

"Do you need help getting in?"

She shakes her head no.

"What do you want to wear for PJs?"

She shrugs. He figured she would.

He pulls back the shower curtain and she gets inside, he waits for the inevitable sigh she lets out when the water hits her. He peeks in, her naked body not important the way it usually is -- its those eyes, half closed -- less sad, less sleepy. Contemplative, alive. Half dead lover. His ghoulish girl.

"I'll leave them in here for when you're done."

He knows he has time to clean up for her -- easy to get lost in the void when you stand in the shower and that's where she is. Here and gone and here and gone again. Tongue tucked away between her teeth -- he almost misses when she's mean. He misses her so bad, but he takes what he can get, even if it's putting sweats in the drier.

When the hot water runs out she emerges, wet hair dripping down onto the new t-shirt -- still warm like the sweats on her legs. Fresh linen scent radiating off her like her coconut conditioner. She doesn't even care that the rest of the house is warm and sticky from the air outside. It's fresher now, he opened the windows and did the dishes. Cleaned out all the mugs. Opened your bedroom door to let the coolness flow to some of the house, too make things less stale. He lit two candles, sugar cookie scented -- it's all you ever bought because that's his favorite.

"Thank you," voice still meek. Still under twentywords today. Eyes a little more open. He puts down the mug he was drying and tosses the hand towel over the faucet of the sink.

"S'no problem, baby," soft round edges, soft round boy. Patched vest left behind on the kitchen table chair, soft cut off t-shirt left behind. Tattooed arms outstretched to her in the sterile light of the kitchen, the sun is down now -- the stars starting to peek out of a dark navy sky.

She lets herself get pulled into him and it feels like it's happening in slow motion -- face in his chest, he closes in on her like a wave. The pressure is welcomed -- she's alive but barely. Biceps crush on her shoulder blades, her neck cracks -- reanimator boyfriend, zombie girlfriend. Living glass doll that feels better off dead. She falls into the hold while he sways with her, chin on her wet hair.

"Blue moon, you saw me standing alone..." he sings quietly while he sways, his own eyes shutting, "C'mon, sing it with me." He feels her head move in a 'no' on his chest. "It's your favorite," he argues, "It'll feel good." Another sigh -- the inevitable. "Without a dream in my heart..." He smiles at her voice, coming out a little stronger than before, he snickers before beginning again. "Without a love of my own..."

"Blue moon," they start together, he smiles a little stronger. She's doing her best so he doesn't push it when she doesn't keep singing. He peers down while he continues, her eyes are closed against his chest but she feels alive. Just safer. The kind of safe where she'll sleep good tonight, might even eat breakfast tomorrow.

"And then suddenly, appeared before me..."

He shakes her to the beat the song normally has, bum bum bum bum. She huffs a chuckle a the shimmying, smile stretching against the warm fabric of his shirt, the inhale like laundry detergent and summer heated skin. "The only one my arms will ever hold, I heard somebody whisper, 'Please, adore me'..."

"That's me," she interrupts, he pulls her in tighter, the sway stops slow. "Yeah," he sighs out, "That's you. Dropped right outta the sky." "Yeah," she says, head tilting up. The whites of her eyes glisten despite the redness creeping in at the edges. "I ordered pizza," he says, "Cause I know you didn't eat."

Her brows furrow, mouth souring.

"I know, I'm awful," he giggles, "Gotta feed the girl in your brain that isn't so sad -- that's my girl in there."

"M'still your girl even when I'm sad," voice back to sleepy meekness, she yawns.

"Yeah, you are," he confirms sweetly, plush lips pressing against her forhead, "Always my girl."

In the cool white green light of the kitchen they stand in damp solitude -- with a heave of her chest she starts to cry. He doesn't need to know the reason, just as long as she does -- as long as he's there to hold her through it. Alive girl. Fully alive in the darkness of another deep blue summer night.

And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold.

more badatfeelings here

[witchofthesouls]

Have Miko ever lost her squishy?

She's hyperaware of her favorite toy. The closest she comes to losing it is whenever it needs to be washed since Miko drags that thing everywhere.

The mechs had learned the hard way to completely buckle her in with a swarm of seatbeats to limit her mobility. Otherwise, she'll be jumping up and down, clawing up their interiors as she explores every inch to escape to fetch her squishmallow.

Arcee had witnessed the impressive sight of Miko rattling inside Bulkhead so hard that the armored vehicle was bouncing on his wheels.

(The only mech she doesn't attempt to claw up is Optimus. Not only does he have extensive room for her to pace and wander, but he has no issue with shaking her by the scruffbar with his seatbelts like a naughty kitten with resounding firm 'no' with his own field. Not enough to completely overwhelm her, but to make a point that she can't carve his sensitive components.)

If the Autobots had an industrial sized washer and dryer at their base, Miko would have planted herself right at the windows to watch it. Only leaving to grab the closest 'bot, climbing all over their frames and insistently tugging EM fields to change the washer to dryer and dryer to Miko's little servos.

And if the Autobots had laundry facilities, they would need to sparkling proof it with so many locks and perimeter sensors. Miko would try to tumble inside a washer cycle, and Raf would try to snack on the machines' exposed cables and the detergent.

[ghoulsbeard]

Strange, to begin with: bright sun from sun-up, and a cloudless sky, a high fast wind. Spring, in Skyrim; Kynareth must be laughing. Faralda strides bridge and battlement with her collar turned down and her hair swept up, to feel the sunlight on her skin.

The sea of ghosts seethes cheerfully at the rocks below the college. Gulls wheel and scream. The air is bright enough to see how bare and brown the main courtyard stands; a glittering chorus of icicles drips along their statuary... a few gaps, where prentices have knocked them loose with snowballs or sticks.

"You," Colette Marence barks from the great rime-frosted doors. "Hold! Hold right there!"

Their mistress of restoration is a font of unflagging energy; it is not past ten and she storms about the place like a stalking cloud of Aurbic lightning. The spring sunshine, weak as watered wine, draws roses from her tired cheeks. Her hair has already flown out of its tail in a curly brown-and-silver cloud.

"I've been looking everywhere for you.” A bony accusing finger waves around Faralda's face. "Have you seen the master wizard?"

"It's mid-morning," says Faralda. "She'll be beating Aren's carpets."

Colette gives her a look, a hairy look-- "She is not with the Archmage. I have already spoken with him; he has not seen her at all this morning."

"He wouldn't see the nose on his own face," Faralda grunts. "Well, and what do you want? Shall I shake him until Ervine falls from his pockets?"

"Your trouble, Mistress Faralda, is that no one boxed your ears when you were a young hellion. Younger," she amends. "I'm off to the lecture halls. I wish you'd see to her chambers."

"If there's a corpse, I'll summon you and Phinis."

"Mara mind your tongue!" Colette snaps. She's knitting her fingers guiltily together. "If you... I would owe you a favor."

"Don't be silly." Faralda claps a hand to her stooped shoulders. The wind is turning: pine and fresh snow, distant smoke. She tramps up salted steps to wander the College warren.

The master wizard's door is shut and locked. Faralda beats it until it rattles against the lintel. "Ervine," she barks. "Are you yet living?"

Magefire sputters on the wall. The long row of living quarters is otherwise quiet, at this hour; down in the common, prentices squeal and bicker. Tolfdir's reeling laughter rings from the stones. She's leaned against the doorway, lighting her pipe, when the lock sighs through a weak spell and clicks open.

Ervine's door likes to jam in warmer weather; Faralda shoves it open with a shoulder, wood and hinges wailing, and slams it shut again behind herself. The room is a tall dark cavern, smelling of herbs and burnt wax.

From the lone window-- small and thin-- a bar of white sunlight.

"It is you," a voice croaks. There is a rattle of a cough, or laughter. "I thought I was dreaming again. What do you want?"

The darkness resolves into shades of grey and brown. A shrubbish shadow, buried in the bed, with a weary round face, grieved and pasty. The stump of a candle on the bedside table, a stack of letters, a stick of wax. A green jar of ink. An empty cup.

"What ails you, master wizard?"

Ervine breaks into true laughter, then. She has never heard the woman laugh before, and hates the sound of it at once-- sour and pitiless.

"I am perfectly capable of my duties. Come a little closer and see for yourself."

She does, with her fingers twitching for a long curved dagger she no longer carries. Over-tired, she imagines Colette's diagnosis, in her clipped tones. Over-worked. Hale, besides. Constitution of an ox.

Something in her eyes, she thinks. She's seen a few deckhands with that look, that dullish beady glint... "You are not prone to fits of melancholy."

"You do possess a lovely arrogance, Faralda."

"So you've taken after Aren." She casts a disgusted hand about the dark room. "Licking your wounds in a drab little hole."

Ervine's dark eyes flash when she lifts her face. "Go to Colette. Tell her I shall see her at noon for a tisane."

She should have directly ordered 'get out'. Faralda bares her teeth in what might pass for a smile. "I will not."

"Will you not?" Tired amusement.

The cup catches her eye. "I'll fetch your tisane."

"Never mind the tisane."

"Berries, then." She draws her bag from within her sleeve, cloudberries and a little elk jerky, and sets it on Ervine's blanketed lap, and pulls it open with a finger. "Eat. You look like death."

"I really couldn't," Ervine says, in the same stern voice she uses to admonish prentices and professors alike. "Put that away, if you would."

"Hemicrania."

"Of a sort." She ought to look shrunken and small, swathed up miserably like this. She's as grand and stolid as ever. The grave face. The firm steadfast mouth. "You can tell Colette I said so."

Faralda risks another long, searching look at the letters. The seal on the first is freshly broken. Ervine winces. Her thick hand knots itself in the blanket.

"Ill news, was it?"

No reply. She watches Ervine's face. The twitch in her cheek; the hair standing greasily on the side of her head. "I'm sorry," she offers, and Ervine looks up fast as a gannet, and her mouth twists, and she barks laughing.

"'Sorry'," she gasps, in between peals of barking bitter laughter. "'Sorry'. Yes. Of course."

Faralda reaches for her other hand, trembling atop Ervine's thigh, and feels her pulse rabbiting in the wrist. "It will pass."

"Ce jeu féroce et ridicule, quand doit-il finir?" She smiles. "As the poets say. Out, Faralda. You do not want to play nursemaid at my bedside, I think."

"Of course not." She lets Ervine's wrist fall. "I cannot leave without you, master wizard."

"No?" Ervine drops her smile to her lap, where her fingers are buried in the blanket. "No, she ordered you here. Most commendable."

"Do you know something, Ervine? I woke impatient this morning." She folds her arms. "Are you unwilling or unable?"

"You are a keeper of confidences, Mistress Faralda. I think you might keep this one."

"I might not."

Ervine crooks a finger, still smiling; of all things Faralda sits at the side of her bed, and feels the heat of her bulky calf and thigh. "He is dead a fortnight now. A week for the letter to sail to Skyrim-- half a week to Daggerfall, half from Solitude to our little holding. I cannot fathom why it was written. But he is dead."

Faralda eyes her. She cannot tell, from the wretched stillness in her face, or the trembling in her hand, who or what or whether to commiserate. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I myself am dead in those lands."

"Then the world has ended."

Ervine wrings the blanket in her fist. "I don't know that it has."

"It ought to."

"Yes," she says, eventually. "Yes, it ought. I don't know that it has."

"If the world hasn't ended," Faralda says, "and you aren't abed with pain or disease-- you can take a turn with me about the courtyard."

Ervine, smiling, shakes her head.

"Don't go to seed here, woman. Won't sort your mind any faster."

"What did you call it... licking my wounds?"

"Lick them outside in the fresh air."

"You may leave."

She turns to watch the unmoving sunlight. Her eyes glint in the shadows; the tip of her long, thick nose, the curves of her chins and soft jaw. Neither overly stern nor discernibly friendly. She ought to have been the sort of woman that Faralda liked, very much.

"Who was he to you?"

Ervine's face stills, save her mouth; the mouth trembles. She covers it with a hand.

"He was good to you, I hope."

"Not to anyone. Not to himself. Now he is dead."

"That much," says Faralda, "ought to be celebrated. Come down with me, master wizard. I'll buy you a drink at the Hearth."

Her dark eye is turned to the light, and glassy.

"Come down with me."

She wheels on Faralda, implacable as the polar night. "Why should you ask such things? Why should I give them to you?"

"You shouldn't," Faralda agrees. "I was born with my foot in my mouth, and I'm a scoundrel besides. But come down. Come down with me and have a little air." She offers a hand.

Ervine shuts her eyes and composes herself, with some trouble. Her throat pulses. "Very well," she says, in a thin voice. "Very well." 

The hallway is chilly and quiet. Mirabelle Ervine, now dressed in her robes, carrying pen and paperwork, trails Faralda out through the back entrance, along the shortcut to the crumbling stargazers' walk. She stops stunned when the door opens to clear sunlight, and the breeze blusters noisily in, lifting her hair from her cheek.

"What day is it?"

"The tenth of Rain's Hand."

"Sun," she puzzles, and pushes past. Noonday strikes bronze and a few shining greys from her hair. She winces at the light, raising a hand to her eyes. "What beautiful weather."

It is startlingly beautiful. The starkness of the bay; glittering snow and rock, foam and current, the city of the dead beneath the falling tide. Mirabelle Ervine's hair sparkling in the stiff breeze.

"Show me your shield," she says, to clear her head. This, too, she dislikes about their new master wizard; the woman has a remarkable talent for snarling up thoughts. Ervine raises an eyebrow, searches Faralda's face.

"Here?"

"Here and now."

Ervine studies her another moment, then twitches a fragment of a smile and stands wide-legged, just as she addresses the assembled collegium. She claps her hands together and slowly pulls the palms apart, fanning a thread of magic between them, up and out into a ward, full and fuller, warping like hot air as it goes.

Faralda tosses four spiraling mageflames, sharp as darts. Ervine swears viciously under her breath, but the ward holds against them.

"A little much, this early in the day," she comments. She looks less like a solemn corpse, Faralda decides. "Another."

Popular among mages of her persuasion to toss a few icicles, but Faralda has always favored claws of frost. The shield sputters.

"Passable work," Faralda allows. Ervine lets the ward drop, shaking her fingers as the spell dissolves wetly into thin air, and regards her with a bit of resigned amusement.

"Satisfied?"

"Not in the least."

Ervine laughs. It is unlike the rest-- deep and pleased. Faralda grits her back teeth.

"You should cast in a radial instead of a flat axis, master wizard."

"Should I." She comes up, smiling, to squeeze past Faralda's side. "I suppose a scholar of destruction would know."

Down in the courtyard, a gaggle of prentices are lunging about in the fine weather, chasing each other with wisps, turning cartwheels. The rest sun themselves under a few of the leafless trees, passing what look like scraps of paper back and forth, conferring in low, urgent voices. Young Brelyna paces at the gate, declaiming to herself. The wind carries most of her speech away.

Colette's eyes are huge and happy when Faralda leads the master wizard into the infirmary. "Mirabelle! How good to see you today. Let me make you a tisane. Put some color in those cheeks."

"I'm perfectly well, dear Colette."

"It'll only take a minute." She vanishes into the stockroom, rolling up her sleeves. "Tincture of..."

Ervine catches Faralda by the cuff before she can duck out and flee to the bridge. In the dim ring of blue magelight, her temper is unreadable. "We have our differences. I trust this will not be one of them."

"Peace, Mirabelle Master-Wizard," Faralda sneers. "I would not betray a colleague."

Ervine's fingers dig hard in her arm a moment; then she steps away, light calving over her face. "Very well."

The day is clear and crisp on the broken bridge; down in the Winterhold square, people come and go. She can feel where Ervine gripped her, even through her coat and robes. Absently, she rubs a thumb along the skin.

[beanarie]

here's another scene for the fic i posted a day or two ago. alternate title: rip philip buckley.

the messenger part two

"I don't want to go," Evan said.

Tommy glanced up from the flight listings on his tablet. Since finishing his delayed shower (alone), Evan had perched on the far end of the bed with his back turned. "All anyone there knew was a nineteen year-old who failed at everything. It- It was never home."

Tommy put the tablet aside. "Evan, I don't give a shit if you go or not." That was blunt even for him, bordering on cruel, but Evan gave a watery laugh. He heard what Tommy didn't say. You're the only thing I care about. Make the decision that's right for you.

Evan made a sad sound and crawled into Tommy's arms. "She's going to be so much," he grated out, his head against Tommy's chest. It wasn't comfortable. Evan ran warm as a baseline. Tonight he felt like he had a fever. "I don't think I can handle it. But I can't- I can't do that to Maddie. What kind of garbage person would make her deal with that alone?"

Tommy ran his fingers through Evan's damp hair. "Maddie won't be alone." Her husband was literally one of the best people Tommy had ever met. Howie had grabbed her hands the instant she and Evan had separated, and hadn't let go of her the entire time. He'd still been holding on when they'd left, Evan bringing up the rear toting a sleeping Jee-Yun.

"Not the same," Evan said, which was true, but Tommy didn't care, not right then.

Tommy looked over at his buzzing phone. "Listen-"

Evan didn't shake. He vibrated, a low level hum throughout his body. "Just let me pretend for a minute that we're not going."

"Okay."

One hand made a loose fist, gathering the fabric of Tommy's shirt at the small of his back. "We're gonna stay here on the other side of the country while they bury my dad. I won't have to hear my mom crying like her heart is in worse shape than his was. No one will tell me I'm a bad son who never came to visit."

Tommy rested his chin on the top of Evan's head. An angle his neck didn't enjoy, but it was worth it. "If anyone so much as thinks that in your direction, I will punch them in the throat."

Evan ran his fingers down Tommy's forearm. "They didn't even tell us he was having surgery."

"Would it have helped?" Tommy asked in all sincerity. They'd both witnessed death numerous times. Was it better when loved ones could see the loss coming? Not always.

"I don't know," Evan admitted. "But things were- they were better, you know? We talked on purpose sometimes and it went fine. I don't understand why they didn't at least tell Maddie."

"Do you think she'll try to throw it in your face at some point?"

Evan flinched, proving Tommy's guess had hit its mark. "God, I- I hate thinking of her that way. She's my mom."

"Motherhood doesn't come with emotional regulation, unfortunately."

"She was better," Evan said again. He exhaled loudly. "Maybe it- it won't be so bad."

"Maybe. I'm here regardless."

After a moment of silence, Evan lifted himself up with a hand on either side of Tommy's hips. They kissed quietly, and he laid his forehead on Tommy's shoulder. "What did I do," he asked, almost to himself. "What did I do to deserve you?"

If pressed, Tommy could rattle off a list. But Evan didn't need to hear about his willingness to set himself on fire for someone he loved, or about how he could see in a glance that Tommy was having a bad day, about how quickly he'd learned what Tommy needed at times like those. "You were you. That's all you ever needed to be."

[miasmaghoul]

Miasma I am begging you to bless us with Aurora/Cirrus classical orchestra AU, my head is full of chamber ghoulettes

This is...way more than three sentences lmfao. Idk, it took on a mind of its own. Not NSFW, but probably suggestive.

Warnings for mild emotional hurt/comfort, anxiety, D/s dynamics and safe, nonsexual choking.

Aurora chews the inside of her cheek, smoothing the front of her sleek black gown with trembling hands as she observes her reflection. She's the last one in the dressing room, the rest of the orchestra already lined up in the hall waiting to file on stage, the din of excitement bleeding through the door and making her stomach twist.

There's no reason for her to be so nervous - it's not her first performance, not even close. Hell, she's not even a soloist. Just one of ten cellists, and apparently the only one with sudden onset stage fright. She sucks in a shaky breath and shakes out her arms, the fine silver bangles on her left wrist jangling. She fusses over her honey colored curls, fiddles with the simple silver pendant around her neck, adjusts her shoulder straps - anything to delay the inevitable.

The doorknob rattles, impossibly loud for what it is, and Aurora freezes as her eyes dart to its reflection in her dressing table mirror.

A slender woman steps into the dressing room, clad in a sharp white suit with her jet black hair pulled back into a tight knot. Aurora's heart flutters in a different way when Cirrus lets the door click shut behind her. The sound of her heels against the floor sets off a cascade of goosebumps, and Aurora shivers as the hair on her arms stands up.

"You aren't in the lineup," Cirrus observes, stern. It's a tone Aurora knows well, one that certainly shouldn't be as comforting as it is. She feels Cirrus' hand come to rest on her lower back and it takes all of her willpower not to lean into the body beside her. She knows better. "Why?"

Aurora takes a deep breath before meeting her gaze in the mirror. Cirrus looks incredible, her simple makeup as elegant as her suit. The white doesn't wash her out. If anything, it makes her look all the more regal. Aurhoritative. As it should, Aurora supposes - a conductor should always command attention.

Aurora's eyes trace the neckline of her blazer where it plunges south. The partially unbuttoned silk blouse beneath it revealing lovely, pale skin - and a simple silver pendant. Aurora stares at it while she touches her own necklace, the matching pair of them shimmering in the glow of the dressing table lights. She swallows, forcing a deep breath through her nose.

"I don't know," she admits, wringing her hands. "I just...I got nervous."

It comes out as little more than a shameful whisper, but she knows Cirrus hears it. Cirrus hears everything.

"About?"

A cool, steady finger reaches out to caress her arm and Aurora's attention snaps to it. Cirrus' touch is electric as ever.

"I...I don't know," she repeats, clenching her fists. "I was fine earlier, but...but as soon as I saw everyone, out there I just -"

Aurora cuts herself off with a shake of her head, gesturing at the mirror as thought it could speak for her. Cirrus offers a thoughtful hum, and Aurora glances over at her. Takes in the sharp lines of her face and imagines what she'll look like on stage, baton in hand. Moving easy as the breeze itself, guiding them all through page after page of rich, vibrant music.

"Do you need my help, little bird?"

Aurora blinks up at her - even in her own sky high heels, Cirrus towers over her slight form - as the question swirls around her anxious mind. One she's been asked so many times before, when this same feeling has taken hold of her rational mind and left her feeling woefully out of control. The meaning behind them clicks when Cirrus tilts her head, eyes tracing the rosy column of Aurora's neck, and with a deep sigh she sags against the dressing table.

"Please," she whispers, straightening up before Cirrus can demand it. She manages a deep breath as she turns, lifting her chin and exposing her throat entirely. "Please, Sir," she says, and it earns her a loving caress along an exposed clavicle.

"That's my girl," Cirrus murmurs, and without a moment's pause long, elegant fingers encircle Aurora's throat. Not squeezing - not yet - fingertips resting over her thrumming pulse. "Deep breath."

Aurora's eyes slip shut as she obeys the gentle order, sucking down air until she can't possibly hold any more. The tension threaded through her muscles starts to coalesces in her chest, a swirling mass of stress creeping closer and closer to the place Cirrus' hand holds her. She savors her exhale as she reaches for Cirrus' arm, her own fingers trembling as the grabs hold, a little contact needed to ground herself for what's to come. Cirrus reaches up to cup her cheek, and Aurora looks up at her with wide eyes and parted lips.

"Do you need me?"

Aurora nods, gripping Cirrus's sleeve tighter. The other woman leans down and kisses her cheek, and finally, finally, her hand start to tighten. Slowly, though. Cirrus always starts slow - she adores the way Aurora's eyes slide put of focus far too much to rush. Fingertips press into her arteries and Aurora's knees wobble, that spiral of anxiety caught in her chest already starting to fade to distant static.

"Do you trust me?"

Another nod, more fervent - she doesn't trust anyone as much than she trusts Cirrus. The scent of her perfume clings in Aurora's nose, jasmine on a warm summer night, and more of her panic dissipates. Cirrus kisses Aurora's other cheek, breath warm against her soft skin, and her grip tightens even more. Aurora's vision begins to blur just as Cirrus pulls back - not far, but enough to look her in the eye.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes," Aurora gasps, a squeak more than anything else, but it's all she needs. The hand on her throat squeezes, building pressure in her head chasing away the last dregs of the fear that had gripped her moments ago.

Cirrus kisses her then, closed mouthed but still devastating. It steals what little air remains in her lungs, a rush of air through her nose, and as her pulse pounds in her ears it drowns out anything that isn't Cirrus. Her eyes fall closed, and just as she starts to go limp -

"Now fly."

Cirrus' hand vanishes, blood rushes to her head in a flood of endorphin-induced ecstacy, and Aurora collapses against her while she gulps down breath after breath. The room spins when she opens her eyes, but it doesn't matter - all that matters is the way Cirrus' arms feel wrapped around her oxygen deprived body. One hand rubs her back, cool against the skin exposed by her gown, and Aurora focuses on that soothing motion while her world rights itself.

"You did beautifully," Cirrus coos, stroking her hair without mussing her perfectly bouncy curls. Aurora sighs, a deeply pleased sound. "How are you feeling now, little bird?"

"Better," Aurora murmurs, feeling much looser than she had a few minutes ago. The icy flood of anxiety permeating her system is long gone, replaced with a pleasant lightness that makes her lips curl at the corners She wraps her arms around Cirrus' waist, giving her a squeeze before she steps back to smile up at the other woman. "Thank you for finding me," she breathes, nuzzling into Cirrus' hand when she hold her cheek again.

"I'll always find you, Ro," Cirrus replies, leaning down to kiss her forehead, and Aurora beams up at her. "Now," she says, pulling back to straighten her blazer, "shall we?"

Cirrus gestures at the door to the hall, and the butterflies in Aurora's stomach this time around are ones of pure excitement. She nods and gathers her booklet of sheet music, checking her makeup one just time before she leaves. It's still perfect, of course. Cirrus would never mar it - well, not on a night like this at least.

When she turns Aurora finds Cirrus holding out her hand, and she gladly takes it. Together they walk into the hall, and as Aurora joins her section Cirrus kisses the back of her hand.

They file on stage, she sees Cirrus standing tall on her podium, and Aurora knows this will be her best performance yet.

[stevie-petey]

I have a blurb idea!! When Jonathan, Nancy , Joyce and will get back from the cabin and the kids fill everyone in on what happened while they were gone. Dustin would absolutely reenact Steve and Billy fighting and bug and Billy fighting. You can't tell me Dustin and the kids would be kinda proud that bug held her own against Billy for the most part. Jonathan hearing about bug protecting Steve from Billy and Steve protecting bug in the tunnels. Would Jonathan feel a little upset that bug doesn't need him to protect her anymore, that is Steve's job now?

i absolutely love this one omg yes i adore doing scenes with just steve n jon their friendship makes me <333

enjoy !

"wheres bug?"

steve and the kids are sweeping the floors, quiet and tired as the events from tonight finally settle upon them. when they hear jonathans question, they all stop what theyre doing. a dark look passes over steves bloodied and bruise face, a sight that only makes the ice within jonathans throat constrict tighter.

will is asleep in jonathans arms, and when no one answers his question his panic overwhelms him and he feels his grip on will lessen. "steve, wheres y/n?"

steve steps forward, understanding jonathans fear more than anyone else in this room. "shes okay, i promise."

"but where is she?"

"in your room, asleep. she... shes had a rough night." steve looks away, ashamed that he couldnt protect you.

"she got her ass kicked." dustin says blunty.

jonathans head spins. "what?"

joyce and nancy now walk in and quickly notice your absence. their own worry begins to rise. when mike sees nancy, he runs up to her and starts rattling off question after question about el, will, if she wants to see him, dustin, and lucas reenact you and steve fighting billy.

"you guys fought billy?" nancy exclaims, now stepping towards steve as well. she misses the way jonathans hands shake as he struggles to hold his brother. hes terrified. if you fought billy, why arent you here right now to brag about how you won? did he hurt you? did jonathan send you back to the hospital again?

its joyce who sees her sons panic. she gently grabs will from her oldest and kisses his cheek. her voice is low so that no one else hears. while steve understands jonathans fear for your safety, joyce understands his love for you. "shes strong. she'll be okay."

they leave and dustin and the boys jump into their reenactment of the fight. mike pretends to be billy while dustin is you and lucas is steve. they jump on one another, scream and throw plates, and when dustin jumps onto mikes back as he has lucas on the ground, something in jonathans stomach twists.

"y/n totally saved steves ass!" dustin whoops as he rides around mikes back.

nancy and jonathan look over to steve, who has been quiet the entire time, and when he catches their eye he lets out a soft chuckle and shrugs. "she did. seems we cant stop saving each other."

jonathan frowns, about to ask what he means by that, but then mike starts choking dustin and dustin pretends to faint and once again his head spins.

"did billy..." nancy turns to steve, terrified as well. she places a hand against her own neck, stroking at the skin tenderly. she cant imagine what youve gone through tonight, and jonathan just shakes his head.

"he did." steves voice is hard.

dustin now pretends to stab mike, who crumples to the floor. "and then she stabbed the creep!"

"y/n held her own," mike admits, impressed.

"shes my hero," steve quips, though his heart isnt entirely in it. his heart is in the next room, where it lays besides you in jonathans bed as you sleep.

lucas, who is still on the floor as he pretends to be a knocked out steve, holds a finger up. "didnt you then save her in the tunnels?"

"you took her to the tunnels?" jonathan faces steve feels an anger that was once so familiar to him now rise. after everything you went through tonight, why would steve allow you to further push yourself?

the teen sighs. he understands jonathans anger, but theres so much that he will never understand when it comes to you and steve. the debt you owe one another, the trust that is there to always have each others back, no questions asked. "we both know theres no stopping her when shes made up her mind. all i could do was make sure she was safe."

"which he did." dustin adds, sending jonathan a pointed look.

he deflates, now suddenly embarrassed for his outburst. he knows steve is right. when it comes to the ones you love, theres no stopping you. sometimes hes afraid youll die protecting everyone else.

the thought is an unpleasant one, and jonathan castes it out of his head. what matters now is that youre only a room away from him, asleep and safe and alive. you will have new scars, new bruises and wounds to heal, but youre alive, and he'll be right next to you once more. jonathan may not have been there tonight, and he might not ever be the one to protect you again, but he knows he will always be by your side as you recover and heal and move on.

hes been by your side he was he twelve and the only thing that scared you was the creaking of floorboards.

now hes seventeen and you fear much more than shadows.

youre not jonathans anymore to protect, not really, but you will always be his to watch over. he'll always be there to walk you home, and he knows youll always do the same for him. youll always remind each other of who you are, where you belong. lines and strings and all.

"so, you really saved y/n's life again?" jonathan asks steve, silently extending this admission as a peace offering.

steve shrugs once more, his face flushed. he feels the shift again, he can see the olive branch that jonathan presents him, and steve never thought he would get here. to be worthy of this, to have your safety in his hands and jonathans acceptance. "i owed her."

jonathan laughs, and steve finally understands why the boy is your closest friend. jonathan byers is a lot of things, but hes loyal above all else, and steve knows that he he understands you better than anyone else with such few words.

nancy takes mike home, steve offers to drive dustin and lucas, and slowly the house empties. as steve exits the door, he lingers for a second, before he takes a deep breath. "hey, jonathan."

he turns. "yeah?"

"go see her, she could really use you right now... she'll always need you."

jonathan smiles. "thank you."

they both know that hes thanking steve for so much more than encouraging him to go to you.

neither of them acknowledge it again. they dont need to.

[aces-personal-whore]

PossessiveDom!Doflamingo x Subordinate!Reader Smut

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter3] [Chapter 4]

Hello everyone, and welcome to my very first post here! I have a passion for smut, so please enjoy! I'm going to need to separate this into chapters; I will note the chapters with smut, but this chapter doesn't have it.

Doffy is a very guilty pleasure of mine, so I had a bit of fun with this story.

☣️WARNINGS: NSFW, MDNI, eventual smut, violence

[Chapter 1]

~~~~~~~~~~

"Fufufu~ What do we have here?" Doffy laughed deviously, staring at you, as you were tied to a chair in the empty, dark basement of his castle.

"He-hello..." you said nervously, unable to make eye contact.

"Don't be shy, my dear." He approached you slowly, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the basement. As he got closer, you could see his piercing red sunglasses that contrasted vividly with his blond hair.

"Name's Y/N, I presume? Don't worry, I won't let you rot down here. No, no. I have better use for you." Doffy chuckled, his voice clear and hoarse as it carried in the emptiness.

"You see, I have a little game in mind, one that involves you, some potions, and a good dose of the power of the devil fruits... and, well, let's just say that you could find yourself in a fairly interesting situation." He grinned, his teeth gleaming. "Think of it as an adventure. Mind you, you have to stay strong and play along if you want to make it out of here in one piece. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?" He traced a finger along your chin, making you shiver at the cold touch.

Your breath hitched at his touch "Y-yes, Master..."

"Oh, I like that. A submissive one, hmm? Very well, then. Let's get started, shall we?" Doflamingo released your chin and snapped his fingers. A tall figure appeared from the shadows. It was a man with a white and blue coat and a twisted grin. "Trebol, this is our new plaything," he said, gesturing to the gooey man. "Make sure to take her upstairs and prepare her for the experiment. We wouldn't want her to escape, now, would we?" He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Now, off you go, my dear," Doffy said, pushing you on your back to make you fall into Trebol's waiting arms. "I'll be watching you closely, so don't disappoint." He winked and turned back, leaving you in the hands of his staff officer.

"Yes, Master..." you breathed nervously, your body shaking.

"Come along, then," Trebol said in a rattling voice, his grip tight on your body. "We've got work to do, and Doffy doesn't like to wait." Trebol picked you up and carried you up the stairs, his goo encasing you.

As you ascended, Doflamingo chuckled in the background, the sound almost maniacal. "Ah, it's superb how easily she fell into place," he mused aloud. "We'll see how far she'll go in the end. Who knows, maybe she'll even enjoy it." He snapped his fingers once more, and a big vial of green liquid appeared in his hand. "That's the potion I'll use on her. A delightful blend to make her... obedient." He laughed, and the echoes of his voice followed you all the way up to the laboratory.

Your heart races, your breath shallow "Y-yes, Master..." you muster.

"You'll get used to it, don't worry," Trebol said to you.

The laboratory came into view, and you could see several vials and beakers on the table, the stench of chemicals filling the room. "Now, let's get started," he grunted as he placed you on the table, your body becoming encased in Doffy's thread.

A beaker filled with the same green liquid Doffy had was brought to your lips. "Drink up, my dear. It's for your own good," Trebol encouraged, pouring the contents down your throat.

After a few moments, as the potion took effect, you felt a wave of submission wash over you, making it harder to resist. "There we go. Much better. Now, let's see how we can use your body for Doffy's amusement." The gooey man chuckled darkly as he started preparing the next steps in Doflamingo's little game.

Your heart was still racing as you drank the mysterious liquid. It had a pleasant sweet taste to it. You eagerly gulped it down, the liquid seeping from your lips.

As the potion continued to work, you felt yourself becoming more submissive and eager to please. Trebol started by taking random samples from your body, causing you to flinch at the pricks of the needles yet finding your arousal increasing. The slimey man smirked, pleased with the outcome.

"Alright, now to add the icing on the cake," Trebol said, picking up a vial containing a viscous red liquid. "We'll mix this devil fruit juice with the concoction Doffy came up with. This should give Doffy exactly what he wants from you."

With a practiced hand, he injected it into your body, and you felt a sparkle of power stir inside of you. Trebol continued, drawing a line of symbols on your skin, each one triggering a surge of energy to course through your veins. "And we're done," he declared, admiring his work.

"Get ready, Y/N. Doffy's going to want to see his new toy in action." Doflamingo released the strings that bound you, and you found yourself standing unsteadily, eager to fulfill your new role as Doflamingo's submissive plaything.

Your eyes looked over nervously at Doflamingo, unsure of what's going to happen next what... "What kind of devil fruit did you give me...?" you whimpered out.

Doflamingo appeared in the doorway, his grin as wide as ever. "Ah, my dear, it's a unique one. A nearly-extinct type that doesn't affect your body, but rather, allows you to manipulate others. For now, you can only control those weak-willed, but don't worry, it'll grow stronger with time," Doflamingo explained, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "A perfect match for your new... entertainment career," he chuckled, his voice echoing in the lab. "Now, let's see how well you can perform, shall we?" With that, he walked into the lab, beckoning for you to follow him. "I have a little surprise waiting for you. A perfect target for your newfound abilities," he teased, eager to see the results of his twisted experiment.

"Young Master.... May I please be by your side?" you nervously asked the Heavenly Demon.

"As always, my dear," Doflamingo said, intertwining his fingers with yours, a satisfied smirk on his face. "But remember, you exist to serve me, and your powers should reflect that loyalty. The weak will be at your beck and call, while the strong will only bend for me. Now, let's see if you can learn your place." With a firm squeeze of your hand, he led you to your first test - to show how well you've adapted to your role as his submissive servant.

You took ahold of Doffy's hand. Taking a deep, shaky breath, "Is it alright if I ask you something, Young Master?" you asked

"What's on your mind, Y/N?" Doflamingo asked, glancing at you with curiosity.

"What do you want me to call you and refer to you as? Do you like Master, or is Doffy okay?" you mustered out, your voice quivering.

"Master is lovely, but Doffy works just as well," he chuckled, squeezing your hand. "Whichever makes you feel more submissive. After all, it's all about thrills and emotions, wouldn't you agree?" With a wink, he led you towards the chamber where your first "entertainment" would take place.

"Which makes you feel better for me to say? I only want the best for Master," you said, the serum working, coursing through your veins.

"Master is certainly the most... regal choice. It fits your submissive role the best," Doffy said with a wicked grin. "But remember, it's all a game. And as long as you're playing it to the best of your ability, I'll find you irresistible." He smirked and opened the door to the chamber, the first of your loyal subjects waiting for you within. The perfect pawns in Doflamingo's twisted game, ready for you to test your newfound powers.

Irresistible? The words echoed in my head. "What do you want me to do with these subjects, Master," you questioned as the two of you reached the chamber with the test subjects.

"You're going to show them who's in control. I want you to bend their wills to your desires," Doflamingo said, pushing the door open. "Take their freedom, and in return, they'll serve you and me with blind obedience. Easy, isn't it? Now, Y/N, put on a show for me. Prove that you're worthy of your new role," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "And should you falter, well, don't worry. Trebol and I will make sure to give you a refresher." With that, Doflamingo stepped aside, ready to watch as you dominated your first subjects in a display of power that he alone could unleash.

You stammered into the chamber, still holding Doffy's hand. "Yes, Master, but I... I don't know how," you nervously admitted.

Without further hesitation, Doflamingo gave a sharp nod toward Trebol, who stepped forward with a menacing grin. "Don't worry, we'll make it a lesson you won't forget," he said. He gently held your hand, guiding the symbols drawn on your skin back into motion. A surge of power flowed throughout your body as the symbols glowed with newfound energy. "Now," Trebol instructed, "Focus on the weakest one in the room. Draw a line from your body to them, and your power will flow through it."

You could feel your control seeping from your fingertips, reaching for the first subject. The line between you and the weak-willed man glowed, a physical manifestation of your influence. "Try to make him speak, Y/N," Doflamingo encouraged you, his eyes shining with anticipation.

"Y-yes Master..." You do your best to feel your energy flow through the imaginary string that connected you with the first subject. Communicating through the string, you command him to declare Doffy as the greatest emperor of Dressrosa. As your power and energy reached out to the weak-willed subject, he stiffened, and his eyes met yours. The line between you grew brighter with each passing moment.

"Master... Doffy... is... the greatest... Emperor of... all of Dressrosa..." he muttered, his voice shaky yet obedient.

"Excellent, Y/N!" Doflamingo praised you, clapping his hands together. "You're catching on quickly, it seems. Now, see if you can make him demonstrate his obedience further."

The subject's eyes wandered to the floor, his body tense and ready to take further commands. The string between you and him, a symbol of your newfound dominance, pulsated in time with your heartbeat. He bowed deeply, his forehead touching the floor. "I am yours, Master Doffy, through my mistress Y/N. I am here to serve you both with my whole being," he declared, his voice rough from the forced submission.

Doflamingo's smile grew wider, his satisfaction evident. "Bravo, Y/N," he praised you. "You're off to a great start. Now, show the others that they too will bow before us. We'll see just how far your power can stretch."

With the taste of control and the approval of your master, you felt emboldened. The thread between you and the weak-willed continued to glow, and you focused on the next subject. Slowly, you began to make them submit as well, each one falling under your influence.

Doflamingo watched with a content expression, relishing in the sight of his new toy in action. You were proving yourself capable of entertaining the strong and weak alike, your role as his submissive servant and his tool of control solidifying by the moment.

Where your newfound powers would take you, only time would tell. But one thing was certain, the chamber echoed with your newfound dominance, and beneath it, the shaky breaths of the defeated, their wills now yours to command.

As your will swept over the subjects, the air in the chamber changed, heavy with the tension of pending violence. "Hear me, the weak and the lowly," you commanded, your voice echoing within the room. "Prove your loyalty with your strength. Only the strongest among you shall join as my master's loyal subjects. The rest shall perish, offering their lives as a sacrifice to their new ruler, Lord Doflamingo."

Your hands moved, drawing forth the symbols marked upon your skin. The lines of power extended from your body, binding your subjects to your command. The symbols shimmered, bathing the room in their luminous glow as the subjects' eyes hardened with determination.

As they turned on one another, their cries and groans of battle echoed through the chamber. Doflamingo stood by, his face a mask of delighted anticipation, as you manipulated the course of the fight. This was your master's twisted game, and you had become an essential part of it.

By forcing these subjects to shed blood in pursuit of loyalty, you deepened the bonds of devotion. The victors would owe their very existence to you, while the losers offered up their lives in the name of Doflamingo's greatness. You reveled in your newfound control, serving your master with absolute devotion, a pawn in his grand, twisted chess game.

As your master watched you orchestrate the bloody battle, his gaze never faltering, Doflamingo smiled, proud of his new acquisition. "You've shown quite the dedication, Y/N" he praised, the sound of combat and grunts of effort still lingering in the air. "You're a quick study, and your zealousness is quite commendable."

He approached you, his hand stroking your exposed neck, tracing a line from your collarbone to your heart. "And with this, you've proved your submission to me. The game has only just begun, so let us continue this dance of dominance and submission." Doflamingo leaned in, whispering into your ear: "Your loyalty has already earned you my favor, Y/N, and you'll find that in my world, that's enough to guarantee you a place at my side for as long as you promise to serve."

Doffy's touch sent a tinge of arousal down your spine, gently gnawing at my mind. Feeling his breath hot on your neck and ear, goosebumps ran across your skin. "Thank you, Master," you breathed. Arousal stirred between your legs.

With those words of encouragement, he turned, heading back towards the exit. The future was a twisted, promising path for you, a journey that began in a dark basement and had no bounds to its potential. As your master's devout servant, your role had been cast, and the time had come for you to step fully into it.

The world of One Piece now had a powerful new player, a submissive subject to Doflamingo, ready to bend the wills of whomever crossed your path in the name of the most enigmatic villain in the series.

Doflamingo easily read the desire that flickered in your eyes. He kept you firmly in his gaze, his voice hushed. "Let us see who emerges from this brutal contest you've enacted. It'll be a fine testament to your influence, one I can't wait to witness."

As the battle waned, leaving behind a winner and a trail of the defeated, Doflamingo's attention returned to you. His hand trailed down your arm, sending shivers through your body at his touch. "I believe you've earned a reward, for your enthusiastic efforts today," he said, his voice dripping with promise.

With his other hand, he gently turned your face to his, your eyes growing wide in anticipation. Doflamingo leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a chaste kiss. "Y/N, as your master, I claim you," he whispered as he pulled back.

"Of course, Master. Anything for you," you told Doffy, your breath heavy.

An innocent first kiss, but it marked the beginning of your submission to him on a more intimate level. The bond between you and Doflamingo had already shifted, this time forever sealing your allegiance to him in every sense of the word. Your journey had crossed a new threshold as your master's servant, and with Doflamingo's claim now etched in your existence, you eagerly looked forward to what lay in store. This was the path you'd chosen, and in Doflamingo's arms, you were poised to become a formidable force in this twisted world you two will soon create.

"That's the mindset I love to hear from you, my dear," Doflamingo replied with a gentle smile. "Now, let us celebrate our new union in the proper way. Trebol, arrange a feast for us, one befitting our newfound triumphs."

As his slimey assistant moved to carry out the order, Doflamingo guided you out of the basement and back into the heart of his stronghold. The world raced by as he led you through the opulent halls. A mischievous glint in his eye, he leaned in, nuzzling your hair. "Tonight, we'll toast to our successful partnership, Y/N, and chart the course for our future exploits."

The grand feast awaited in an ornate chamber, the scents of exotic dishes wafting through the air. Doflamingo's hand found its way to the small of your back as he seated you beside him.

The darkness of your kidnapping was now a distant memory, replaced by the vivid reality of your new life. As you sat before Doflamingo, a wicked grin spreading across his lips, the first course was served, signaling the start of an unforgettable night. The chef, one of Doflamingo's unyielding subjects, had used exotic ingredients, cooked with the passion that fueled your master's empire.

As the night unfolded, the bond between you and Doflamingo deepened. Wine flowed freely, the candles flickered, and the air hummed with the secrets of a dark empire. You, the newest pawn on its chessboard, had begun your journey, a commitment to servitude that promised a twisted, wondrous adventure.

~~~~~~~~

Your body draped over Doflamingo, your obedience never wavering. Your only desire being to serve under the Young Master, the serum taking full effect.

As your body lay comfortably against Doflamingo's, the night's festivities had long since faded. The room was dimly lit, the flicker of a dying fire the only illumination in the large bedroom.

Doflamingo, content with your willing submission, trailed his fingers through your hair, his grip firm and possessive. "Rest easy, Y/N," he murmured softly, his voice a lullaby. "You've earned your reprieve from the struggles of the day, and in my care, you'll find solace." He cupped your face in his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Trust in me, and together, we'll shape this world to our whims, breaking the wills of the weak and bending them to our will. As we sleep, the stars above can only dream of the schemes that brew within our minds."

Drifting off to sleep, you snuggled closer to Doflamingo, your dreams filled with the promise of a future forged under your Master's guidance. The journey ahead had only just begun, and with the enigmatic Doflamingo as your anchor, you looked forward to the twisted turns and unforeseen revelations that the world would unveil. Your loyalty was unwavering, your devotion absolute, and the intricate dance of dominance and submission with your master had only just begun.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Thank you everybody for reading! Please let me know your thoughts and if you'd like to continue reading to the next chapter 💝

[angstymdzsthoughts]

(Tw for assault) pre canon, pre kids (or at least pre-jc and wwx being born) YZY gets attacked by WRH at a party. He drugged her and caught her off guard. Afterwards she tries to summon all her usual rage but he just sneers at her and says if she tried to do anything to him in retaliation, the Wens will come down on Meishan Yu AND Yunmeng Jiang. And she can't exactly say what he did to her, can she? She'll be shamed. It's her word against his and people would happily believe her cheating on JFM in a fit of drunken rage, and there would be no case anyway because she didn't fight him off - the famed violet spider not putting up a fight, her golden core not taking care of the drug? How weak. She must have wanted it...

Afterwards she returns home with JFM and tries to put it behind her. She's Yu Ziyuan and won't crumble because of this. But. It's hard. She doesn't feel safe anymore even with her handmaidens. Even in her home. She tries to act as she did before but she feels like she's falling apart - how can she whip the disciples into shape, lead Lotus Pier, when she can't even fight off a simple drug, a simple man, even if it was Wen Ruohan? Before she would express all her emotions through rage but now... she can't summon any of it. She has nightmares. She feels his hands on her, undressing her, tugging her hair, even slipping zidian off her finger and leaving her defenseless... she's falling apart and she's terrified everyone can see it.

the truth is everyone is fooled.... except for JFM who, somehow, notices cracks in her armor and wants to know what happened to his wife.

"Don't touch me!"

It's not the first time his wife had said it to him. She has snapped and hissed and growled the words too many times to count. Had once screamed them in his face when he touched her hand after Cangse and Changze visited.

But she had never been afraid.

Fengmian had honestly thought she simply wasn't capable of it. He had always admired the strength his wife carried, even when it was turned against him. He couldn't recall her ever being anything but fierce and proud and standing tall.

He felt rattled seeing her like this. Small and trembling and flinching away from him in fear.

"Please," she begged, her eyes weren't focused on anything. "Don't touch me."

Fengmian felt his own hand shake. He had reached out to fix the crooked hair pin- a perfect excuse to touch her hair- when she flinched like he had tried to strike her.

"I... Whatever my wife wishes," he assured her. "I would never- You know I would never..."

His words seemed to ground her enough to start gaining control of herself again.

"My lady, did something happen?"

The glare she gives him is venomous.

The tongue lashing she gives is short and harsh and she retreats to her rooms immediately after.

Fengmian is left with a cold, heavy feeling in his stomach.

-

YZY would be so, so worried about JFM finding out. She thinks he won't hesitate to take the opportunity to divorce her and ruin her reputation.

[milliemuus]

Day TWO of toxicchaintober is rolling around, and the prompt was chains!

This is kind've sad, but necessary. Evil villain plot stuff, yk? Maybe don't get so greedy, Kieran smh

Speaking of villain origin story, why don't I write y'all a little excerpt?

READ BELOW THE CUT (!!!!MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING FOR ASPHYXIATION!!!!)

It was a very dark night.

Kieran hurriedly raced away from home, having snuck out of the house without getting caught. His adrenaline, mixed with both fear and anticipation, rushed through his veins with each trot as he made his way to the bridge that seperated town from the wilderness. He knew he really shouldn't be out here this late, but given the circumstances, he didn't care.

It was about time he grew up, anyway.

As he reached the path that led to Kitakami Hall he took a turn, headed down the slope and toward the river.

"I just have to remember how to get to the woods, and then out of sight for a little while." He panted, coming to a stop before approaching the bubbling stream before him. He looked down at the water for a moment, taking in his reflection.

"I look...I look so tired..." he whispered, still drawing in deep breaths. He brought a hand up to his cheek.

"What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?" He asked himself, feeling the small, familiar flicker of irritation as he began to recall the events since coming back home.

"You make your first friend, want to prove to her you're not some loser wimp and then your stupid sister comes in and swoops her away! And now she won't even talk to you, much less look at you!" He growled, his panting becoming slower. Even still, his heart pounded in a mix of bubbling frustration and fatigue.

"You can't even make friends right, much less DESERVE ANY!" His voice rose, echoing through the still air as he swiped the water with his hand, as if to eradicate the insecure reflection before him. This caused some neaeby ducklett to quack from being startled.

"I hate you! I hate this stupid town, and I hate my sister. It's all your fault!" He rambled on.

"If you weren't SO WEAK—" He grit his teeth, near forgetting why he was here before he felt a rattling in his pouch, nearly causing him to fall over in surprise.

"Ghh-?!"

His fanny pack rattled again. Oh...right. He shouldn't be here wasting his time. The thing rattling in his backpack had reminded him of wby he was headed to his destination in the first place.

He sighed, taking a deep breath.

"If I stay any longer, someone'll be bound to find me. I gotta get going." With that, he set off once again, this time he was going to make sure he didn't lose breath.

...

After what felt like forever, he recognized the thick greenery of the forest. Many had warned him of the dangers, but he didn't care. He stopped, clenching his fist.

"I have to go in." He swallowed "I have to prove my worth. Maybe then she'll like me then." He then began scaling the steeper hill of the forest, making sure he didn't tumble on the way down.

As he landed at the bottom, he whispered "I wonder how she does this...I'm already done outta breath..."

He sounded disappointed in himself, shaking his head.

"No, Kieran. Steel yourself. Part of the training is tolerance!" He growled softly, pushing deep into the dark woodland of Timeless Woods.

Thankfully he was wearing his jacket—so many swaths of bramble had poked out, scraping his legs. As annoying as it was, he would just stomp them to the ground with a flare of annoyance.

"No doubt meemaw is going to question how I got these in my sleep," he thought to himself.

"Maybe I can just say my Sentret did it out of excitement....seems believeable."

Convincing himself, he pushed forward, a branch near hooking his headband. He growled at this, struggling for a moment before it let go.

"Geez...!" He adjusted his headband.

"To be honest, is this even worth coming so far?" He began asking himself, now wandering aimlessly. "That voice said it would be...so I guess it wouldn't hurt. Still..." As he was about to speak, a loud shriek echoed in the distance, the hair on the bsck of his neck standing up.

"A-Aw man....I oughta make this quick, then-"

Without further hesitation, he knew he had no choice but to go forward. He whimpered slightly, throat burning in fear as he picked up the pace.

"Did we really have to meet out here...?!" He panted again, already losing the air pocketed in his tiny lungs. The terrain here was unstable; what if he fell? What if a scary pokémon caught up to him-?!

The panic rose in his chest. He felt more hypervigilant, the rattling in his pouch only startling him further.

"W-Wait...!" He puffed "We're almost there—"

He could faintly make out an area in the distance, his focus locking onto it. The pouch rattled again, this time with more ferocity.

"C-Can't you just wait?! I'm trying, here!" He wailed, his hands travelling to his fanny pack. Whatever it was, it was ready to come out compared to when he was near Mossui.

He began unzipping it, eyes still locled onto the clearing ahead.

Zzziiiiip-!

"Okay, I'll give you some ai— Wuuaahh—!" Suddenly the weight under his feet was gone, his body feeling as if it was soaring. A choked cry escaped his throat before it was automatically stifled by his front-half landing on the ground.

"Oomph—! Oowww..."

Kieran whimpered. He slowly sat up onto his knees, trying to rub his eyes.

"Mmghhh...uh?" He stopped, his vision refocusing. That's when he noticed something small and a pinkish-purple laying in the grass in front of him, moonlight reflecting off of it.

He began grabbing at his pouch, realizing that it was now empty as well.

"What-?! How did-?!" He scooched up further, about to grab it and stuff it back in the bag before his eyes landed on two, yellow orbs that stared right back at him.

"WH-WHAT THE--?!" He took his hand away. The item-now-turned-creature hissed.

"Silence, child!"

It rattled, this time the weird, soft shell began to undulate.

The air felt like it was sucked out of Kieran's throat. What the hell was going on...? Had he hit his head too hard somehow? Maybe ate too many sweets the day prior?! He had to slap himself for a moment, as if he was dreaming.

"Ugh....this is just a dream...it has to be a dream..."

The creature rolled its eyes for a moment before Kieran felt something—something that physically wasn't there—grab his face. This grabbed his attention, his whole body tensing up as he sensed danger.

"You call yourself a "trainer", yet you can't tell when a pokémon is right in front of you or not. How pathetic..."

With it's soft outer shell, the creature hoisted itself up. It was shaky, much like the spherical-shaped robots breaking down like in sci-fi movies Kieran had seen. He watched in horror as the peach-shaped pokémon lifted itself in the air.

For him, this was like witnessing the birth of Arceus, or the existence of life itself. Did Millie know what this thing was?

As he sat there, dumbfounded, the tight, invisible feeling left his face. He reached to rub his chin instinctively, looking at the creature that was slowly regaining its strength.

"You...you can speak?" He asked shakily.

"Yes...I suppose I am able to now..."

"Now?"

"It does not matter. What matters right now is that I have brought you out here for a multitude of reasons..." The creature's yellow-eyes squinted at the child. Kieran sat there, watching its every move as it began floating around him, as if to observe him. It stopped above his head, leaning in a little closer.

"Wh-What are you doing...?" Kieran asked, confused.

The peach-shaped creature's horns seemed to move back for a moment before it floated away from Kieran, looking down at him.

"Studying you...you'll see." The creature finally answered. Kieran tilted his head.

"Studying me? Why?"

The creature floated up to his face, glaring at him.

"It is simple, foolish child. I need your help." The creature insulted Kieran, which he slightly looked away in agitation.

"We both are in a predicament, and I think we could benefit from one another, no?"

This caught Kieran's attention. His eyes flickered for a moment.

"Y-Yeah!" He barked, before his face contorted in confusion.

"Wait...how did you know I was going through somethin' right now?" Kieran, now struck with realization, stared down the anomaly in front of him. The creature gently shook from side-to-side.

"Peh-heh-heh...you really are so stupid...I really did hit the jackpot with you..."

Kieran's fists balled up as he sat there, becoming impatient.

"Enough with the insults! Just...answer my question." Kieran's voice was more demanding, it taking all of him to not just grab at the creature and scream at it. The critter made a weird groaning sound, rolling its eyes again.

"I don't know how it couldn't be anymore obvious...but I've kinda been alive the whole time..." It revealed, "To put it simply: the first time you touched me, I suppose it activated something within me to wake up. Then I had to play the waiting game...make sure you're worth my time-"

"Worth your time...?" Kieran squinted, perplexed.

"You're so hopeless. Anywhoooo...." The creature tilted to the side.

"You said you wanted to get stronger, right? I kinda overheard when you rudely stuffed me into your little smoking-case there—"

"H-Hey, woah-!" Kieran put his hands in front of him "First off, this isn't a smoking-case, it's a pouch! Aren't those like really old, anyway?" He scratched his head "Also, I suppose yer not wrong. Sorry for doing that, by the way-" He looked down, blushing slightly from embarrassment. The creature looked down on him.

"Coulda swore that was something else. Anyway, to repeat what I said—"

"Yeah! I do wanna get stronger!" Kieran, impatient with excitement, grabbed his own knees in anticipation.

"...Okay, kid. Slow down."

"Sorry!"

"Oookay...anyway...I need your help. If you wanna get stronger, then I have two favors from you. I really think these things could help you get stronger..."

Kieran leaned forward, now in a semi-bowing-position.

"Please! I'll do anything!" He cried, his head bowing to the ground. The creature wanted to giggle at his patheticness to work for him.

"Wow...that didn't really take any convincing and I didn't even get to tell you the conditions yet. Consider this...a sub-challenge..." For a moment, it felt pity for the kid. How desperate would a kid his age have to be? It almost seemed unfair-

When was it ever fair, anyway?

Kieran sat up again, nodding. The peach began to float to-and-fro.

"Firstly: You really need to prove your strength by helping me re-unite my buddies and I together. What better way to prove your strength than through friendship?" It began to explain, nearly cringing at the last few bits. Before it could continue, Kieran piped up again.

"Who are your buddies?" He asked. It would only be natural for him to ask just so he knew what to do.

"Err...they are very...anonymous folk. They prefer to keep their identity hidden."

Before Kieran could say anything else, it continued,

"Secondly, I need a few, specific masks retrieved."

Kieran's eyes widened, and he piped up again once more.

"Like...like The Loyal Three's?"

The creature looked at him in surprise. The Loyal Three?! If it wasn't so upset at them for failing their job previously, it would have been pleased with the title.

"Look, save your questions for later. Once I see 'em, I'll let you know, okay? For now, I'm just trying to work this dea—trade—out with you."

His voice sounded stern for a moment. If things went his way successfully, he wouldn't have to explain his reasons. It's not like he was going to remember anyway-

Kieran looked embarrassed once again, nodding in understand.

"Okay-"

"Thank you." The creature sighed before floating up into his face.

"If you can do those two things for me, then I can grant you the power you seek. Do those conditions sound good to you?" It asked. Finally finished with it's propisition, it now waited desperately, looking into Kieran's cat-like eyes.

Kieran was quiet for a few moments, which was completely agonizing for this mystery pokémon. If it had hands, it would have its fingers tied behind its back.

'Just take the bait, kid. Come on!' It thought, tensing a little.

Kieran tapped his finger against his chin before he finally spoke.

"So, if I find your friends and retrieve these mystery masks, I can catch you and join my party?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"Indeed— Wait...catch me?"

"With a pokéball!" Kieran beamed, looking up at it with moon-round eyes. Never had the pokémon been so confused and offended before. What the hell was a pokéball?! It made a weird "peh" noise before shaking itself again.

"Y'know what? Yeah, we'll work that out when we get to it..." It grumbled. Might as well save itself another headache before it wastes the little energy it has...

Kieran had never been so overjoyed before. He was finally going to be able to achieve his dreams of becoming the strongest trainer in the world, and finally have an attempt at impressing Millie! His heart began to pound and, before he could stop himself, he blurted out the fastest "Yes" his body could conjure.

For a moment, the creature was too stunned to speak. This was easier than it thought it'd be. Was this kid really that gullible? Did he never get the lectures most kids got when he was younger? The creature blinked, before the answer finally hit it. It finally got what it wanted.

"Yes?" It asked "Are you absolutely sure?" It wanted to clarify that it had not heard things, making sure that Kieran could undoubtedpy be bound to it.

"Yes! If you can give me strength, then I will do these things for you! Kieran repeated, bowing again.

Wow. This kid WAS serious.

"Pehra, Pehra..." It made a noise akin to a pokémon, sighing. It was excited, but it also pitied the kid to a degree.

"Okay, kid! You got yourself a deal!" It cheered, it taking everything not to squirm too much so its shell didn't open up too much.

"Sit up and hold out your hand!"

At its command, Kieran sat up for a moment, confused. He just shrugged, thinking ut was just the simple gesture the mystery pokémon had picked up from others when it came to sealing deals.

"Okay!" And with that, he held his hand out, eyes closed in a smile.

The creature could hardly believe it; it was going to be able to take Kieran's vessel (and smoothly, at that)! It made a little chirp, the chirp becoming a few quiet giggles as Kieran felt something invisible wrap around his wrist.

The pokémon's eyes remained closed, the noise getting happier as the invisible force began to tighten agonizingly around Kieran's wrist.

"Ow ow, hey-" Kieran opened his eyes "I know you're excited, but—" Before he knew it, the pokémon began glowing a faint purple around itself, now looking back at him with dark intent.

"You really are so STUPID....!" It snarled. Kieran's eyes could do nothing but hopelessly watch as the invisible pressure he felt began to glow purple, materializing into a faint, circular object that seemed to stretch from the sides of the pokémon.

It was at this moment his heart dropped, the atmosphere around him turning into one of despair.

There was no doubt about it; he had been duped, used yet again by another creature that saw him as nothing but weak. He could feel his heart quicken in terror, his immediate instinct to pull away.

"S-Stop it!" He cried, trying to pry his arm away from the sinister creature that had a death-grip on it.

"Let go of meee...!" He grit his teeth, his arm screaming in pain as he pulled as hard as he could. The pokémon drew closer, laughing darkly at the kid.

"I feel bad, kid. I do," It faked the pity; in reality, it had played its cards right, and Kieran had fell for its plea

"But you did agree to this trade! Fair's fair!"

Kieran growled in panic, his eyes welling up with tears.

"I NEVER AGREED TO— MMMPHHH—" Before Kieran could scream at it, he the weird texture of the unidentifiable object the creature was using dart into his mouth, as if to stifle him.

"Whazzat?" It asked "Did a totodile bite your tongue?"

Kieran glared at the pokémon, the familiar ache in his chest swelling. He couldn't make any noise as the chain-like miasma pinched his tongue. He did squeal, his throat burning as the prongs pinched harder.

As Kieran began to struggle, the chain that was snaking up his arm suddenly lunged, now wrapping around his throat. He began to panic, realizing exactly what it was trying to do. His eyes welled up with tears as the creature floated behind him, chuckling.

"That's a good kiddo. If I didn't have my toxic chain in your mouth, I'd totally give you some mochi as a reward!" It chimed. Kieran growled, struggling some more. Not only was this pokémon actively going to kill him, but it was offering one of Kieran's least favorite foods.

The despair ate at Kieran. He had followed a disembodied forest out into Timeless Woods, accepting some sort of stupid offer. He was disappointed; it was as if life was just out for him.

'This is my fate..." Kieran thought, the chains getting tighter. He could feel his throat slowly close.

'Maybe this is what I deserve. Maybe sis was right about me being a stupid child that doesn't know any better...' As he began to pity himself, the chains fully closed around his neck, closing his windpipe. The tears slowly stopped, him unable to heave any air.

'I'm going to die. I'm going to die in the middle of the woods.' Kieran looked up at the sky, trying to gasp for air as the creature's other chain used it's prongs to stretch his mouth open.

'I'm going to die alone, and nobody will be here to save me.'

Suddenly, Kieran began to miss everything. His house, his school, his family, his friends....

...Even Millie. Why was it that, even at the face of death, she was the one that crossed his mind? The despair gnawed at him, and he was helplessly a victim to it.

He began to panic, clawing at the chains that held onto him, sucking the oxygen out of him. This only caused the creature to wiggle the chains, laughing.

'...I really need sis right now...' He finally felt a heavy weight upon him. It was as if Carmine was tucking him into bed, telling him things would get better.

"Looks like we've got a fighter! I hate to tell you this, but the more you struggle, the worse it'll get!"

It was taking excitement in Kieran's suffering. He could feel his vision tunneling, white, fuzzy spots dotting it. His struggling became less amd less, the movements becoming mere twitches.

'I feel so cold...' Kieran thought.

'If only sis were here...I need her...I need...sis...'

And that's when the weighted feeling took over, as if a blanket had fallen over him, one that Carmine was holding, telling him that things would get better and that tomorrow they would make things better.

Just like she used to. Right before he felt like he didn't need her love or comfort anymore.

Before he knew it, he had slipped into the comforting void of darkness.

.

.

.

.

.

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[left-side-up]

hermittober day 4: woods

It's cold, and for once, it's not because Pearl is sitting perfectly still in a pile of powdered snow. No, it's a different kind of cold right now. She's somewhere in the depths of the woods, trying to find her way back to her tower whilst fending off an army of skeletons and keeping track of Tilly, who seems rather prone to wandering today. It's not snowing, but Pearl lost her hoodie somewhere on the way here, and the wind is biting at her bare skin.

"Tilly darling, stay with me," she calls as she shields herself from a few more arrows. She's already been hit a few times. It's getting a bit hard to keep going, but she has no allies here. She has no choice but to keep going.

(She could call any of her friends, she knows that. These games are just for fun. If anyone knew she was truly lonely, they'd come to her aid right away. But Scott and Cleo and Ren's biting words had felt a bit too real, and she doesn't feel like sorting that out right now.)

Tilly runs a few feet ahead of her, stopping every once in a while to look back. Pearl smiles. At least she has someone looking out for her.

She keeps on running. The pines are starting to grow a little sparser. She hadn't wanted to leave the forest, but she supposes if she finds an open area she can build a quick dirt shack to hide in until daybreak. She just has to go a little further.

The arrow in her shoulder screams at her in protest as she raises her shield again. The gash in her leg aches with every step. Her eyesight blurs, though whether it's from adrenaline or blood loss, she can't tell.

"Tilly?" she shouts. The dog is no longer in sight, and she doesn't come back after Pearl calls again. Panic rises in her chest.

"Tilly!"

Her breaths grow shorter. She can see torchlight on the horizon, she's almost there, where's Tilly-

Her panic clouds her judgement. Something catches her foot- a tree root she could've easily avoided- and she's left vulnerable on the ground.

The monsters that were chasing her grow closer, and she closes her eyes. Scott's gonna be upset if she loses another life, but Pearl is too tired to care anymore. Everyone has been avoiding her like a red name already. She'll deal with the real thing when she wakes up.

Everything fades away, bit by bit. The sound of rattling bones, the feelings of pain and cold and loneliness, until...

Until a wet nose nudges her cheek.

Pearl grunts and opens her eyes a crack. Tilly is there, whining with concern.

"Hey baby," she says, though it comes out raspy. Her senses slowly return. Where there was once the sound of bowstrings, there are now two panicked voices clambering on top of each other. Her wounds hurt a lot more than they did earlier. The forest is illuminated now, though from where she's lying she can't see the source of the light.

Pearl tries to push herself up, but she ends up falling back down in a matter of seconds. The voices stop, and suddenly someone is there, picking her up, supporting her.

"Don't try to walk, yeah? You've got some nasty wounds."

Bright yellow wings encircle her as she's pulled into her little brother's lap. As soon as she hears his voice, she relaxes. His eyes are red, both from his life status and from tears.

"What's wrong?" she asks, reaching up to dry his cheeks. He looks dumbfounded for a moment, before shaking his head and pulling her into a hug.

"Your dog led us into the forest in the middle of the night, where we found you freezing, half dead, and surrounded by mobs. Pearl, so much is wrong."

"Jim, let's get her back to the ranch," the second voice says softly. Tango seems to be the source of the light, his hair aflame the way it usually is when he's feeling strong emotions. He still has a sword in his hands. Pearl would shy away if Tango hadn't been soulbound to Jimmy.

"I'll be okay," she starts, but Jimmy stops her.

"No. You're coming to the ranch with us. We're gonna patch you up, get you some food, and then you are getting in the nest because I'm not losing sight of you for at least the next twenty-four hours."

Pearl knows she could get out of this. If she was adamant enough, Jimmy would let her go. But her little brother is already scared, and Tango doesn't seem happy either, so she decides she can humor them for a while. Plus, she may very well die if she tries going home on her own, which would upset Jimmy even more.

"Alright. Just don't tell Grian," she sighs. Jimmy chuckles.

"He won't be hearing anything from me. It's Scott you have to worry about."

As carefully as he can, Jimmy stands up with Pearl secured in his arms. Tango comes to his side, sword and shield in hand. Tilly stands on Jimmy's other side, ears perked up. It feels... oddly safe.

"Scott had better not tell on me," she scoffs.

They head back to the ranch without another incident. Jimmy tends to her wounds as Tango fixes all of them something quick to eat, Tilly remaining at her side the entire time. At some point, when Jimmy's gone to change his clothes and grab something from the bedroom, Tango pauses what he's doing to come and give her a hug.

"What's all this for?" she says weakly. This wouldn't be out of place on Hermitcraft, but here? This is a death game, and they're not necessarily allies.

"You're my friend, Pearl. No matter where we are. And that was scary."

He holds on for another moment, before pulling away with glassy eyes.

"You can always come here, okay? No matter what. I don't want you to be alone like that ever again."

Before she can formulate a response, he goes back to cooking.

That night, she falls asleep feeling safer than she has the entire time she's been in this world. There's a place for her now, even if it's small and smells like cows. She goes back to her tower the next day feeling much less lonely.

Pearl knows it's just a game. It's not meant to hurt. No one will die forever. But something inside her breaks a little when the ranch is burned down at the funeral of Jimmy and Tango, and she's left alone in the woods again.