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juustokaku · 2 months ago

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Confidentiality - Chapter 5. - yandere!ATEEZ OT8 x f!reader

Introduction: Joining a peer support group for mentally ill was a good idea for the last two times you were there. Then it's only natural for the third time to go well too, right?

Pairings: yandere!Hongjoong x reader, yandere!Seonghwa x reader, yandere!Yunho x reader, yandere!Yeosang x reader, yandere!San x reader, yandere!Mingi x reader, yandere!Wooyoung x reader, yandere!Jongho x reader

T/W: This story will include talk about mental health struggles such as body dysmorphia, paranoid thoughts and more. Possessive and obsessive behavior, stalking. Dark themes are to be expected.

A/N: Forgive me; this chapter is absolute shit! Publishing this makes me feel very ashamed and disappointed in myself. I hate this so much, but it's probably the best what I can do right now. I hope I didn't let you down and hope you won't lose your interest for this story because of this chapter. Also, this chapter has only Mingi (finally), Jongho, and the stalker, whoever that might be. I swear the story won't be about Jongho all the time although he's been in a lot of chapters, since he is important at the beginning. I hope I'm not wasting your time with this, and that at least someone will find this enjoyable :,) Thank you for reading!

Word count: 4 641

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“Is this really necessary?”

“Just take my hand. How do you think the stalker is going to notice we’re in a relationship otherwise?”

At Jongho’s question, you began to ponder. The stalker would notice anyway that there was something supposedly between you and Jongho, so why did you have to hold hands with him?

Nonetheless, you grabbed Jongho’s warm hand, intertwining your fingers together. It was supposed to look romantic and make everyone think you were two lovebirds flying on cloud 9, but it looked most likely awkward. That’d work too, you supposed. After all, the first stages of relationships sometimes felt embarrassing.

“Fake relationship, remember.”

Jongho scoffed, “Do you think I’d be in a real relationship with you?”

That hurt. You had been rejected before by romantic and platonic interests, but none of them had talked to you like you were a repulsive, filthy animal looming in the sewers.

“No...”

He just glanced at you as you gave your dejected reply. It was clearly not in his interest to make you feel loved, but it was probably better for him to be brutally honest, than fool you into thinking the act of being a couple wasn’t just pretending.

“I hope the performance won’t be a waste of our time,” Jongho murmured.

It had been his idea to go together to a Valentine’s Day event the city had arranged. What could be more romantic than holding hands and watching awful music performances by unknown wannabe artists while freezing to death?

The stage in front of you was decorated with red paper hearts and white balloons in a bad taste, being a shameful insult to art. Maybe it was supposed to get people on festive mood yet it only gave everyone who looked at it a headache. You were already feeling anxious to have so many people around you in the audience, but you had to endure it; Jongho had demanded you to stay with him for your own safety. The moment you’d leave his sight, the stalker could strike.

Just then, you saw a familiar person step on the stage with overflowing confidence.

“Is that... Mingi?” you murmured in shock, more to yourself than Jongho.

The man holding your hand couldn’t answer to you. Jongho was usually so calm and collected, so it amused you greatly to see him, lips parted and eyes wide, trying to make sense out of the sight in front of him.

“Mingus Dingus in the house! Fix on!”

A couple people from the crowd cheered at his arrival. The rest of the audience, at least 70 people, were whispering to each other and wondering who Mingi was.

“Apparently, this poor excuse of a city doesn’t have enough money to use on events anymore.”

“Yeah. I have no idea who this is. Possibly some homeless man, that they found from the streets and promised to give dinner money to if he performed.”

You heard a couple men next to you talk poorly about Mingi, which made your heart ache. Mingi didn’t seem like a bad person, completely opposite actually. He was passionate about his music and had both courage and energy to keep doing what he loved. That was admirable.

Tensing up as the music started playing, you squeezed Jongho’s hand tighter without even noticing. This performance would turn out to be a catastrophe, a total fiasco, and a hit on your already fragile mental health. You couldn’t handle seeing people fail, it just made you want to bury yourself so you would never have to see something like that again.

But as Mingi opened his mouth and his self-written lyrics started flowing out, you found yourself flabbergasted. Even impressed.

“Sent it off in the wind, every photo, every piece of my heart...”

Jongho seemed to listen to Mingi’s performance as well with perked up ears.

“It was tough for me to see a single letter, so I sent it all away...”

Mingi’s voice made you feel all kinds of things. It was impossible to pinpoint the exact names for them, but the emotions in his voice and the lyrics hit you deep in the heart. It was something unexplainable.

You watched the performance and the way Mingi’s eyes shined with flames of passion that could not be put out. It was something that nobody could fake; only people who truly loved what they were doing would be able to captivate like that. It was so vulnerable, like he was opening up to everyone who listened.

Unfortunately, a lot of people didn’t bother to listen. They were leaving little by little, and by the end of the song, only about 30 people were still listening to what Mingi wanted to express through his music.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s leave.”

Before you could control your reactions, you answered Jongho firmly, “No. I want to listen.”

You would have never dared to speak like that to anyone, let alone to Jongho, but Mingi’s song had woken up both your emotions and loyalty to him as his new fan.

It went unnoticed by you how Jongho’s expression darkened at your refusal. His grip tightened on your hand but all you cared about in that moment was Mingi.

As the performance continued, the rest of the audience left as well. It even made you angry. Of course, people had the right to leave if a performance didn’t interest them, but how could they be so deaf to the art Mingi had created?

It was the most freezing day of February, but you couldn’t care less about your shivering body or the cold wind that almost pushed you down. It was like even the wind didn’t care about Mingi’s songs and wanted to push you away from the stage. The way his performance set the stage on fire warmed your body and soul in the cold.

At last, the performance ended. Mingi had given his whole soul to it, to reach people’s ears and hearts, but you were the only one whose heart he had successfully won over.

Only two people, you and Jongho, had stayed the whole time. As the last chords of the song played, you stared at Mingi in awe, head empty and heart full. He looked at the audience he had left, and despite the lack of people, bowed deep and respectfully. He was thankful that he hadn’t been left completely alone, to perform for the emptiness.

“Fix off.”

Jongho tried to hold onto your hand tightly, but you ripped it away from his grip to applaud Mingi. Your lonely yet sincere claps reached Mingi’s ears, and he casted a smile for you. Then he left the stage.

“Y/N, don’t-”

You didn’t care about Jongho’s demand. Only thing you needed to do now was to run to Mingi and tell him how much his performance meant for you. How amazing he was. How he had managed to touch your heart. Unlike usually, you weren’t interested in the possibility of embarrassing yourself.

Your hurried steps reached Mingi fast, although the headwind was slightly slowing you down. He was facing another direction, head turned downwards.

“Mingi! Your performance was amazing! I never could have guessed you were that talented,” you spoke, sounding a bit too excited.

Hopefully Mingi wouldn’t think of you as some deranged fan.

But you hadn’t expected to see tears on his face as he turned around to look into your eyes.

“Don’t lie to me. I know no-one liked it.”

Speechless, you looked at Mingi’s heartbreaking expression. Warm tears were glistening in his eyes and streaming down his face. Lips pressed in a tight line, he looked somehow offended at your comment, trying to hold onto his dignity.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, coming here. I have no talent.”

You frowned at Mingi’s words, “Do you think I would have stayed here and rushed to compliment you, if I hadn’t liked your performance?”

Jongho had walked up to you silently and was standing next to you, hands in the pockets of his jacket. The look on his face directed at you was even colder than the air, as he listened you praise Mingi.

“I would have left with the other people if your performance hadn’t been good.”

At your words, even more tears welled up in Mingi’s eyes. He looked away from you, probably feeling embarrassed to show such vulnerability in front of you and Jongho.

“I just want you to know that your lyrics, songs and voice impressed me. They made me feel... things,” you rambled on before starting to realize you were way too passionate.

A hopeful expression crossed Mingi’s face, before disappearing like he was afraid to get his hopes up and heart broken, “What kind of things?”

You were getting shy under Mingi and Jongho’s eyes. It was too late to act coy now; you had already revealed your overwhelming emotions Mingi’s songs had managed to bring up to the surface.

On top of everything, you could relate to him. He worked so hard to be seen and appreciated, but got only ridiculing snorts and ignorance as a response. Some people were born to be insignificant in others’ eyes while the rest were born lucky to be acknowledged. To be seen wasn’t something to take for granted.

“I could relate to your songs. The emotions you showed in your performance uncovered something in me that I have tried to forget.”

It was almost a magical moment to see Mingi’s eyes sparkle. Could have been the tears that made it look like his eyes shined, but there was more to it. All of his dreams had been accomplished when he heard that his songs finally managed to reach someone’s ears. That he had been seen at last.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I will never forget what you said!” Mingi suddenly grabbed both of your hands in his, holding tightly to them like you were his salvation.

“That’s enough,” Jongho ripped your hands forcefully out of the taller man’s grip.

Sure, Jongho had to act like you were a couple, but was it really fair to treat Mingi like that? You had already lost your confidence that had emerged from nowhere before, so you had no courage to say anything. You had to remember, Jongho was still a man and much stronger than you; it would be hard to fight back if he decided he had had enough of your attitude.

“I can hold her hands if I want to. What are you, her boyfriend?”

“In fact, I am. So, keep your hands to yourself,” Jongho warned Mingi.

Mingi looked suddenly devastated, which surprised you. His mouth was agape, trying to say something. He didn’t manage to let anything past his lips other than his silent breathing. He was left behind as Jongho led you away.

Later on, you arrived at a park. To your luck, the park still had people wandering around although the sky was already turning dark. Although Jongho had promised to protect you, you didn’t want to be left alone with any man after the sun had set. String lights set to hang from the leafless trees lit up your way as you walked hand in hand with him.

“Look at that! An ice rink!” you gasped, pointing at an ice rink in the park, not being able to hide your excitement. You hadn’t been ice skating since forever.

Jongho gave you a judging side-eye, “Too expensive. Let’s go drink hot chocolate.”

You had no courage to fight back his idea, so you let him lead you to a stall selling all kinds of drinks and treats. To be honest, you felt like this was actually romantic and fit the Valentine’s Day although you were spending it with a fake boyfriend. With a man who had implied he would never date you.

“Two hot chocolates. Sizes small and large,” Jongho said to the man keeping the stall.

Well honestly, he was more like a boy. He looked the age of 17 and extremely bored. You couldn’t blame him since he had been holding the stall probably for hours already, trying to earn some pathetic amount of pocket money.

You dug for your wallet, prepared to pay for the small sized drink, since Jongho most likely had ordered the large one for himself. He could have at least asked which size you wanted; the small one would not be enough to quench your thirst.

“I’ll pay,” Jongho said and pushed a carton mug full of hot chocolate into your hands.

The fact that he promised to pay surprised you already, but you noticed that the mug he had given you was the size large.

“Thank you...” you mumbled, looking up in Jongho’s eyes.

His blank stare made you uncomfortable. Why did he never smile at you? It wasn’t very convincing to never crack a smile at you, when you were supposed to act like a couple in love.

You two found a bench to sit on under a tree. It was a beautiful spot, the perfect place for you to sit next to each other, huddle for warmth and share tender kisses – that was if you two had been actually dating. There was just one problem: the bench was covered in thick layer of snow after last night’s storm.

“Are you really suggesting this spot? I’d look like I had wet myself after sitting on that.”

“You can sit on my lap. That way your ass won’t get wet.”

Jongho’s proposal made your eyes widen. He was truly shameless.

And finally, it happened. He smiled at you – although it was a mischievous one, it was the first smile you had ever seen on his face. The emotionless man was forgotten as you watched how his cheeks, slightly red because of the cold air, rounded out and made him look like a teddy bear.

“You’re always so closed off, trying to hide your emotions,” Jongho said.

Look who’s talking. He wasn’t exactly the most open person in the world either.

“I’m not closed off. Both you and Mingi saw how emotional I got over his songs.”

Ever so slightly, Jongho’s expression darkened. His smile was long gone and he sighed in frustration.

“I’m musical too, you know? I may not rap as well as Mingi but I can sing.”

“Really? Prove it,” you challenged him.

“No. You don’t deserve to hear my singing,” Jongho took a sip of his drink.

“Fine. Then I’ll assume Mingi is better.”

It was a risky game to play with Jongho. His reaction could be anything, but you couldn’t stop yourself before teasing him. You were getting way too comfortable. You knew it was dangerous, but you had been craving to have a friend for so long. Now that someone was actually willingly wasting their time on you, it felt like a chance to a new start.

“I’ll sing for you one day but first, I want to give you something.”

You raised a brow at Jongho’s statement, and your heartbeat quickened as he pulled something out of his bag.

Could it be a Valentine’s Day gift? Maybe a flower or a heart-shaped chocolate box?

But it had been a mistake to let your guard slightly down around Jongho. He proved to you right at that moment that he shouldn’t have been trusted. That you should have run away and hid from him when you had the chance.

The object in his hand was unrecognizable in the dark at first. You could only see the gleam of the yard lights reflected on the object, making you finally realize what it was.

Jongho tossed his hot chocolate cup away, symbolizing how all of his sweet gestures had been a skillful play thrown away as well, just like your whole relationship. Now his other hand was completely free to use, while the other one held a pocket knife.

You wanted to scream or try to convince him to spare your life, but you were speechless. Only thing you managed to do was take a few, shaky steps away from him, the monster in front of you.

He didn’t let you get further away as he followed you with a gleam in his eyes that screamed insanity.

“Do you fear death or me?” Jongho asked calmy.

You glanced at the park. It was like everyone had suddenly disappeared. There was no savior for you if Jongho attacked. You would lose your life alone in the darkness before anyone could have come to your rescue.

“A-Aren’t they the same thing?”

Jongho shook his head with a chuckle, “Death sets you free. I will never do that.”

His words rang in your ears for a split second before you dashed. Time was running out.

“Y/N! Stop!”

You didn’t even hear Jongho’s shout. No matter how loud he could have screamed at you, there was no chance you’d stop. You had to run out of the park and reach other people before Jongho could catch you and brutally pierce and cut your body, until you were unrecognizable to the police. Maybe even Yunho would be the one to find you. Yunho who wasn’t the stalker despite all your baseless suspicions.

But one of the worst things, that was possible in that moment, happened. The ground under your feet was on ice and betrayed you ultimately. Your heart almost stopped as you lost your balance.

Your cry of pain echoed in the park as your head smashed onto the ground, although your back had received the worst impact of falling on ice. It hurt like hell, but even in all your suffering, you couldn’t think of anything else than about the fact that this was the end. You had tried to trust other people and this was the result. In your intense pain and on the brink of unconsciousness, you didn’t even notice as Jongho got on his knees next to you on the ground.

Tears ran down your cheeks, but you couldn’t even beg for your life. It was futile.

Last thing your mind registered before fainting was Jongho’s warm hand petting your head.

It felt like you had been unconscious for eternity when in reality it had been only 20 minutes or so. When you finally opened your eyes, you found your surroundings familiar. The person next to you was familiar as well.

“You fainted.”

No words left your lips, but your eyes told everything. You were terrified and confused.

“I brought you here after you lost your consciousness.”

You glanced at the room. It was your own apartment, everything in their own places, but it still seemed so wrong and unsafe, because of the man in front of you. The couch you found comfortable every other day, felt way too stiff in that moment, making the pain in your back worse.

“That doesn’t explain why I’m alive. What do you want from me?” you managed to utter out, but the wavering in your voice didn’t go unnoticed.

Jongho turned his face away with a guilty look. It was clear he regretted something.

“It was all just a really bad joke. I didn’t mean to scare you that much.”

The mix of anger and relief felt odd; you didn’t know whether to scream at him or cry in happiness that you didn’t get murdered. But you were too scared of him to show any reactions. Even if it had been just a joke, only a deranged person would scare others like that for their own entertainment.

That’s why you forced yourself to forgive him.

“...I forgive you” you gritted through your teeth.

“I didn’t apologize though.”

Your anger only flared up at Jongho’s arrogant response. First, he had seemed guilty for scaring you to death, but any ounce of regret you thought he had, was out of the window. Soon, Jongho would be out of the window as well; you didn’t want to see his remorseless face at that moment.

“Get out of my house.”

You had turned to look away from him, because you were afraid, you’d lash out at him.

Jongho looked even slightly hurt at your words. The frown on his face was an indication of his growing agitation and refusal to leave that easily.

“Do you want me to say sorry then?”

“No,” you murmured, “It’s too late for that.”

“Exactly. And I’m not sorry anyways,” Jongho scoffed, “I had to see how you’d react if the stalker was about to kill you. Think of it as practice. It was for your own good.”

Taking in a deep breath, you tried to stay calm. It could be dangerous to anger the man even more, although you were the only one who had the right to be angry at that moment. And God, you were furious.

“For my own good? I got a concussion and nearly broke my back!”

“If you don’t appreciate me looking out for you, we can end this fake relationship.”

Looking out for you? You couldn’t believe the audacity that man had.

“Then let’s end this.”

Jongho seemed to be stunned by your words – as stunned as a man that stoic and cold could be. You even felt a sense of glee at the tiny look of panic on his face.

“No. I wasn’t serious. I just felt irritated because you don’t see how I want to protect you.”

But you didn’t fall for that. You had no intention to be a victim of his manipulation.

As you attempted to stand up from the couch, you whimpered in agony. The pain on your back was unbearable, but you were more concerned about the piercing headache, feeling like your head was being squished by a hydraulic press.

“Let me-” Jongho started, getting up and trying to help you.

“Don’t touch me.”

You stepped away from him, feeling afraid once again. Could you be blamed for that, when just a half an hour ago you feared for your life because of that man? Even though it had been supposedly a joke, you couldn’t shake off the sense of panic at Jongho walking closer.

“I’m sorry.”

“Get out,” you sighed, “Please.”

The bright lights in your apartment hurt your head even more, and you barely stayed on your feet. Although your eyes were getting blurry, you managed to see Jongho’s sad face and him walking towards your front door.

The apartment was silent as you sat down again, rubbing your temples and trying to ease the pain. The heavy tension hadn’t left although Jongho had. You didn’t know how to meet him again at the therapy session in a few days.

That Valentine’s Day had seemed successful at first, and you had enjoyed Mingi’s performance despite the heartbreak you felt at seeing his anguish. Even conversing with Jongho had been nice until his poor attempt of a joke. What was supposed to be a day of friendship and romance – even fake kind – ended up in being horrifying.

You really needed rest, some way to forget the headache for a while, so you fell asleep on the couch. Maybe the dizziness and Jongho’s “joke” would be just distant memories after a good nap, although you doubted that you’d ever forget Jongho’s face as he had creeped closer to you at the park.

It might have been 30 minutes or so when the sound of a doorbell woke you up. If it was Jongho, you wouldn’t even open the door, not prepared to hear his excuses.

Reluctantly, you dragged yourself to the door, wincing in pain every step you took. One look from the peephole revealed, that instead of Jongho, there was a man with flowers. He looked serious and exhausted but his silly little cap made him look less scary.

“Flowers for miss Y/N L/N,” the man forced a smile on his face as you opened the door.

Your heart fluttered. Someone had remembered you and sent you flowers. It could have been your family who sent the beautiful, bright yellow roses, since they wanted to remind you that they loved you despite all of the things they had done to you.

Or maybe it could have been from the stalker.

Nonetheless, you had to accept the roses, no matter how much their thorns could hurt you. They could prickle you with longing or draw blood from your fingers with promises of terror, but your curiosity got the best of you.

You set the roses down on your dinner table when you noticed that they had a little letter tied to them with a pink ribbon.

“Your pathetic boyfriend didn’t even give you a gift. Look what I brought.”

Your blood ran cold. It was no doubt of who had sent you this. Still, you wanted to believe it could have been Mingi instead, even though he didn’t even know where you lived. Anything but the indisputable truth that the sender was indeed the stalker.

But it wasn’t the end of your shock. You wanted to cry when you noticed another thing as well – a pink envelope that had come with the rose, inviting you to open it. There were heart stickers on it, one of them being a shiny teddy bear holding a heart. The envelope wanted to cast a spell on you and make you so scared yet curious, that you couldn’t stop yourself from seeing what it contained.

And it definitely succeeded in that, although you tried your best to ignore it, to leave it unopened for the sake of your own sanity.

Seven pieces of paper were revealed to be inside of it.

You hated these envelopes so much. You despised the drawings, pictures and letters you had to see because you were just too curious to stay in blissful ignorance.

Six out of seven of the pieces of paper had drawings on them. They were drawings of parts of a human body. Two pieces of arms, two of legs, one torso and one head. It had been clearly one whole drawing, one whole body of a woman, before having been cut into six pieces. The head even had a pout on it and hair similarly styled as yours.

Confused about the drawing, you prepped yourself to take a look at the 7th piece of paper. The drawing was definitely a threat, there was no doubt of that, but you craved to understand it deeper. Although the whole thing made you feel nauseous, you needed to know what kind of and level of peril you were in – and to do that, you had to bite the bullet.

There were words on the paper, written by a hand, whose writing style you recognized.

“I’ll cut off your arms if you try to fight back,” the first sentence said.

“I’ll cut off your legs if you try to escape,” the second sentence informed.

“I’ll cut off your head if your eyes wander on or lips kiss someone else.”

After you had read the final threat on the paper, you leaned on your chair, everything seemed to have slowed down. Your heartbeat was lazy and quiet, not overwhelmingly loud like in other moments of fear like this. It was so silent both in your head and the apartment, except for the rustling somewhere close. Right now, you needed Jongho. You didn’t have anyone else; only he could help, protect, and save you. He was the only person that wanted to hear your cries and see what he could do to stop you from hurting. Cursing yourself for kicking him out of your apartment, you wondered if he’d even agree to help you anymore. Maybe he’d still hug you and find the stalker to beat him up, and maybe, hopefully, he’d know where the quiet, almost inconspicuous, rustling noise in your apartment was coming from.

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<- Chapter 4.

Chapter 6. ->

Masterlist

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Taglist: @devilzliaison

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angyo · 11 months ago

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The more i think abt mahoako and the more discourse i see, the more i realize these are actually the perfect ages for the cast. In a postmodern, duchamp's fountain-esque conversation starter way. You learn a lot about someone's base moral code from their opinion on the show and the reasoning behind it.

"heh, the woke libtards on twitter are gonna be so mad!" 4chan republican, will probably shit their pants when they realize they aren't half assing the gay. Ultimately a contrarian with no code beyond trying to cause as much pain as possible.

"anyone who watches is a pedophile!" Has an Aristotelian view on morality, considering people to be good or bad on a basic level. It doesn't matter if people are actually harmed because morality is contained in an individual. If you act in ways that aren't virtuous you are now bad, the only difference between causing harm and not is the degree to which you are bad.

"i wish they were older, even 16/17 would work!" Disgust reasoning, what's the difference between 14 and 16 in this context? If it's bad for them to be 14 we're applying irl morality to fiction, and specifically considering the audience as an involved party (since kids of the same age can do whatever). By that logic, why is it better to watch 16yos fuck? The characters already look much older than middle schoolers, and being 16 wouldn't put them in even barely legal territory. That's still a high schooler, and the only change would be numbers stated. But 16 sounds better than 14, so that's the number.

Hell my utilitarianism definitely bleeds through all of my opinions, and certainly a number of other things i don't even realize.

And the kicker is that for every kink only seen in porn used in the manga, there's 5 kinks that are commonly used as gags or violence stand ins in kids cartoons. It works brilliantly as satire because truly some scenes are only a sliver away from smth you'd see in a family show. A bit of exposed skin, a close up, a lingering touch, are all that stand between it and smth I'd have watched on cartoon network. Hell totally spies has gotta be almost 1 to 1 with how much that one had going on lol

And the benefit of mahoako over disgusting shit like cuties is that these aren't actual kids getting hurt. Magia baiser isn't gonna turn 20 and take up alcoholism after realizing her childhood acting job fucked her up in ways she can't even process because she isn't real. W/e you think abt fiction that's still a step up from the average early 00s nickelodeon show fuck you dan schneider

#angyo #mahoako #mahou shoujo ni akogarete #gushing over magical girls

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weirdsht · 3 months ago

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Disillusioned 11 . Nothing More, Nothing Less (4)

a/n: double update this week because i got a perfect score on my all-or-nothing oral quiz last night hehe. also, this was supposed to be 2 installments only but I keep making things longer than when I first storyboarded lol

tags: feelings in progress, trying to break out from an abusive mentality, crying, fluff, remember that healing is not instant and takes time

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Everyone dispersed to do their own thing when they got back home. Of course, they did this after they made sure that _____ was inside their room and properly resting.

The healer complied with everyone’s wishes, how could they not when Choi Han was practically guarding the door? However, they were starting to feel restless and bored. Back at their old home, they were never told to rest for this long.

It was the opposite actually.

Everyone back there wanted them to get back in action as soon as possible. It doesn’t matter how bad they feel, _____ is expected to get back to work after 5 hours max.

Knock

“Cale-nim asked if you feel well enough to join him for dinner.”

Good thing Choi Han gave _____ an agenda before they die of restlessness.

“Please tell the young master I’ll join him.”

The swordmaster inspected the healer first before nodding. Looks like _____ passed Choi Han’s detector and is deemed well enough to have dinner in Cale’s room.

It was an invitation for dinner but the Medicus knows that its real purpose is so that Cale can have a serious chat with them.

_____ already knows their fault.

In Cale and everyone else’s eyes, they acted recklessly. It’s _____’s mistake that they didn’t inform Cale that could handle that much. Then in turn because of that miscommunication, some things were hindered and they lost manpower for a short while.

To put it another way, _____ hindered everyone’s work.

For that, they were sorry. They didn’t mean to be deadweight that had to be carried around.

_____ told themself that they’ll tell Cale they won’t repeat the same mistake when they have dinner.

…things didn’t go as planned.

When the healer tried to explain that they certainly could handle more than what they did in the Whipper Kingdom Cale only sighed. Then when they tried to say sorry Cale frowned.

That’s never a good sign.

But _____ can’t think of what else they did wrong.

It didn’t help that the children averaging 8 years old also have the same expression.

“You know that I’m trash right?”

“Huh? Uhm yes, I do.”

_____ knew the rumours that labelled Cale as trash, but they didn’t know why it mattered right now.

“Right and as you know someone trash is selfish.”

The healer has no idea where this is going. In the first place, Cale was far from selfish. He may be opportunistic and a little manipulative but everything he did was for the betterment of others.

“Because I’m selfish I don’t care whatever happens to other people. My priority will always be me and my people first.”

_____ still has no idea where this is going.

“That means you, you rascal.”

Cale poked _____’s forehead, straightening the lines of confusion that had formed.

“You’re one of my people. You have been since that day you agreed to leave the City of Life with me.

Meaning, you are my priority. Meaning, I will not tolerate such dangerous and self-sacrificial actions from you.”

On looked at Cale as if he had no right to talk but the redhead didn’t notice it.

“And so in the future, I hope you can promise to never do anything that will harm you again. I don’t need promises of you doing better, I just want to know that you won’t get hurt this severely from healing other people...”

Plop

Cale who had more to say stopped speaking.

How could he not when he saw _____’s tears?

The same _____ who had a neutral expression after almost dying.

The same _____ who just nodded and moved on after realizing their family had abandoned them.

The same _____ who still had a poker face despite shaking from their nightmares.

That same _____ is now crying.

And it looks like they didn’t even notice they were crying.

_____ only noticed their tears when they picked up the two kittens that had been pawing their arm. After they did, the two took it upon themself to paw away the tears streaming down their face.

It seemed to have the opposite effect though.

Not only did it not stop the healer’s tears it actually made them cry more.

_____ couldn't stop the tears from flowing no matter how hard they tried. After a few seconds of trying they gave up and asked Cale a question instead.

"Cale-sunbae are you never mad at me? You never yell or punish me even though I keep messing up and is essentially useless to your group of experts..."

Cale feels as though he is gonna have a heart attack from all the surprises because of _____.

Are they being serious?

How could Cale get mad at them or think of them as useless when their abilities are so useful?

Just the amount of money they've saved from using fewer potions because they have a great healer was already amazing. Then there's the ancient power that makes them a living detector. Because of that ability, everyone found it easier to navigate the plants and monsters inside the Forest of Darkness.

How could someone amazing be deemed useless?

This was certainly because of the trash that adopted them.

Cale is going to make sure he fucks them up sooner or later.

But for now, the young master is going to make sure _____ understands their worth.

“I don’t take in useless people. I only take in people that can pay for their meals.”

The redhead used his personal handkerchief to dry the healer's tears.

As he did _____ could feel that warm and fuzzy feeling they felt back at the Whipper Kingdom come back. However, they ignored it in favour of listening to Cale’s words.

“Remember, I personally asked you to join me, to join us. Have you ever seen me make the wrong judgement?”

Cale is definitely tooting his own horn.

But hey if it makes _____ understand.

And it looks like it did because _____ shook their head no. Then they stayed silent as they stared at Cale’s handkerchief. As if they were absorbing the weight of his words.

Cale deemed it enough for now. He knows that _____ will have a hard time reversing everything they’ve learned. It won't be easy, but Cale is willing to go at _____’s pace.

Later that night Choi Han knocked on Cale’s door to report something.

When the swordmaster entered the room the first thing he noticed was how none of the children were with Cale.

“They’re in _____’s room. They said something about making sure that _____ doesn’t cry again.”

Was Cale’s short answer when asked.

“_____-nim cried?”

Choi Han couldn’t believe it. Just what did his Cale-nim say to someone as expressionless as _____ that it made them cry…

“Check on them yourself if you don’t believe me.”

That’s exactly what Choi Han did after he finished his report.

Don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t because he didn’t trust Cale’s words. It’s more because he wanted to see if the healer was doing better now.

The black-haired man knocked on the door and Raon answered by opening it using mana.

It’s dark in the room but Choi Han has no problems seeing everything. As he scans the room he sees the children averaging 8 years old lying down on _____’s bed. The two kittens are already asleep just like the healer, leaving the black dragon to be the only one awake.

Choi Han smiled at the sight. The children didn’t look any different aside from the fact they were sleeping on _____’s bed instead of Cale’s. At the same time, it looks like _____ themself is sleeping peacefully.

The swordmaster checked everything one more time to make sure he didn’t miss anything before closing the door to let the four get their well-deserved rest.

73 notes · View notes

gothic-thoughts · 3 months ago

Text

A Kiss Before I Go

(a remaster for the girlies)

Satoru Gojo x Black Fem Reader Fluff

Ex-friends2lovers, Deputy!Reader, Cowboy!Gojo

CW: she/her pronouns, reader gets shot, gojo a rich bounty hunter, a lil angsty

TW: blood mention, passing out, shooting/killing mention

Word Count: 1154 (give or take)

"Ya really came all this way to find lil' ol' me...?"

I look up to see Gojo Satoru standing on the second-floor balcony with his revolver pointed back at mine. Despite the black bandana over his eyes, I could tell by that smirk that he looked down on me in amusement as I stumbled into his house.

"That's sweet~" He finished, "Ya really that desperate for my attention, (Y/n)?"

"You killed the mayor!"

"Aht, aht, don't gimme that. Ya know I don't just go on killin' folk; I was paid, he was a criminal. Simple as that."

"So how come other folks are dead?"

"Cuz they got in the way of my work and I happened to have 5 bullets left."

"Well, I'm here finishin' up my work so you're under arrest."

"And what if I don't wanna?"

"Then..." I stumble a little, "Then I'd have to kill ya."

"Kill me? Really now, ain't that bordering on vigilante territory? Not gon' lie, I'm kinda hurt, thought we were thick as thieves."

"I don't give a rat's ass h-how close we were. Put ya hands up and walk down those steps real slow like and maybe I'll visit ya in jail."

"Were?"

"Were."

He scoffs, loosening his grip on his gun.

"I had to kill him with no witnesses or I don't get paid."

"W-well I guess it's too bad ya got one. Now, reach for the sky and walk down the steps. I'm t-takin'...."

Gojo pauses and presses his pelvis to the wooden railing to lean over the balcony. He squints.

"You bleedin' already?" He chuckled, "I ain't even shoot you yet."

I look down just in time to see a couple droplets of blood fall from my hip and crash into the small puddle of previous drops made on his old wooden flooring.

"What the fuck, you okay?" He asked, straightening up, "That amount of blood ain't nothin' to sneeze at... y'sure y'alright?"

"Don't act like ya care." I pant.

"(Y/n), did you ride all this way wit'--"

Everything became fuzzy and the next thing I knew, the back of my head stung with pain and I was now staring at his high ceiling. Rapid steps echoed around me and all I had to do was blink before seeing Satoru kneeling beside me and quickly lifting my shirt to see the hole where the blood was pooling out. He muttered curses to himself.

"Who did this to ya?"

"L-leave me alone."

"Shut up and tell me who did this."

"C-cops."

"The fuck they shoot ya for?!"

"I was the only one holdin' gun in the crowd... They thought I killed 'im."

His face contorted into shock as he took out a different black bandana from his pocket and pressed it into my wound.

"Why the hell do you have a second bandana?" My voice strains as the pain grows slightly more intense.

"Case I get mine ripped inna bar fight. Now hush, I'mma getcha back to town, 'kay?"

"Think I'd rather die, actually."

"What, ya still don't trust me~?"

"You the reason I'm shot, Satoru. And I was here to arrest you."

"Well since y'already blamin' me, I'll tell ya old friends ya made a valiant effort before I shot ya."

He starts to help me up, slinging my arm over his opposite shoulder as he helps me outside to horse and carriage. I stared at it but despite my pained, glazed-over eyes, I was in shock.

"You tellin' me... you a bounty hunter but got a carriage 'stead of just a horse?"

"I got horses too, I just cain't help it if I'm a lil' high-maintence." He laughs, "And lucky for you, my driver ain't here; so you get to have the pleasure of me takin' the reins." He winks.

"If I wanted to die, I woulda just stayed on ya living room floor."

"Oh shut up and c'mon."

Satoru helped me climb onto the carriage floor, and I didn't even bother pulling myself onto the seat since the pain was so bad. As soon he closes the door, I roll onto my back with tears stinging my eyes. My head rolled to the side as the horse's galloping fell deaf on my ears as I felt the bullethole gush more blood.

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

"Gojo!"

"Huh, what!?"

I looked at his panicked face before looking to the other side of my bed to see a tray of bloody cotton balls on a medical cart. Satoru walks towards the bed and I shift towards him and immediately stop and wince at the feeling of tight pulling at my side.

"Hey, hey." He soothed, resting his hand on my knee, "There's stitches in there, so relax."

"What?"

"You in the hospital, 'member?"

I punch him across the face to which he jerks his head from it. He smiles smugly, as he rubs his jaw.

"I shoulda shot you on sight."

"Right, yeah-yeah, 'course, keep that energy for after you recover. We'll can continue this lil' meet up somewhere else."

Satoru cupped my face in his hand and pulled me into a deep kiss, almost like he missed me. I try to keep my eyes open in surprise only to slowly succumb to the passion. But as they start to close, his lips are torn from mine with a smug chuckle.

"Been waitin' on that for a while." He smirks, "And that's the only thing that's gonna keep me goin' 'til we meet again."

"If we meet again, I'mma kill you where you stand!"

"Like I'd let you do that..." He places another peck on my lips, "Besides, I just gave you some incentive not to."

"Wait, what--"

"Don'tchu die on me now, officer."

He tips his hat and jogs out of the room. He didn't kiss me like he missed me, he kissed like he was going to.

"Gojo!"

I painfully stand up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, and use the iron headboard to help me stand. I hold my side and limp after him into the brightly lit hospital corridor only to see nurses and patients calmly walking the corridor as if nothing happened.

"Ma'am, please. Ma'am!" A nurse worried, "Those stitches need to heal."

"Where did he go? He ran out of my room!"

"Where did who go?"

"Gojo? Satoru Gojo?!"

"The... bounty hunter...?"

I roll my eyes, "Yeah-yeah, he was in my room and just ran out! You tellin' me you ain't seen 'im?"

"Ma'am, you ain't had any visitors since you were admitted."

"Riddle me this; who emitted me then?"

The nurse grabs and reads a chart, "Says here, your brother did."

"Wha-- and you believed 'im!?"

"Had no choice... Fella insisted he write it himself."

She showed me the sign-in sheet, pointing at the bottom, to see he wrote my name for the patient's column and then literally wrote "her brother" in the admittees column. I scoff and curse under my breath, half pissed off yet half impressed. That bastard brought me here, then snuck back hours later for a fuckin' kiss. But thinking about them again, almost makes me feel better about potentially losing my job.

"You seen what he looked like though, right...?"

"Tall fella, all black get-up...hat hid his face and hair though."

I groan. "'Course it did..."

69 notes · View notes

agent-cupcake · 11 months ago

Text

Flashbang

Chapter 1 - Puppet Loosely Strung

Spotify Playlist / All Chapters / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 /Chapter 7/ Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 pt.1 / Chapter 9 pt.2 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12

Pairing: One Piece Live Action Buggy x f! Reader

Synopsis: Running away to join the circus doesn’t go exactly as you hoped it would.

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, murder, generally dark content

Word Count: 13.9k

Disclaimer: I don’t read the manga or watch the anime. This is based solely on OPLA Buggy because Jeff Ward.

Some quick notes before we start: This is what I've been working on this since October. Originally it was going to be one really big one-shot posted at the same time, but it's big enough that I can justify posting it as a series. I'll add warnings as I go, but this is not a happy story and there will be explicit content later on. The reader character might not be somebody you see yourself in, I had a very specific image of what character I had in mind while writing. To me, reader fic is more of a sort of play acting rather than "oh that's literally me" but I know that's not everybody's cup of tea. A lot of this is cope fic and it shows. When times get rough the porn gets rougher, right?

I had help writing this from an individual who is very dear to me. Flashbang wouldn't exist without her, especially since she was the one who gave me the clown brain rot. And then there has been the hours of brainstorming and spitballing and watching Jeff Ward shows/movies as she continued to feed my addiction. Thank you, my love, and also damn you because this wasn't what I needed.

New chapter every Sunday. Enjoy~

“Let me put myself in your shoes

As a puppet loosely strung

Around you, they were so confused

That a faulty man could have so much fun”

All it took was a little doubt. Through logic or confusion or wishful thinking, you could be convinced that the insignificant person who had parasitically driven you around for the past however many years was a stranger, and now they were gone. Everything that had ever happened fell into incomprehensible dust, and every thought you ever had belonged to somebody else. A cycle of a million memories you didn’t recognize spun through this foggy place, none of them real, none of them familiar.

Logic, confusion, wishful thinking, or unconsciousness. An endless dream of nothing at all. But as soon as you became aware, it was awareness that those thoughts happened in the past tense, crushed inward by the unrelenting force of existence, and you were shoved back into a body. You—not the real you, the stranger you, the one made of heat and fury and pain, the one you couldn’t recognize—were gasping and thrashing in ignorant confusion, coughing out the sickening taste of blood in your throat.

Everything, all of it, hurt. And that was all that existed.

Until it wasn’t.

Your panicked thrashing made you realize that you were upright, your body straining painfully against the various chains keeping you pinned against the wall in an X. The position put nearly all of your weight on your shoulders and left your head to sag heavily to the side, making the terrible, dizzying headache that much worse. Having suffered more than your fair share of them, you knew that this headache was from more than an uncomfortable position or your old injury. A hot throbbing pain radiated out from the back of your head, shooting little sparks down your spine. It hurt bad enough that nausea formed a tight, heavy ball in your stomach. Gritting your teeth, you forced your eye open, fighting the urge to cringe away from the light as it rolled this way and that. Colors and lights were nothing more than a nauseating smear, but at least you could see.

Little by little, you became aware of yourself. From far away, you had a vague recollection of leaving, of nerves, excitement, and then of danger. But… no, why weren’t you at home? Doom settled in its rightful place as you realized exactly how little you remembered or knew, slotting into the spot of coherence and reason. Despite the pain, you fought against the shackles holding you in the uncomfortable position, irrationally desperate to be free of them.

“There she is! Finally,” somebody said from your left. His voice hit like a hammer to the back of your aching head. You strained to look at the speaker, he sounded close, but you couldn’t turn your head far enough to make up for your limited vision.

Luckily, he didn’t stay out of sight for long. The man’s boots were loud and deliberate as he slowly moved out of your literal blind spot. To your ill-adjusting eye, he was not much more than a blur of white and red and blue, his big smile smudged as you rapidly blinked to focus. A little shock of meaningless recognition in your brain saw the makeup and red nose and said ‘clown’, but the sheer ridiculousness of that made you even more sure that this wasn’t real.

“Not a fun way to wake up, is it?” he asked. “Keep breathing, let it drain back and cough it out. Trust me, it’s over quicker that way.”

The question you tried to form was, “Who are you?” but all you could manage was a heavy groan followed by a fit of painful coughs, wheezing raggedly in between. Each desperate convulsion rattled the chains and caused the wood to creak, but did nothing to free your bound limbs. The man seemed bored by it, annoyed he had to wait for you to get ahold of yourself.

Since he hadn’t immediately helped you down, you could only assume that he was the one who shackled you in the first place. Strung you up against a wooden board of some kind in a room you didn’t know. Cramped and windowless, it reeked of paint and sweat and sawdust and sweet salty rot—a unique smell that didn’t help your nausea. Clutter stacked up against the walls. Dense, humid air pressed against you like a heavy coat, paradoxically chilling. Probably because of the fever burning beneath your skin, slicking you up with sweat, soaking into your clothes and the bandana you kept wrapped around your head over the left eye.

Breathe. You focused on your breathing. Panic wouldn’t help you.

“You done?” he asked. Without any other choices, you turned your head to shamefully wipe your face off on your sleeve before nodding. “Great. Well, now that you’re awake… Welcome!” He threw out his arms with the flamboyant manner of a showman with the greeting, but they wilted right after, his big smile dropping a bit. “Or, at least, that’s what I would say if you hadn’t let yourself in and stolen the opportunity from me.”

That was bad. Very, very bad. You jerked in an awkward, uncoordinated burst, physically reacting to the danger he presented.

“No, no, don’t leave on my account,” he said, waving his hands and getting closer as if to stop you. “Oh wait, you can’t! Hah! Yeah, ‘cause of the chains.” He smiled affably, like it was a harmless joke, standing close enough for his gloved fingers to skim along the chain wrapped around your neck. “I guess you’re not going anywhere, huh?”

You didn’t respond, barely daring to breathe when he was so close. Smiles and melodrama aside, his blue eyes were oddly dead, fixed on you without the slightest bit of humor. And then it finally came back to you, the vital thing that you should have known, that you would have known if you weren’t strung up and suffering such a crippling headache. The makeup, the nose, the hat—

“You’re,” you began to say, but your voice was hoarse and weak, you could barely get it out when he was looking at you so closely, so intently. You cleared your throat, wincing at the metallic taste. “You’re the-that pirate captain Buggy, like on the-the poster?” Right! The clown guy, the red-nosed pirate. You were looking for him. So this was… good, wasn’t it?

He gave you a flat look, clearly not sharing your weak enthusiasm. “Yes. I am that pirate captain. Buggy, the Genius Jester? The most feared pirate captain in all the East Blue?” He turned with a dramatic flick of his coat, messing with something that had to flash silver before you realized it was a knife. “The man destined to find the One Piece and become King of the Pirates. Yes. I am that pirate captain. And,” he paused, checking to make sure you were paying attention, “a very busy, very important man. I’ve got, oh, ten minutes or so for you to decide how this is gonna go. So let’s get straight to it.” He turned back, pointing the knife at you. “Who are you, and what are you after?”

The accusatory tone of his voice took you aback. “Nothing… I’m not anybody,” you stammered out. “And this… this isn’t what it looks like, I swear.”

Buggy, to your surprise, relented after a second of considering your appeal, nodding understandingly.

There was no transition from his look of sympathy to raising the knife and aiming it at you. By the time you realized he meant to throw it, you barely had a chance to yelp. The blade took a loud, thumping bite into the wood beside you. On your left side, of course. Where you couldn’t see it. You could feel it, though. The air displacement ruffled the fine hairs around your ear. If you had flinched in that direction, it probably would be in your skull. With your dizzy head aching and confused, you had no regulation to your fear or discomfort, your breathing dangerously unsteady and tears pricking the corner of your eyes.

“Let me try a different question,” Buggy said before you could collect yourself, pulling out another knife. “Who else knows about this place?”

“Nobody! I swear, nobody else. I was just…” You didn’t know what to say. It was all you could do to breathe the thick, heavy air and fight down the tide of nausea.

“Just what?” Buggy asked, leaning in with raised eyebrows to show that he was listening intently. You opened and closed your mouth, unable to come up with the right words. Thoughts churned through the thick sludge in your head, getting stuck or lost or confused.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, the stumbling apology coming out more naturally than anything else, an attempt to buy time while you organized your thoughts. “Please doh-don’t…. I’m so ss-sorry.”

Buggy sighed, standing up straight and raising his hand to aim.

“Nonono, please d-” You yelped louder this time, flinching away as the knife streaked through the air and stuck not even an inch away from your right cheek. You exhaled a pathetic little sob, whatever you were bound to shaking with your body.

“Listen, honey buns,” Buggy said. “Drop the act. Stop the whining. I caught you, red handed, sneaking into my lair.” He pulled something out of his pocket. Not another knife, but a piece of paper which he unfolded, holding it up for you to see. His wanted poster, creased into sixths from the way you folded it to keep it close, to keep it hidden. “I found this in your bag. You know who I am, and you know where you are. You have to, so let’s do away with all the theatrics, okay?”

You swallowed hard, nodding quickly in the hope that it would appease him.

“Right now, this is a conversation,” Buggy said, gesturing between the two of you. “A light interrogation, really. But if you keep being uncooperative and wasting my time, it’s gonna go from being interrogate-y to being torture-y real quick. You don’t want that, right?” Although he was unmistakably threatening you, Buggy’s tone was more natural than before. There was a bluntness to it, an honesty. Men like him didn’t idly use words like torture.

You sniffed, trying very hard to calm yourself down. This was a misunderstanding, so you just had to convince him. Simple as that. He would understand. You would make him understand.

“Right,” you agreed.

“Fantastic. So,” he loudly clapped his hands together, “who else knows about this place?”

“Nobody, I promise… I’m really sorry I broke in,” you told him, speaking slowly so your words didn’t catch. “I just wanted to meet with you.”

Buggy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, the hair hanging out from the sides of his hat swaying as his head tilted curiously. “You’re a fan?” he clarified. “That explains why you’re so pathetic. Well I hate to break it to you, but there’s a reason I only hold meet and greets after shows.”

“No, that’s not why! I-I want to join your crew,” you said. “I came to ask you to let me join your crew.”

He blinked twice, staring at you with obvious disbelief. “Excuse me, what?”

“I want to be a pirate,” you told him, louder. “Please. Please let me join your crew.”

Buggy’s expression didn’t change, but you could see the rippling shift of incredulity, befuddlement, skepticism, and then amusement in his eyes. That emotion burst outward into a loud laugh, making you flinch. “That’s the best you can do?” he asked. “Ask to join my crew?” He looked at you again, laughing even harder. “I don’t know what’s funnier—that anybody would send you to spy on me, or that you’d think I would consider hiring you.”

“I mean it!” you argued, humiliation and desperation seeping into the thousand other discomforts of your position. This wasn’t at all how you wanted this to go.

“Sweetheart,” Buggy said condescendingly, “even assuming I believe you, this is a pirate crew, not an afterschool club.”

“I know. I know what pirates do, I know what you do,” you told him. “I’ll do anything, whatever you want. Please, please, just give me a chance.”

He nodded, turning to pace as he thought about it.

“Okay, let’s say that I buy this… this act of yours,” Buggy said. “Do you have any experience? Maintaining ships, reading maps, loading cannons. You know, basic stuff.”

There was a line you had prepared to answer this question, one that would paint you in the most charitable light. You remembered that, but you couldn’t remember the line. All you could give was the truth. “A little.”

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Thought so. What about specialties? Unique skills? Any sort of talent that I can use in my show—anything at all. I mean other than,” he gestured vaguely in your direction, “that. We don’t need another one eyed midget. They’re surprisingly common.”

“I’m not a midget,” you told him, nerves fading to incredulity.

Buggy stepped back to size you up before seemingly conceding the point with a shrug. “And the eye?” He covered his left eye to illustrate. “Is that for a bit or something?”

Your stomach twisted with a familiar lurch. Disgust. Shame. Phantom light in the dark. “It’s not.”

“How’d you lose it?”

“I didn’t… lose it.”

“It’s still in there?” he asked excitedly, stepping forward and reaching to remove the bandana. “I have got to see this.”

“No, please—please don’t,” you begged, trying to wriggle away from his hand. Pinned to the board with your hands bound above your head, there was nowhere to go. “Please don’t, please-”

“Come on,” Buggy said, indifferent to your pleas as he pulled the sweat soaked fabric off of your left eye. “How bad could it be—AH!” He yelled in horror, jumping away as if you’d bitten him.

The bandana hit the floor, leaving your ruined eye and its jagged scar exposed. You couldn’t hide. All you could do was flinch back, turning your head away. “I’m sorry,” you said, ready to continue apologizing before you realized that his shock had immediately dissolved into raucous laughter. “Why are you… why are you laughing?” you asked, pulling desperately against the chains.

“I got you good,” Buggy said, his laughter subsiding. “The way you reacted, I thought that you’d be completely deformed. A real sideshow. But this…” He grabbed your chin, forcing it to the side so he could get a better look. “I couldn’t charge for this.”

“Please stop,” you begged, shaking off his grip and staring hard at his shoulder.

“Ohhh. You’re really embarrassed about it.”

You didn’t say anything, focusing mostly on fighting the tears.

“Okay, alright, yeah,” Buggy said, stepping back. “I think I’m starting to get why you would risk life and limb to beg me for a job. You grew up as a cute girl in a shithole town like this. A big fish in a little pond, as they say. Then, suddenly, BAM, you’re deformed, and, sure, they all say that it was tragic, but the truth is that they can’t stand to look at you. Even the people who loved you, the people you trusted, think you’re a freak. They abandoned you. So, without any other options, you come to me, pleading for me to give you a place amidst your fellow freaks. That about it?”

You didn’t say anything—what could you say to that?— which Buggy seemed to take as confirmation, nodding thoughtfully.

“Well, go big or go home, right? As far as a starlet’s breakout role, you couldn’t go any bigger. Thing is, I’m not really looking for new acts. Not to mention your abysmal audition.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth, looking you up and down again.

You could feel your chance slipping away. Just like that. Go big or go home, that’s what he said.

“Please, Captain Buggy,” you begged, staring him in the eye despite how disquieting it was, despite how your skin crawled from exposing your left eye to somebody. Addressing him properly, at the very least, got his attention. “I promise that you won’t regret it. I’ll learn, I want to learn how to be a pirate, how to perform, all of it, everything. And if I can’t, I’ll do laundry and clean and cook, I have lots of experience with that. I don’t care what you ask me to do, if you let me join your crew, I’ll happily serve you for the rest of my life.”

Buggy didn’t respond right away. You thought—hoped—that it meant he understood how serious you were, but his expression gave you nothing. There wasn’t much light in the room in the first place, but somehow he found enough to shine unnervingly in his pale blue eyes. Somebody with a bright red clown nose shouldn’t have been able to look so intimidating, but the way he studied you burned with an uncomfortable intensity. It had been a while since anybody looked at you so frankly, so openly, without disgust or pity.

“Why?” he finally asked.

“Why…?” you repeated, confused.

“I get that you want to leave this place, and I even buy into your whole wanting to be a pirate thing, but, you know, aside from the obvious,” he gestured to himself, “why should I believe that you really want to serve me? You’re young and cute…ish, don’t you want freedom and empowerment and all those other things girls go on and on about?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Why would I?”

A moment of quiet that wasn’t quite silence but twice as heavy passed before a slow smile began to spread over Buggy’s face, and then—of all the bizarre, uncomfortable responses he could have—he laughed. “Oh, you’re broken, aren’t you?” he asked, clearly overjoyed by the revelation. “Well, I’m sold. I’ll have to start you on probation just in case you’re secretly up to no good. But, after that, you can audition for real. I’m sure I can find something you’ll be useful for.”

His reaction gave you whiplash. The word ‘broken’ was obviously bad, but everything else was good. You had succeeded. Only, you didn’t know why. You were still trying to decide if being called cute-ish was a compliment or not.

“Hey, just one more thing, okay?” Buggy asked, tapping your cheek. Standing mere inches away, he smiled a rictus grin. It wrinkled his eyes, but they were without life or pity or mercy. “If you’re lying to me about anything, I’ll carve some symmetry into your cute little face. You’ll thank me for it too. You won’t want to see what the guys will do to you after I toss you out there.”

“I’m not lying,” you said softly, shrinking back. “I promise.”

“Great!” Buggy said, his demeanor immediately cheering up. “Let’s get you down.” He walked behind the board you were strung up on, and you let out a shaky exhale. “Brace yourself,” he called. You had no idea what that meant, or how you were supposed to brace yourself when there was nothing for you to brace yourself on. “Three… two…”

He undid the lock, and the chains keeping you bound to the board went slack. You dropped hard, your limbs as heavy as lead. Luckily, your head was too light to feel anything when you hit the ground with a dull thump and the loud cacophony of rattling chains, spinning and blank and utterly empty. There was a suspended moment of floating, lighter than air itself. And then you were blinking rapidly and nauseous, pain shooting up your arms and knees.

Buggy dropped a key in front of you, metal bouncing on the old concrete.

“Unfortunately we didn’t bring any real props with us, so I had to improvise,” he said. With numb fingers, you grabbed the key and worked it into the locked cuff around your wrist. “You lucked out, if this were the real Wheel of Death, you’d be blowing chunks!” He paused, looking down at you. “Can you hurry this up?”

“Sorry,” you said. Your shaking hands kept missing the keyholes, but you finally got the last lock on your ankle open. The cuffs hadn’t broken skin, but your wrists and ankles were rubbed raw, ugly bruises already developing. You’d had worse.

“Alright, upsy daisy,” Buggy said, crouching down to take the key away and grab the only chain you hadn’t gotten out of—the one around your neck.

It acted as a noose, giving you no other choice but to lurch upward with an unappealing choking sound, your head spinning all over again, the weightless itch tingling all the way down to the base of your spine. You stumbled forward, unintentionally falling against him.

“Holy shit,” Buggy exclaimed, helping you stand up straight with a hand on your shoulder. “I didn’t know girls came in fun size. Legally, at least. Are you sure you’re not just like… the maxiest midget?”

“‘m dizzy,” you muttered, swaying despite his support.

“That’s not really… Ah, whatever. Hey, at least if you fall, you don’t have that far to go.”

“I’m… I’m okay,” you finally said, which was mostly true. Breathing slow, steady breaths helped, and then you shook your head a little. The bump on the back of it throbbed painfully, and you’d have bruises on your knees the size of apples, but you would survive. You were still trying to get control over your body. It was heavy and unwieldy, although part of that must have been the exhaustion.

“If you need to vomit, make sure to aim away from me,” he said. That was about all the warning you got before he decided it was time to go, dragging you along behind him like a dog on a leash.

You realized you were leaving your bandana behind, your left eye uncovered, and reared back, trying to stop him. “Wait, I have to grab my-”

“No time,” he said, talking over you and tugging again at the chain.

There was nothing you could do but stumble over your own feet to keep up with him as he led you through the cluttered and dark storage area. You felt a tiny bit of relief that you were still in the familiar decaying buildings northside. The old warehouses were dark, dank, and dingy. Easily defended and difficult to navigate, perfect for criminals to hide out in. You knew them very well, and that helped orient you.

"As I’m sure you noticed, I’m running a bit of a skeleton crew here. The rest aren’t coming ‘til the grand finale,” Buggy said, leading you into the main warehouse space by the chain around your neck like it was completely normal. The awful smell of rot and decay was only compounded by a sickly sweet, chalky scent you didn’t recognize. Gray sunshine flooded in through the broken windows around the high ceilings, piercingly bright. “And after that, we’re gonna blow this town.”

You didn’t respond, growing even more skittish. The two of you drew the attention of the people scattered around. Some were lounging, others were training. All of them turned to look at you, watching with the dark, focused stare of hungry dogs. Colorfully dressed, very dangerous dogs.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an introduction to make!” Buggy called in a loud enough voice to fill the large space. “Crew, new girl. New girl, crew. Make sure to give her a nice, warm welcome." None of them spoke or reacted, watching you with varying degrees of hostility. Buggy pulled you forward a few steps so he could whisper to you. “See that guy?” he asked, pointing to a bald man with square features and an especially dark glare. “That’s Ivo. He was the one who caught you. To be completely honest, I think he’s still a little angry that he didn't get to keep you. If I were you, I’d try to stay on his good side.”

“How?” you asked, your uneasy stomach sinking further, but Buggy was already preoccupied with something else.

“Oh, hey-” he called, flagging down a woman who was leaning against one of the steel supports. You stumbled behind him, holding the chain around your neck to ease the pressure. “Crina, I have got a very important job for you.”

The woman slowly looked from Buggy to you, giving you a weighty once-over with dark, kohl-lined eyes. Her clothes were different from the rest, draped with beads and loose and layered in shades of purple. Beneath the mystique, however, you felt the same hardness you recognized in all the pirate’s faces. “You want me to look after the little rat,” she said with an accent you didn’t recognize.

"God, it’s like you can read minds or something,” Buggy said, laughing. “Anyway, yes. Make sure she doesn’t get up to anything naughty while I’m gone. In fact, don’t let her out of your sight.”

“With all due respect,” Crina said, “why not just kill her?”

“Because I don’t want her dead,” Buggy snapped, suddenly irritated. If Crina was surprised or off put by the abrupt change of his mood, she didn’t show it.

“Of course, captain.”

“I thought I saw some cages over there,” Buggy said, gesturing vaguely and forcing the chain into Crina’s hand. “Stick her in one of those. In the back, away from any prying eyes.”

“A cage?” you asked.

“As fun as it is to see you all chained up,” Buggy said. “I worry that it might send the wrong message. Out of sight, out of mind—I don’t need you distracting my crew. They’re planning a very big surprise party. If you behave, I might be able to find some time for you later. Sound good?”

You nodded, almost surprised by how good that sounded. He ruffled your hair before turning away, barking orders to some of the men.

“Let’s go,” Crina said, pulling your attention back to her. “We have our orders.”

The cage Crina put you in, one out of several bolted to the floor in the corner out of the way from the main space, had just enough room for you to sit slouched, or lay curled on your side, meant for big dogs or small humans. There was a market for both, and you knew that this warehouse had likely housed both.

The old, dilapidated buildings had been out of use for a long time, as long as you could remember. Barley Village had been originally built to be close to the mineral deposits, but as those dried up and industry trended towards the water, southward expansion left all of the old buildings empty and rotting. There was always talk about tearing them down, but it was only ever talk. One time you were told that some people wanted to keep the buildings available to people who wished for some privacy. But when you asked your dad if that was true, he got angry, telling you that was a lie, that he would never let that happen. He said it would just be too expensive to take them down, and that there was really no point in it.

But he also told you to never, ever spend time northside. Of all of the rules he gave you, that was the only one you ever truly disobeyed. You had no idea how many times you had gotten in trouble for playing here, climbing up rusted stairs and crossing the support beams up by the ceiling, using rocks to knock out the jagged edges of broken glass from the windows so you could go onto the rooftops. Your health problems made it difficult, and sometimes impossible, but you were patient. Plus, that had been before the accident, when your coordination was still good.

Back then, you didn’t worry about the many dangers that lurked here, and you certainly didn’t believe you could be hurt. You were too entranced by the world you created for yourself. The only thing you worried about was the beatings you earned when you got caught. Dad used to tell you that if you kept disobeying him by going northside, you’d wind up locked in one of these cages—or worse. It took you a while to think of the word, because it wasn’t funny, but it also was. Ironic. It was ironic.

You couldn’t even imagine what kind of reaction he would have to what you had done now, what punishment you would earn. It would be bad. You knew it would be very bad.

Better not to think about it. Falling unconscious after being hit on the head was the most you had slept for the previous two days. It was the level of exhaustion that you could be staring down the business end of a sword with indifferent, sleepy eyes. Being locked up was bad, very bad, but you were content to lay listlessly on your side.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep because you weren’t entirely conscious when somebody kicked the front of your cage. “Hey, wake up.” Your physical response was to startle, jolting you awake enough to flinch away from the violence. But it was only Crina who crouched in front of the cage. “I have food for you. And medicine for the headache. I’m going let you out, and I suggest you don’t try to run. If the guys get a hold of you, I won’t stop them.”

“I won’t run,” you told her, your voice hoarse, your eyes fixed on what she had brought. A bowl of something that looked like stew and a bottle. More than food, you wanted water. Crina undid the lock and you shuffled out of the cage. Your head spun just as badly as it had when you dropped onto the floor earlier, your vision crawling with darkness and stomach heaving unhappily. She was right about the headache. It wasn’t a pain you ever got used to, no matter how many days you spent laid out from one. After an uneasy moment, you sat on the floor, grabbing the water and eagerly uncapping it.

“Hand,” Crina said, holding out a glass bottle. You allowed her to shake two capsules into your palm, tossing them into your mouth before taking in a blessedly wet mouthful of water. It soothed your tongue and throat like a salve, although you knew your stomach wouldn’t be quite so happy to receive anything. The stew’s scent alone made your stomach clench and churn with equal parts hunger and nausea. Slow. You had to take it slow.

“Thank you,” you told her, picking up the bowl. She’d brought a wrapped sailor’s biscuit to eat it with. Not very appetizing, but you hadn’t eaten much more than you slept. It could have been saw dust and you would have been grateful.

“I have your bag,” she said to fill the silence as you ate, pushing the limp canvas towards you. “They took anything that looked valuable, but your clothes are all there. They need to be washed. I’ll lend you something to wear in the meantime.”

Since your mouth was full, you nodded your thanks.

“While you eat, I’m going to talk. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Crina said. “You don’t strike me as the talkative type.”

She didn’t say that in an accusatory tone, but it still caused your heart to skip with anxiety. The fear had to be irrational, it wasn’t as if you had lied to Captain Buggy, so what did you have to worry about? Besides, only the guilty feared scrutiny, that was a favored line of your dad’s.

“There’s a man in town asking if anyone has seen a girl. Petite. Missing an eye. Mentally unwell. He’s concerned that she might have gotten lost somewhere,” Crina told you. “From what I gather, her father is a pillar of the community. They’re all very worried.”

You averted your gaze, anxiously pulling your hair to cover your left eye. Of course Randall would be looking for you, although you had hoped you would have more time before he noticed your absence. It didn’t matter that you left in such a way to raise as little suspicion as possible, or that you were an adult, or that you didn’t want to be found. Your dad asked him to be your keeper while he was gone, and Randall did as your father said. Everybody did.

“Finish your food,” Crina prompted. “It’s worse when it’s cold.”

Right. You started eating again, your movements mechanical. She said nothing, and you had nothing to say.

“Everybody has their reasons for turning to piracy, and they’re not always pleasant,” Crina suddenly said. “Unless it interferes with my own business, I don’t care about who you were and why you ran away. It was a stupid choice, I think you know that. I won’t try and convince you to leave. Buggy seems to like you, so you wouldn’t be able to go anyway. But you need to understand that there will be consequences. The life you had before, no matter how terrible, did not prepare you for the life you’ve thrown yourself into.”

You stared hard at the bowl, thinking about that. It was true, you had to accept that you had blindly stumbled into a world you knew nothing about. But what choice did you have? The things that led you to this point were arranged like the rusty, creaky rungs of a ladder scaling the side of a building. Climbing up had always been the easy part, it was the inevitable descent that gave you trouble. You had to go slow, one rung at a time, blindly feeling with your toes, holding on with sweaty fingers, not looking up and not looking down because once you were on the ladder, you could only keep going. The first rung was spotting the Buggy Pirates, which you only did because you were sulking around the docks after seeing your father off on his trip. You only recognized the crew because your dad kept track of pirate captains with significant bounties. You only had the courage to sneak away from your house because dad was too far away to stop you. You only had the ability to scope out Buggy’s temporary hideout because of how much time you spent northside when you were younger. Those things all connected and followed so naturally and you didn’t know if fate existed, but you knew for a fact that you wouldn’t have wound up here on your own volition. It wasn’t a choice you made, it was the only way to get down from the roof that you had been stranded on for so long.

“I’ll give you some advice,” Crina continued, her tone lighter, “and I suggest you listen. You’re young and pretty, and you wouldn’t be the first to try and use that to get an advantage. It might work for a while, but men will get bored and your looks will fade. Before long you’ll be spat out into a cheap whorehouse with a couple of children you can’t afford and a hell of a rash.”

The whiplash from your thoughts to the conclusion she had drawn made your stomach twist with disgust. “No,” you said. Was that what she thought of you? Even if the idea was utterly ridiculous, shame rolled uncomfortable through you. “I would never—I could never ever do that.”

“Don’t be naive,” Crina said, rolling her eyes. “The boys you’re used to are disgusted by that scar, but the kind of men you’ll meet from now on won’t be. If your low self-esteem dictates who you let between your legs, you’ll find yourself in the gutter. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t sleep with men to get an advantage if that’s an option, only that you must be smart about it.”

You pulled your hair forward again, shaking your head clear of what she was saying. She didn’t understand. It wasn’t the assumption that men would be repulsed by your scar—which they would be, you knew that—but that you didn’t have it in you to invite or manipulate male attention. In so many ways you were already ruined, but to stoop down to letting other men touch you would be too far, it would destroy you.

“Assuming you live past tomorrow night,” Crina continued, “get a knife and figure out how to use it. The men aren’t going to accept you as a member of the crew until you prove yourself. So if anybody gets too close, you prove yourself with blood.”

“Do you think they’ll try to hurt me?”

“I think you look like an easy target,” she said. “And I know you have no concept of self preservation or defense.”

“Yes, I do,” you said, frowning. You had made it this far, after all. That was more than anybody would have thought of you.

“You don’t,” she said plainly. “The tablets I gave you are for treating pain, but imagine if they weren’t. You didn’t so much as ask me to clarify what they were.”

You opened your mouth to argue, and closed it, shame squeezing your throat. You hadn’t even thought about that.

“It might not matter anyway,” she said, “depending on Buggy’s reasons for keeping you.”

“What do you mean?”

Crina gave you a long, pitying look and you could tell there was something she wanted to say, something she was holding back. Eventually she shrugged. “That is between the two of you.”

You wanted to push for more, confused by the cryptic answer, but you didn’t. You could tell by the hard look on her face that she wouldn’t tell you anyway.

“One more thing. The most important thing,” Crina told you, leaning close so she could whisper. “Never, ever mention the captain’s nose. In fact, never mention noses at all.”

“His nose?” you repeated softly. “Is it… is it real?”

“What did I just say?” she asked sharply. “He killed a few of the last new recruits for saying something that sounded like nose while he was in a bad mood.”

“He… killed them?” you asked.

“Buggy is a very temperamental man,” she said, leaning back. “Try not to get on his bad side.”

“It sounds like you don’t like him.”

“I do, actually. God knows why. Are you finished?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Come on then,” Crina told you, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. “There’s running water on the other side. I’ll keep watch so you can clean up.”

Although birds called and the breeze carried all sorts of noises from Barley Village, none of it really reached the northside. A solemn graveyard hush settled heavy between the wreckage of ruined buildings, drafty even in broad daylight. No ghosts hid in the shadows, no historical tragedy marred its name, but there remained the haunted imprint of people who were no longer around.

Before setting you on your task of the day, Crina had given you a dress of hers to wear while your own clothes dried in the sun. You swam in it, but a sash at the waist made the fit look somewhat intentional and the long sleeves hid the ugly bruises cuffing your wrists. That, combined with having slept the previous night and most of the day, left you feeling oddly refreshed. Sure, all of the sleep had been in a cage and the only ‘bath’ you had was a couple of minutes alone with a spout that spat freezing water and a washcloth, but it was better than yesterday. Better than the day before that too, save for the bruises and big goose egg bump on the back of your head.

Despite the headache, you were glad to be given something to do. The task wasn’t difficult. Busywork that kept you out of the way. Checking to ensure that everything which would be loaded on the ship was documented, organized, and ready for transport. It wasn’t entirely unlike what you had done in the past and, you imagined, would be doing in the future. It was, however, the opposite way around. The goods were obviously looted, you were creating a list to know exactly what and how much of it had been stolen.

Vinegar, oil, wax.

You used the end of the pen to scratch beneath your bandana, which Crina had kindly retrieved for you. Sometimes the scar got itchy, like it had when it was healing.

Twine, needles, thread.

There was a particular smell to supply crates like these. Something to do with the place they were stored, or where they were made. Even now, years since you had been on a ship, it was overwhelmingly familiar. It made your stomach ache and chest clench, although you weren’t sure which quality of the scent was so unsettling.

You scratched the scar again.

Vinegar, oil-

Wait, you had already done that. Annoyed, you crossed out those words and crouched down to get into the next crate. Rope. It was coiled in tight loops like a huge snake, coarse beneath your fingers. Anything that was strong enough to endure the fury of the sea had to be coarse. Good rope was vital on a ship, you knew that even with your limited experience. Touching it reminded you of the time your dad tried to show you how to tie knots, and then subsequently had to treat your rope burn.

What would he think when he returned? Retired Marine or not, he was deeply involved with northside business and law. Missing supplies, missing daughter. Sometimes you felt an acidic sort of pleasure when imagining his reaction to your absence, but usually it was just dread.

Or worse. Prickling paranoia. You could run, for a time. But that was all it was. Running. He used to be a Marine, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find you. When you were younger, the thought gave you comfort.

But you didn’t want to think about that. Not at all. Not ever again. You stared very hard at the rope, desperate to put those thoughts out of your mind.

You stared and stared and stared and-

Somebody grabbed you around the bicep, dragging you to your feet and forcing you back to reality. Yelping in fear, you were nearly knocked back down from the bloodrush dizziness of standing up too fast, saved only by the crates.

“Good god, girl,” the unfamiliar man said, taking a step back, clearly put off by your reaction. “Are you deaf or something? I hollered at you three or four times. Were you sleeping?”

Putting a hand to your racing heart, you looked from him to the still open crate and the notepad you had abandoned mid-task. You had no idea how long you had been sitting there. Long enough for your foot to go numb, prickling with pins and needles now that you were standing up.

“I’m sorry,” you told him.

“The captain wants to see you. It’s urgent,” he said. When you didn’t immediately respond, still orienting yourself, he sighed impatiently and grabbed your elbow, physically dragging you away. You stumbled to keep up, trying very hard to avoid falling. “If Buggy asks why you took so long, you better tell him it was your fault.”

“I will,” you said to appease him, attempting to shake off his hand before realizing that it was pointless. “Please slow down.”

“Not my fault you’ve got stumpy legs,” he said. “Keep up.”

The unfairness of that stung, but you didn’t have much choice. You had a feeling that he’d keep on pulling you along even if it meant dragging you across the ground.

“Where are we going?” you asked, embarrassingly out of breath.

“There,” he said, nodding to one of the waterfront buildings. At least it was close. You never strayed so close to the water, the buildings were too squat to make for fun exploration and too exposed to give cover.

The pirate released you when you got to the door, leaving you winded and scared. You adjusted your bandana and tried to catch your breath. “Don’t forget to tell him it was your fault it took so long, not mine,” he said, opening the door.

“I won’t,” you promised, the words papery thin on your dry tongue.

You were in trouble. You had no idea what you might have done, but there had to be something. Why would you be summoned like this otherwise? A very bad feeling pressed against your sternum, but you forced yourself to walk forward. The door shut behind you. Inside, the air was dark and cool and wet, sending a little shiver down your spine.

Buggy stood in the middle of the room, the only place where the sun found its way between the mangled teeth of glass and steel that used to be windows, his own little spotlight amidst the ruins. There were three other men on the edges of the light, their backs to you. One of them was bound. You did not like this.

“There she is!” Buggy exclaimed, inviting you forward with his arms spread wide. “Come on, don’t be shy. Especially not after keeping us waiting so long. Your friend over here could hardly handle the suspense.

Rocks and broken glass crunched beneath your feet as you approached them. Once you got close enough, finally, you could see the faces of the other men. One was the square-featured, angry man Buggy called Ivo. Another, a man you didn’t know. And the third, the one bound with a busted lip and developing black eye—

Randall called your name, trying to escape and rush to your side. Ivo grabbed him, pressing the blade of his knife against his throat.

“See, I told you, they’re working together,” Ivo said, glaring at you. “She tipped him off. No doubt this place will be swarming with the law before long.”

You stood completely still, staring at Randall with the steadily rising tide of panic sloshing in your stomach. After everything you had done to misdirect him, the note you left to beg he didn’t follow, the trouble you had put yourself through to keep from being seen, he was still here.

“Are you okay?” Randall asked, looking you up and down frantically, concerned in a way he never had looked before. “Did they hurt you?”

“I told you, she’s fine,” Buggy said with a grin. “I mean, yeah, Ivo over there did give her a little knock on the ole noggin—a love tap, really—but the eye was already like that when we found her.”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Randall said, glaring at Buggy.

“Shut up,” Ivo said, pressing the knife close enough to Randall’s throat that it broke skin.

“No, no, let him go,” Buggy ordered casually, waving his hand. “He’s not gonna do anything stupid.” He threw an arm around your shoulder. “Not when I’ve got her.”

Ivo reluctantly complied, releasing Randall. He watched you intently, and you knew what he was thinking. How could he save you?

“Ivo over there thinks that the two of you are working together,” Buggy told you, smiling. His arm was heavy around your shoulders, oppressively so. “He thinks that we should kill you both.”

“I’m not—I wouldn’t,” you told him.

“And see, I wanna believe you. I really do. But he’s not talking, and,” Buggy ran his finger over your right cheek, reminding you of his threat from yesterday, “I’m starting to worry you’ve been lying to me.”

“I’m not,” you said, ice cold dread dripping into your veins a drop at a time. You fought your discomfort and forced yourself to meet his eyes, hoping he could see your sincerity. “I promise I’m not.”

“Then how did he find this place?”

“I don’t… I don’t know…”

“She used to hide here when we were kids,” Randall answered. “I thought she ran away, not that you freaks had kidnapped her. If I had known I’d find pirates here, I would have come armed.”

“Is that true?” Buggy asked you, pulling you even closer. Close enough to be embarrassing, to give the wrong impression, especially when he was stroking your cheek with a sort of affection that didn’t mesh with the danger in his blue eyes.

“I told you it is. Let her go, clown!” Randall shouted. His voice was loud enough to echo, and harsh enough to make you wince. That sort of rage wasn’t one you expected from him, but it was familiar all the same.

“Oh, wow,” Buggy said with a laugh, looking up at him. “Is that jealousy I hear? She didn’t tell me she was leaving behind a boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said softly, your insides twisting at the thought.

“Really?” Buggy asked. He shrugged, and looked at Randall. “If you’re not doing this because you want to have sex with her, why are you here?”

“I am a dear friend—both to her and her dad,” Randall answered. “He asked me to look after her because she… She’s not in a sound state of mind. And she’s the only family he has left. Without her, he’ll have nothing.” He grit his teeth. “Take me, kill me if you’re that thirsty for blood, but let her go. Please.”

“You’re a real knight in shining armor. Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but she came here all on her own,” Buggy said, releasing you to approach him instead. “She begged to join my crew, got down on her knees and told me that she would be happy to serve me for the rest of her life. It was the most adorable thing.”

“No,” Randall said, his face twisting with disgust. “You’re lying. She wouldn’t do that.”

“Ask her yourself,” Buggy invited, stepping aside and sweeping out his arm. All eyes landed on you like a spotlight. Blood rushed in your ears, and you felt dizzy with it, ready to pass out on the spot. When you looked at Buggy, he smiled and nodded encouragingly.

“It’s true,” you said.

“No. That is impossible,” Randall said. “This is insane. You are mad, you cannot make decisions like this for yourself.” You stared at his feet, your hands balled into fists. You were not crazy. You were not. That had to be true. “Whatever hysterics brought you here, give it up. These are pirates.”

“I’m a pirate too,” you declared, your hands forming fists at your sides. You weren’t crazy, or mad. You were thinking very clearly, more than you had in a while.

“No, you are your father’s daughter,” Randall insisted, loud enough to make you flinch. “Can you imagine the agony he would feel hearing you say that?”

Your breathing was too fast, rapid enough to make your head spin. You kept shaking your head, tears flying off of your cheek, but you couldn’t recall when you had begun to cry. “I don’t care.”

“Don’t care…? This bastard has already gotten into your head,” Randall said. “He has poisoned your broken mind with his lies and manipulations, please don’t let this go any further.”

You shook your head again, but there was nothing you could think of to say. You didn’t want to talk anymore, you just wanted this to be over.

“Believe me, as much as I would love to claim otherwise, I had nothing to do with this,” Buggy said, raising his hands innocently. “You’ve got no one to blame but yourself. Think about what would drive a girl like this into the arms of a pirate. A broken heart, maybe? Was that your doing, lover boy? Did you break her heart? Make her feel like she wasn’t good enough?”

“Keep your big goddamned nose out of our business, clown,” Randall said.

The other pirates audibly gasped, and you could feel the sudden zap of tension in the air. Buggy’s taunting smile froze in place, his posture icing over like a statue. And then, a second later, he was rushing at Randall, burying his fist in the other man’s stomach. Randall crumpled onto his knees with a heavy grunt and you waited for something else, something worse. Crina said that Buggy had killed over jokes about his nose, and, right then, you believed it.

Nothing happened. You watched, frozen, as Buggy breathed in deeply, his shoulders rising and falling with it, and then he raised a hand.

“New girl,” he called, snapping to beckon you closer. You obliged, rushing to his side. He didn’t look angry, not like you feared he would. Instead, he smiled. It was a mean smile, a frightening one. But a smile all the same. “Are you ready for your big moment?”

“What?”

“Your audition! I thought of the perfect act for you. Kill him.”

You looked down at Randall, he was clearly still in pain, his eyes watering as he looked up at you. “I can’t,” you whispered, shaking your head again.

“You can and will. Assuming you want to remain on my crew. Otherwise I’ll kill him and you’ll have to explain to daddy why prince charming was here in the first place.” He held out his hand towards Ivo. “Knife.” When he got it, Buggy flipped the knife handle first, holding it to you with a flourish. “You’re up, babydoll.”

“She won’t do it, clown,” Randall said through grit teeth.

“Of course she will,” Buggy said. “For me.”

As if moving through the dusky haze of a dream, you took the knife, wrapping your sweaty hand around the grip. The way Buggy smiled in response made your heart flutter, something to cling to amidst the horror and disgust. It didn’t feel real anymore. How could it be real?

“I don’t know what to do.” Were those your words? Your voice?

Buggy laughed. “Of course you don’t,” he said, circling behind Randall. “C’mere, I’ll help you.”

Randall was shouting and pleading, but Buggy had grabbed a fistfull of his hair to keep him from escaping.

“You’ve gotta hold him still,” Buggy told you. “Like this, see?”

“-don’t do this, please. You can’t… I love you!”

You got a fistful of Randall’s hair, making him cry out in pain. There was no pleasure in the sound, only a roiling sense of disgust. It would be better when he was dead, and then he wouldn’t be in pain.

“God you’re short,” Buggy said as he adjusted you into place, right between him and Randall. “You’ll be better off going for their ankles.” He wrapped his hand around yours, getting a good grip on the knife and holding it still.

“-when he gets bored of fucking you. That’s all pirates do, rape and murder. You’ll never be one of them, you’ll just-”

“Start on one side and move to the other, easy as that,” Buggy said comfortingly, resting his chin against the side of your head.

“-he doesn’t kill you, your dad will. Do you really think you’ll ever be able to hide from him?”

Moving slowly, through a dream, you put the knife on the left side of Randall’s neck. It was no different from what a butcher did, really.

Breath in. Pull. You instinctively locked up at the sound of Randall’s screams and the resistance of his flesh, but Buggy forced your hand, pulling the blade deep into his neck and then fast to the side. The knife got caught part way through, stuck in something hard. You tried to saw through it and Randall made an inhuman noise of agony. Buggy had to help you unstick it, to follow through until the knife slashed that horrifying scream short and then there was just a sort of gurgling sound and you didn’t know if it was because he was still alive or if it was an automatic process.

There was so much blood, and it was hot, burning you. For some reason, you hadn’t anticipated the messy scarlet spray. From the deep slice came more blood. More, and more still. Randall’s heavy, limp body dropped onto the floor into a puddle of it, although you weren’t sure when you let go of his hair. Buggy released your hand, but you didn’t drop the knife, holding it in a death grip as blood streamed like red veins down your hand and wrist, down the blade and all the way to its tip before dripping to the dirty floor. The tang of iron filled your lungs. You shook all over, all the way down inside, your bones and organs shivering. It was your heart. It pounded frantically, like butterfly wings. And your breathing. Wheezing, gasping, gurgling like Randall’s had before he fell.

Your mouth opened to exhale, but there was nothing there. No air, no words. Nothing. Your cold gaze turned to look at Buggy, confused as to what you were supposed to do next. He had led you this far, but now you were lost. He smiled, and laughed, and took the knife away from you, tossing it to the side where it clanged and slid away.

And then he folded you into his arms, your head pressed against his chest. His heartbeat was firm and steady, and he was so warm. He smelled of gunpowder and salty sea air and greasepaint and the natural warm scent of his skin. You clung to that, breathing in deep to excise the scent of blood.

“Congratulations, babydoll,” Buggy told you. “Looks like you just got the part.”

The first firecracker went off not long after the sun had gone down, kicking off the surprise party with an especially loud zip and then a bang and a bursting sizzle. “It’s a surprise party,” Buggy told you, his face illuminated by the flash of red. “As in, the people who live here are going to be so surprised by the party I’m throwing for my crew. Get it?”

A chain of firecrackers followed the first, a show that the pirates set off amidst a barrage of explosions, lighting up the sky with brilliant colors and smoke, making the earth tremble beneath your feet. They acted as distraction and lure, drawing people further into the town and inviting the ship that had been lurking nearby to enter the harbor.

And after that came the chaos.

Many things happened that you were aware of, if only passively. Leaving the northside and then Barley Village, waiting at the dock, and then boarding the ship as men and women in colorful attire flooded the yard, overtaking the few armed guards. You were told to sit on the deck and wait, so you did. Aware of it all—noxious sulfur and smoke filling the air, thunderous claps of explosives, popping gunshots, screaming voices, roaring fires—but uninvolved. There was a sense of great quiet. Not outside where things were loud and violent and scary, but inside. You were very quiet on the inside. Far away from everything and everyone else.

Blood flaked off of your skin, caking beneath the nails when you scratched your arm. It would have been nice to wash it off, but you didn’t know where you would go for that, and you didn’t want to get up.

“Yoo-hoo, is anybody in there?”

A gloved hand waved in front of your face.

You let out a hoarse scream, nearly tipping backwards from how violently you startled. It didn’t take long for you to realize how overblown the reaction was, Buggy’s laughter made the point quite clearly.

“What was that?” he asked, almost laughing too hard to get the words out. He stood above you without his coat and hat, although he kept the striped headscarf, and a bottle tucked under his arm.

“You scared me,” you told him, a hand on your racing heart.

“That noise you just made though,” he said, still laughing. “It sounded like one of those scream-y fireworks.”

“I didn’t know you were there.”

“Your fault, not mine. I was trying to talk to you, but you just sat there. I thought it was your eye that didn’t work, not your ears.”

“I guess I… zoned out a little.”

“No shit. Ah, that was good,” Buggy said as his laughter subsided. “I had no idea human beings could even make sounds like that.” Letting out a big breath to settle himself, he sat down next to you. Very close, far closer than you would have, almost touching. “Kinda makes me wonder what other kinds of sounds you can make.”

“I know, it’s annoying,” you said, staring hard at the deck. “I’m sorry.”

Buggy laughed at that too, shaking his head. “You really have no clue, do you?” he asked. “Is it weird that I’m into it?”

“Into what?” you asked. “I’m sorry, I… don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t, and that’s okay,” he said with a mocking sort of indulgence, patting your head. “Anyway, I had a little business in town and snagged this from some rich guy’s house.” He held up a bottle by the neck and swished its contents a little for effect. “We’re going to celebrate.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be out there?” you asked, the first coherent question that came to your mind as it scrambled to make sense of what he had just said.

“Between you and me, this,” Buggy said with a confidential hush, gesturing to your burning town, “isn’t my thing. It’s a reward for my freaks, gives ‘em an outlet to express themselves artistically. I prefer a more… performative platform. True art deserves a spotlight and an audience.” He waved that away, smiling. “But this isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

“Me?”

“You really impressed me earlier. I mean, yeah, your technique needs polish, and you’ve got no stage presence to speak of, but you displayed raw talent. I really think you have a shot at success, sweetheart. Stick with me, and I’ll make something out of you yet.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, shying away from thinking about earlier. The praise though, that was heady. That made you feel warm.

Buggy popped the cork off the bottle, taking a drink straight from it and smacking his lips appreciatively. “You like sweet things, right?”

“I-”

“You’ll love this then. Here, try it.”

You eyed the bottle he was proffering to you warily. Alcohol was something you were familiar with, but you could count on your fingers the number of times you had actually tasted it. “I don’t know…” you said, trying to think of ways to reject drinking without seeming ungrateful.

“You’re a pirate now, so you’ve gotta learn to drink like one,” Buggy told you, pushing it into your hand. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You sniffed the open lip, surprised by the sweetness. It didn’t smell as strongly of alcohol as you feared. Not like what your father drank. Maybe it would be okay. Trying to avoid embarrassing yourself, you tipped the bottle back just like he had. That was a mistake. It didn’t smell like alcohol, but you could taste it—feel it, even. Panicked by your body’s natural response to expel it, you swallowed as much as you could, coughing out the rest. Red liquid drooled down your chin, staining the dress that was already ruined with dried blood. Buggy laughed. A little at first, and then a lot.

Flushing, you wiped your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be like that. That was hilarious,” Buggy told you. You looked away, even more embarrassed. “Your face was priceless. You threw that back with the confidence of a real fire-hazard, saggy skinned, dead eyed alcoholic. You were so serious about it too, and then… Good lord.”

“I didn’t know!” you said, trying and failing not to sound shrill.

“It’s okay, you’ve got me to help you now. Try it again, but don’t be so greedy. Baby sips.”

“No, thank you,” you said, holding the bottle back to him.

“Drink. That’s an order,” he said, pushing it back to you.

That gave you pause. “Do you mean that?” you asked.

He nodded, urging you on.

Your shoulders drooped in defeat. Trepidatiously, you took a small sip. At least you didn’t hack it back up this time. While the taste was sweet, the burn was not. It rose up like smoke into your head, you could feel it.

“What if I get drunk?” you asked.

“Oh, you’re going to get drunk, captain’s orders,” Buggy said with a grin. “I can’t stand watching you sit around moping about killing that guy. Besides, you’re a pirate now.”

The little ball of anxiety deep in your gut doubled. This was wrong, you knew it was. Or maybe you were wrong, and Buggy was right. You didn’t know.

“I don’t want to embarrass myself,” you muttered.

“As long as you don’t jump into the water or shit yourself, you’ll be fine…” You looked at him, horrified. “Joking! C’mon, I’ve taken good care of you so far, haven’t I? You’ll be fine.”

The way he laughed made you want to believe him. He was your captain now. You nodded seriously and, steeling yourself, took another drink. And another.

“See? It’s good, right?” Buggy asked, holding out his hand for the bottle.

You licked your lips, cleaning up the lingering sweetness. “It is. Thank you,” you said, unable to keep yourself from admiring the way his throat worked as he swallowed, the view unfortunately obscured by his cravat.

The perverse thought took you by surprise. Was it the alcohol? Already, your head was spinning, your thoughts a little more disorganized. It wasn’t like the quiet, empty feeling of before. It was warm and distant, it made your shoulders relax, the anxiety and uncertainty of before fading. This was a good idea, you already felt so much better. When he passed the bottle back, you didn’t have to be prompted to imbibe, chasing that feeling.

“I don’t mean to pry, but when that guy back there mentioned your dad, it really seemed to get to you,” Buggy said. “What, did daddy not love you? Or maybe he loved you a little too much.”

You didn’t want to talk about that. You didn’t want to think about it. You took another big drink.

On the horizon, the town was utterly ablaze. As the night grew darker, the flames rose higher. Which building was burning so brightly? It belched thick, black smoke into the night sky. Who was in it? Anybody you knew?

“Don’t wanna talk about it, hm? That’s fine,” Buggy said, stealing the bottle back. “With any luck, my freaks’ll kill him tonight, eh? Then you’ll really be free.”

“He’s gone right now,” you said, your words soft and slurring together. “Out of town.” What would he think of the smoldering ashes? Would he believe you had perished in the flame? Somehow, you doubted that. He would know what you had done. There was no chance of freedom, not for you.

“That’s even better,” Buggy said.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned to him, both in confusion and disbelief. “How?”

“Because, babydoll,” Buggy told you, shaking your shoulder to make sure you were paying attention. “It’s good to have somebody to hate—somebody to prove wrong. He tried to convince you that you’re crazy, he tried to keep you from ever being yourself. That pain and anger made you weak. But you’re not weak anymore. Tonight, I showed you how to be strong. It’s not enough to tell those assholes that they’re wrong, you have to prove it to them. That’s what tonight was about, right? You proved to your dad, to everybody, that you’re stronger than they thought. And, hey, you proved it to me, too. I wasn’t sure about you at first, but I changed my mind.” He threw an arm around you, pulling you close. “I like you, kiddo. A lot.”

“I like you too,” you said, relaxing into the little side hug, very aware of every place his bare arm met your bare shoulders and neck. The alcohol had stoked a nice blaze in your stomach and chest, making your head spin in a way you didn’t mind that much. Smoothing the colors, softening the air, making you want to lean into his touch, made you crave more of it.

Buggy pulled away, leaving the bottle in your hands. You felt a little cold without him.

“You know,” he said, smiling at you. The far off flames glinted mischievously in his eyes. The flaring reds and oranges highlighted his cheekbones too, defined the sharpness of his jaw. You were caught off guard by how viscerally you reacted to the thought that he was handsome, your filterless mind caught in an endless loop of focusing on the fact. “Burning down this shithole is nothing compared to what I will do. The towns I’ll raze to the ground, the treasure I’ll steal, the shows I’ll put on. Now that I’ve got a crew, I’m gonna put on a show like nobody’s ever seen. The biggest, flashiest, greatest show ever. Everybody will be screaming my name, recognize my face. I’ll shine so bright that they’ll have no choice but to love me. ”

Buggy’s intensity made you smile, you couldn’t help it. Alcohol had created a cloudy burst of affection within you, or maybe it was just the floodgates of tension finally collapsing, letting out something that would have otherwise been smothered. Either way, it was as intoxicating as the drink itself.

“Are you laughing at me?” Buggy asked, his tone filled with steel. You looked to see his dark expression, his narrowed eyes.

“I’m not,” you said, confused by his rapid shift in demeanor. “I’m… I’m happy. I’ll do anything to help you.”

He relaxed. “Well, you’d better start working on your act.”

That made you laugh, a dizzy, bubbly sound. “I can’t do an act. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“There has to be something. Let me think… Can you sing?”

“I used to, a little. But not for a really long time.”

“Come on, let me hear it.”

You were drunk, you knew that for a fact because in no state of sobriety would you offer to sing in front of another person. But, right then, bubbling with alcohol and protected by the darkness of the smoky night sky, you felt invincible.

“Oh, what do you do with a drunken sailor? What do you do with a drunken sailor? What do you do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning? Slash his…um… something, something, captain’s daughter. Toss him in… to… the dirty water…” Whatever coherence you held onto unraveled into a fit of drunken laughter at the awful rhyme. “I’m sorry, I think… I think I forgot some of the words.”

“Seems like you forgot the tune too,” Buggy said, wincing dramatically. All that did was make you laugh harder. “Hold on a second, let me wipe the blood out of my ears.”

You swatted his shoulder, although your attempted indignance probably wasn’t very convincing when you were still smiling. “Don’t be mean!”

“That’s a bold way to treat your captain,” he told you, but he was smiling too.

“Please don’t be mean to me, Captain Buggy,” you said, speaking slowly to emphasize how serious you were.

“Beg me again.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, waving it off in a way that made you think he was making fun of you. “Anyway, I’m being nice right now, especially after that performance. The critics would eat you alive for that one. So, singing is out. Clearly. What else have you got?”

“Oh! I know a, um, a rhyme. A joke.”

He looked at you skeptically. “Really?”

“What is that s’posed to mean?” you asked.

“You don’t strike me as somebody with… How should I put this… A sense of humor?”

You frowned.

“Alright, alright, quit pouting and tell me,” Buggy said impatiently, waving you to continue.

You cleared your throat very theatrically, sitting up as straight as you could manage.

“There was a young lass who thought

Very little but thought it a lot.

Then at long last she knew

What she wanted to do,

But before she could start, she forgot.”

Deflating, you laughed, surprised at how clearly you had delivered the words. Especially considering how long it had been since you heard them.

Buggy didn’t look nearly as impressed. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a clean limerick before,” he said. “And now I know why. I mean, what’s the point of limerick without the ick.”

You blew a raspberry at him. “Fine, you do one.”

“Okay, but you have to prepare yourself,” Buggy said. You nodded encouragingly.

“There was a young plumber named Lee

Who was plumbing his girl by the sea.

She said, ‘Stop your plumbing,

There's somebody coming’

Said the plumber, still plumbing, ‘It's me.’"

Belatedly, you gasped, your hands covering your mouth. That shock dissolved into giggles. “That’s, oh, that’s… that’s dirty.”

“Aw, was it too much for your delicate sensibilities? Now that you’re a pirate, you’re gonna hear a lot worse than that. A looooooooot worse. I hope your unspoiled ears can handle it.”

“I can!” you insisted, taking a big drink to steel yourself before setting the bottle aside. If you were going to be a pirate, you had to stop getting so flustered. “More. Please.”

“Okay, okay…” Buggy cleared his throat. “A hooker roaming the East Blue,

Once filled her vagina with glue,

She said, with a grin, ‘Well, they paid to get in,

And they’ll damn sure pay to get out, too.’”

You laughed loudly, as much at the joke as the taboo nature of it. You laughed, and then giggled in a bubbly, drunken way that you knew was too loud and embarrassing. “That is icky,” you told him. “Jeez, that’s…” Your faux seriousness dissolved into a fit of giggles again and you leaned against him for stability. “What would you even do?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. It sounds like a sticky situation,” he said, nudging you with his elbow. That, of course, sent you into another fit of giggles.

“I’m sorry, I’m…” you said. “I think I’m drunk.” You looked behind yourself at the town, the glittery haze of joy buzzing in your head fading at the sight. It was horrific, wasn’t it? And here you were, laughing like a fool. You couldn’t really comprehend the magnitude of it all, even if you could acknowledge that it was terrible. “Is it okay?” you asked, looking back at him imploringly. “Everything that happened tonight… I thought I would feel very different after, but I don’t. It almost feels like it’s not even real. You ever get that? When things happen but they feel so impossible that you get confused?”

“If you can think that clearly,” Buggy said, “then you’re not drunk enough. Bottoms up, babydoll.” You smiled at his use of the pet name and the fluttery feeling it gave you. What else could you do but oblige, tipping the bottle back like before. Only, unlike before, you kept it all down. There wasn’t any real burn, just more sweetness, more warmth.

And then there was nothing left.

“Woah,” you said, lowering the empty bottle and wiping your mouth. “‘s all gone.”

“And how do you feel?” he asked.

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a dizzy sort of laugh. “I dunno…” you said, closing your eye, trying to collect your thoughts. “I’m…” Already things were getting even more fuzzy and foggy. Fabric stuck to your flushed skin, the salty air drying across your chest and cheeks. “I feel… very…”

Making an upset noise in the back of your throat, you pushed your hair back, catching the bandana and pulling it off so you could feel the breeze on your whole face. That helped. Drawing in a deep breath, you looked at him, trying to focus. Only, the second you saw him, all you could do was smile. His eyes were greedy about the light, sparkling with it. Even with the nose, Buggy was handsome. That was not something you could tell him though, not at all ever. Unfortunately you had forgotten what you were saying in the first place.

“Very… what?” Buggy asked. “‘Cause if you keep trying to be a buzzkill, I’ll give you something to laugh about.”

Were you a buzzkill? You couldn’t remember what you had said or done to earn that title. It was hard enough to comprehend what was happening in the moment. “Like what?” you asked.

“Like… this!” Buggy said, using the sash around your waist to pull you closer so he could tickle your sides. You jumped and squealed, the bottle rolling out of your hands as you tried to fight him off.

“No no no, don’t,” you cried, trying to escape. You were being too loud, moving too much, acting like an idiot, but you didn’t have enough control to stop.

“Why not?” he asked. “You’re laughing, aren��t you?”

It was true, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, letting it out in panicked little bursts. Time had a bizarre elasticity to it, everything hitting you at once and fading just as fast. Laughing, sobbing, begging him to stop. It was easy to catch and hold onto one of his hands, but that left the other one free. And if you tried to catch that one instead, you had to release the first. There must have been a better way to do it, but you felt as if, bit by bit, particle by particle, the world was separating, the hot and humid air splitting, your limbs becoming loose, your capacity for rational thought dissipating like mist.

Lacking any sort of control and with a completely undeserved sense of invulnerability, you tackled him. Buggy let it happen, still laughing. At least he had stopped.

“God, it’s like being attacked by a drunk, one-eyed toddler,” he said. “What are you gonna do, whine me into submission?”

“Don’t be mean,” you said seriously, your words ruined by something wavering between a laugh and a sob, or maybe it was just the drunken slur.

“You attacked me. If anything, I'm the victim here.”

“No! You started it!”

“Hold on, are you… crying?” Buggy asked incredulously. “Aw, you poor thing. I mean, you were laughing so much, how could I have known you didn’t like it?”

“I don’t!” you insisted.

“To be clear,” he said. “You don’t like this?” He attacked your sides, not tickling so much as just teasing, but to the same effect. You yelped and sat up squirm away, swatting at his hands.

Rather than laugh like before, Buggy groaned, his hips bucking up against you. A loud, harsh gasp left your mouth, your entire body going rigid from the liquid heat of friction, your thighs squeezing around him. At some point, your skirt had ridden up, your panties being the only barrier left. You didn’t think you had ever been as acutely aware of how achingly empty, electrically tingly, as you were right then.

Bad. Very bad.

“Oh, there’s another fun noise,” Buggy said, laughing as he propped himself upright with his arms. “I can’t believe that got you.”

“No,” you said quickly, dizzy from the intensity of your reaction and how close the two of you were. You could smell him, the sweat, the musk, the salt, the greasepaint, the gunpowder. You could see the glitter in his makeup, the fire catching in his eyes. “It jus’... surprised me.”

“Is that why you’re shaking?” Buggy asked, rubbing your exposed thigh, the fabric of his glove catching the sensitive skin.

“I’m… um…” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to organize the drunken slush of your brain. Being so close to him, feeling his body against yours, sent deviously tantalizing tingling sparks through you. And guilt. It was wrong, he wasn’t doing anything to invite those feelings, you were just being weird and drunk and embarrassing and you couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. You’d have to tilt your head a lot, although the stubble would be more hazardous than his nose. The last time you kissed someone, you were both young enough that you didn’t have to navigate facial hair. And then there was the matter of the makeup. You tried to imagine what you might look like after, the slash of red and imprint of white. Maybe they’d mix into pink. You tried to force yourself to focus on something else, but you couldn’t meet his eyes either. Nervous and confused and filled with a million different feelings you had no name for, you squirmed again, thoughtlessly adding to the anxious feedback loop of heat and need and intoxicated emptiness.

“You know, sweetheart, this reminds me,” Buggy said, “there’s still the matter of your physical. It’s standard procedure for new crew. We could get that over and done with while you’re… lubricated.”

“What’re you… talking about?”

“I’ve gotta make sure you’re fit, healthy… Clean of anything you could pass on to the forty or so people you’re gonna be stuck with in an enclosed space for weeks at a time.”

“How d’you do that?”

“You’ve been to a doctor, right? It’s kinda like that. I know it can feel a little invasive, so it might be better to do it while you’re drunk.”

“What…” you started to ask, but then Buggy shifted, his hips pushing up against you. The fresh wash of warmth it sent into your core scattered your mind, and you lost the already tenuous thread of thought. Your eyelashes fluttered, although you weren’t sure when you had closed your eye. “Umm…”

“Well, first,” he said, answering the question you hadn’t asked, “you’d have to take off your clothes. Then relax while I have a little look-see. It’s important that you stay as still as possible. I’ll have a hard time finishing if you can’t stop squirming around the whole time.”

“Do you really have to?” you asked, your brow furrowing. It sounded embarrassing. But maybe if it was him, you didn’t mind? Your dad did all of your past medical check-ups so it wasn’t inherently wrong. But the thought of Buggy seeing you without clothes wasn’t exactly nice, you could only imagine his disgust. That was bad.

“Depends on if you’re serious about being a pirate or not,” Buggy said.

“I am serious!” you exclaimed. Your hands went to the sash around your waist to pull the bow free. If you did it quickly, you wouldn’t be as embarrassed.

“Woah, wait. Holy shit,” Buggy said, “are you seriously—” He cracked up laughing, making you freeze. “I didn’t think you’d actually fall for that.”

“You’re… laughing,” you said, your fingers falling with the slow sink of humiliation.

“You really were going to strip for me, out in the open and everything.” Buggy laughed harder, rocking forward. “I didn’t expect you to be so eager. Hey, if you really wanna get naked, I’m not going to stop you.”

“I don’t, I just… I thought…” you said, pulling away from him and trying to get onto your feet to get away, embarrassment lighting the worst sort of fire within you.

“Woah, calm down, it was just a joke,” Buggy said, his laughter fading. “You’re absolutely plastered, if you stand up, you’re gonna fall right back down.” You didn’t stop, resolute to get onto your feet and put some distance between you and him. “I won’t catch you.”

“’m fine,” you told him.

You finally got your footing and braced against your knee to lurch upright. For a second, you were standing up and weightless. And then you were nothing.

#opla buggy #opla buggy x reader #opla x reader #buggy x reader #my writing #one piece live action #buggy the clown #buggy the genius jester #buggy the flashy fool #lmao all of those come up when you type buggy that's cute #flashbang

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beigepillow · 6 months ago

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Yashiro And Doumeki: Chapter 58

With this chapter, I think a lot of us are feeling very bad for Yashiro. He seems so hurt by what Doumeki is doing. Typically, I make posts trying to defend Doumeki or look at things from his pov but I wanted to try to take into account both of their feelings and thought processes for this chapter because honestly I think they’re both feeling terrible about this whole fuckbuddy situation. Side note: I know some people don’t like the word fuckbuddy for their situation but Idk how else to refer to it. They’re not together but I know they’re in love and my use of the word fuckbuddy isn’t intended to diminish their relationship in any way.

I’ll start with my thoughts on Doumeki. There is a reason I make sure to emphasize that a lot of our analysis on Doumeki is based on interpretation and not necessarily how he really feels. If you have the opinion that Doumeki is planning and making moves with the endgoal of being with Yashiro, this whole situation where he has sex with Yashiro and leaves makes him look like a real asshole. I think it is easier to think that Doumeki is doing okay because he doesn’t really express that he is not. Compared to Yashiro, he seems better adjusted and since we don’t see his thoughts it is easier to assume he is less affected by all of this than Yashiro is. But I think we need to recall what Yashiro used to tell Doumeki. He used to say that he doesn’t think he can have romantic relationships and that he is only interested in sex. Doumeki seems to have taken that to heart as well as the fact that he doesn’t know that Yashiro has moved on from Kage and is no longer in love with him. Doumeki seems to think that Yashiro didn’t value the moments they had outside of sex because honestly that hasn’t been shown to him. I think we can sometimes underestimate the amount of pain he went through when Yashiro kicked him out. I think Doumeki is having sex with Yashiro because he wants to have some kind of a relationship with him and he is also HOPING that having sex with him will keep Yashiro from seeking out sex with others partly due to jealousy and partly to keep Yashiro safe since sex is a self destructive behavior for him. I emphasize hoping because he is not forcing Yashiro to be with him nor is he constantly hovering around to make sure that he doesn’t go to Inami or anyone else. He is giving Yashiro space while trying to satisfy something Yashiro claims he needs. The emphasis has always been on Yashiro’s pleasure because Doumeki still has his own issues on sex. Doumeki doesn’t want just sex but he feels that he has no other option. He also seems to be repeating the behavior of leaving because that is what he seems to think Yashiro wants based on volume 5.

As for Yashiro, we can see that he is deeply affected and saddened by this change in their dynamic. But when looking at the conversation of Yashiro’s flashback, I think he feels betrayed as well. The last page is amazingly done with the rain almost symbolizing his tears but his mouth seemed both angry and sad to me. I shared the page of Doumeki answering Yashiro and letting him know that Yashiro was different from others because it stands out to me more in comparison to the moment where Yashiro rips off the bandaid. Doumeki told him he was special but then seemingly is with Izumi and treating Yashiro like everyone else does? Doumeki’s words must feel like a lie. I think this feels different from Kage’s rejection not just because he loves Doumeki more but because Doumeki made him feel special only for him to act like he didn’t mean any of it. It isn’t very rational of Yashiro considering everything but both get blinded by emotion. At the end of the day, they’re both very hurt and acting in ways they think the other wants but it is important to keep in mind that both agreed to this kind of relationship. I feel that Yashiro will end up giving in but I also think he has a separate journey to go through before he can be truly with Doumeki that I may write about in a separate post.

#saezuru tori wa habatakanai #saezuru

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lyinginbedmon · 2 years ago

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Oh lordy is there bad things going down across the VTuber space right now so I’m gonna try and unpack them for ease of comprehension.

Real quick: A VTuber is essentially just a regular livestreamer but instead of a facecam they have a custom model (usually made of layered images but also often a full 3D object) that tracks their face and such. Big tiddy anime girl representation to say the least but it’s a very creative space.

Next: Silvervale, Silver for short. Silver is one such big tiddy anime (wolf) girl, who is part of a corporate group of VTubers called VShojo. I probably don’t need to describe much more for the purposes of this post.

Hogwarts Legacy is a video game based in the bigotry-entrenched universe of the Harry Potter franchise by notorious face-of-transphobia Joanne K. Rowling. Since its announcement in 2018, trans individuals and groups have quite rightly highlighted numerous ethical and moral problems with the game ranging from the inherent bigotry of the setting, to the involvement of literal far-right YouTubers in its development, to just the basic stuff like its success greenlighting further instalments all while Rowling pockets royalties to (expressly) further fund her anti-trans projects (which includes her writing Literally being read into record to quash things like the Equality Act).

The general advice, which would be true regardless of your actual thoughts on the game or franchise, was to just not play it. That way Rowling makes less money, fewer future games are made, and nobody gets hurt as a result. You end your day $60 better off that you can spend on some other big game that isn’t basically radioactive.

To say the Video Gamers did not take that advice well would be an understatement, but things get really ugly when a streamer who otherwise professes to creating a calm and friendly atmosphere, who makes claims to being an ally, gives in and plays the Wizard Game. I’m not going to say that people haven’t been harassed for playing it, almost certainly someone has, but I just don’t have the data to be certain that it goes much further than just posting “trans rights” in chat.

Enter Silvervale. Despite half a decade of advance warning that she shouldn’t play this game, she played it anyway. Live on camera. The community she’d fostered for years didn’t take this well either, and the stream ended early amid purported harassment from the chat. Silver wasn’t the first VTuber to play the Wizard Game, but she was one of the first English-speaking ones.

Things could have just quietly ended there, but Silver then returned to streaming with more of the game and a statement that she had been “harassed” by “freaks and degenerates” on Twitter. Not her best choice of words, but the damage was done.

Because of the 5-year leadup to the Wizard Game releasing, the right-wing mob had already noticed the controversy around it and had made Huge investments into buying and promoting the game as well as spewing vitriol against anyone who even slightly suggested that doing so was in poor taste. They naturally then flocked to Silver’s defense and, following her unfortunate description of “marginalised people making their discomfort known as they had declared they would Years in advance” using language straight from 1930s Germany, started directly attacking any streamer who voiced their intent not to play the game however detailed their reasoning.

As a brief aside, there’s some confusion over how Silver’s chat moderation is set up, seemingly blocking such phrases as “trans rights are human rights”. Some say it’s an overzealous automod, others that her moderators are actually blocking the phrases, it’s unclear and not hugely worth focusing on here. But I mention it because it’s one of the common points made as people state their side on this issue.

This has essentially made Silver the face of transphobic bigotry in the VTuber community, whether or not she actually considers herself aligned with such bigots. Multiple smaller and independent trans VTubers have completely stopped streaming because of the bile being spewed at them by people with the likes of #IStandWithSilver in their bios. The overlaps between accounts on social media posting in her defense and numerous far-right hate movements is as undeniable as it is unpleasant to catalogue.

And boy that’s just the foundation of this whole sorry affair.

Another VTuber who is part of the same company as Silver, VShojo, is Apricot (more commonly called Froot). Froot not only decided to vocally not play the Wizard Game, but to post a tweet saying that she would personally donate to UK trans children’s charity Mermaids for every like the tweet received. She added that her brother is trans and she supports him immensely.

So the bigots that leapt to Silver’s defense very predictably started calling Froot a paedophile and child groomer, which is more or less what they label every pro-trans individual ever these days. Froot had to lock replies on her charity post and her post about her brother as a result, though the tweets remain up.

Most recently, a third peer in VShojo called Ironmouse came to Silver’s defense specifically in opposition to the alleged harassment she received which, again, anyone could have seen coming in the last 5 years by googling the Steam page for this game.

And honestly, at this point, whatever actually happened to Silver in that first stream is completely irrelevant because she’s become the rallying cry of people who actively want to exterminate the entire trans community from cradle to grave and literally beyond. And so much of it could be resolved or at least get the wind out of its sails if she took 5 minutes to just apologise for and disavow everything that happened in her name after she decided to keep playing the Wizard Game.

But, and I say this with no disrespect to Silver, I’m not holding my breath.

#long post #vshojo #vtubers #drama #wizard game #I've been trying not to just constantly talk about this issue #but the disk horse just keeps getting WORSE

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 2 months ago

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I've been in the fandom for a while. I personally think Kataang getting together after the EIP kiss without any resolution wasn't a good writing choice. I think many women HAVE been in a situation where they've been kissed like that, so they automatically dislike it.

I get why people would be turned off from Kataang after the EIP kiss. What I absolutely don't get is how people think Zuko is a better romantic partner. Did they see how Zuko treated Mai in The Beach?

That's what baffles me. Shippers will say Aang's entitlement in kissing Katara without her consent turned them off Kataang. I can understand that. But the same Zutara shippers all laud Zuko as a amazing bf, despite the fact that he:

accused Mai of cheating without any evidence

Accuses Mai of being passionless, hurting her

punches a guy and destroys his property for no reason

tells Mai that his abuse is more important than her feelings

Snidely tells Ma, "where's your new bf"

Never apologises to her for acting that way

Why is there such a cognitive dissonance, do you think? Shouldn't these shippers be turned off Zuko as a bf? Even in the last episode, Zuko starts shooting flames at Aang to "teach him a lesson", clearly showing he still wants to solve his problems with violence.

Why do the same shippers (mostly women) who hate Aang for EIP, love Zuko?

Okay, a few corrections:

1 - Aang didn't kiss Katara out of entitlement. He misjudged the moment. They were talking about feelings and Katara said both "I don't see you as just a friend" and "I don't think we should date right now." Aang, a 12-year-old, was confused by that, thought he could make things clearer by kissing her since they've both enjoyed the two previous times they kissed. That was a really bad move, upset Katara, and he kicked himself for it. Would an apology be nice? Yes. Was this a forced conflict for cheap drama? Yes. But it's not the same as Aang grabbing Katara and forcing a kiss on her while she's struggling to get away from him and telling him "NO" loud and clear.

2 - While Mai did nothing wrong and looked bored as hell whenever that guy came up to her, he WAS into her and disregarding the fact that she had a boyfriend. That's a dick move, and even though Zuko should not have escalated things to physical violence, nor blamed his girlfriend, he had every right to be mad at that guy.

3 - Zuko absolutely did NOT say that his abuse was more important than Mai's feelings. They're arguing about his behavior and how he's more irritable and impatient than usual, to which Zuko reminds her of the obvious fact that it's kinda hard to NOT be like that every now and then considering what he went through - to which Mai reminds him that it being understandable doesn't make it okay, and Zuko eventually admits that the REAL source of his anger is the fact that he no longer knows what right and wrong mean to him anymore and that's stressing him the fuck out. VERY different from "My life sucked, I get to make it your problem"

4 - While Zuko did not apologize for how he acted, we see in the following episodes that he is being a good boyfriend to Mai and he explicitly tells the Gaang that he doesn't want to keep relying on anger anymore. Apologies are nice and can be very important, but an actual change in behavior is what makes it mean anything.

5 - I do feel that the moment of Zuko attacking the Gaang in the finale to "make them take the war seriously" was very forced, but even if I were to take it as just Zuko being Zuko - by the end of the story he's clearly happy that Aang managed to solve things without violence, is proud of him for it, and even says that he believes OZAI could maybe change into a better person someday. If that isn't growth I don't know what is.

As for your actual question: They don't actually hate Aang and love Zuko for anything they did/did not do. They just think Zuko is hot, thought the show would pander to them with zutara, and when it didnt they lashed out and used pseudo-feminist points to go "Aang bad, Zuko good" to cover up a childish tantrum.

#anti zutara #pro kataang

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ilikekidsshows · 4 months ago

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À thing I find so disgusting about Ladynoir since season 4 is that the show pulled the real life abuse pattern that Chat Noir's "behavior issues" and "self-consciousness" were on the surface level 'solved' through Ladybug's awful treatment and disregard of him as a human being. Out of the sudden he's "fixed" (which then showed itself as false at the end of season 5) which is used to claim that she was perfect and blameless all along, when all that happens is that Adrien learned that he has to be quiet and obedient around Ladybug or else he'll face the consequences for it again because she's stressed and always takes it out on him for which he will then have to cuddle and absolve her of the blame again because heaven help us what would happen if he didn't.

Ladynoir is a very realistic happen of an abuser and a victim. Her every emotion and word is the law and he's always irrational and wrong and needs to bow to her whim and be perfect so she doesn't have to ever REALLY try. Like an abuser and victim. This is exactly what it resembles to a T.

If Adrien as Chat Noir stopped "acting out" around Ladybug, it's because she has made it clear as day that he'll face physical and emotional consequences for it. Her having the basic decency to not take pleasure from doing it and FINALLY having stopped doing it by default doesn't undo the the fact that he had to learn that she's not a save person to be around and he has to be as perfect and small and quiet as possible because she can apparently not help herself but hurt, neglect, and use him. Adrien had to learn by now that Ladybug views hurting him or someone else hurting him for the greater good as a justified sacrifice to make and a price she's willing enough to almost always pay if it serves a greater purpose.

Season 4 proved that there is hardly anything Marinette would ever spare Chat Noir from since that is second nature for her in their dynamic and she prioritizes him understanding that she isn't ill-intentioned above working on herself to stop hurting him in the first place. That's a classic uncomfortable-abuser priority whne the abuser doesn't know how to not hurt the victim so they rather want to make sure the victim acceptes the bad treatment. It is inherently a selfish approach and Marinette is doing that with Chat Noir. She wants him around and what price he has to pay for that is hardly of any relevance to her.

It doesn't matter that Ladybug finally stopped being violent on main now that she didn't had anyone else besides her, she has already teached him and justified it how much she's willing to do to him. It isn't a question of "would Ladybug hurt Chat Noir?" because the answer is yes. The question is rather, when will she justify doing it again as she did before? As we already saw in Derision. Where Marinette's first instinct for her plan was to risk hurting and humiliating Chat again and it ended with him apologizing for not having controlled his emotions, but she tells him to as good as THANK her for having made him her target again because she says that's what they have partners for and she was KIND for doing that to him. So HE accepted his behavior was wrong, but SHE declared herself as flawless and generous again. No self-awareness whatsoever, she learned less than nothing or at least wants him to keep thinking that her behavior is good and gratitude-worthy so she can make herself out to be the kind und understanding person for "forgiving" him for being the flawed one of the two of them.

It's a realistic abusive relationship with Marinette as abuser. Not all abuse is done with malicious-intentions. It's abuse 101 that you can unintentionally abuse a loved one but I guess acknowledging that not-evil girls are normal humans and can therefore be abusive too is not "feminist" enough for the show.

If Chat Noir isn't talking back anymore it's because Ladybug has proven how badly she takes being talked back to and that she can only be talked to in soft compliments or else he will face a consequence for 'stressing' her again. No matter if it's just her ignoring him and talking over him again like in Perfection, actually screaming or hitting, being "accidentally" dehumanized and publicly humiliated by her again, or plain and simply having to suck up to her again to make sure him not agreeing with her isn't making her spiral which affects her hero performance and will cause him to having to suck up to her even more.

If Adrien isn't asking for anything again it's because Ladybug teached him how unsave she is to ask and expect anything off. Her feeling sorry and not intentionally hurting him doesn't undo the harm. Ladybug isn't safe to rely on so Adrien stopped doing it in season 5 all together because of how the Ladynoir conflict was handled in season 4.

No one is unable to be toxic and abusive under bad circumstances. That's normal. Circumstances explain but don't excuse or undo the harm. Funny how the show and Marinette fans understand that whne it's to HER benefit, but the moment it's about Marinette's flaws they pretend like they've never heard of that concept before.

I'm upset with canon Ladynoir because, yeah, it can definitely still be saved, but that requires accountability and effort from Marinette to stop only caring about Chat not ever being upset with her. Cause that only reinforces the toxic/ abusive cycle that teaches him awful lessons, puts his life and well-being at risk and leaves him isolated in case he needs help (as it all happened in the end) which she only tolerates because she is the one benefiting from it. That not justice, that's self-righteousness and extremely selfish.

---

I’ve said this before and it bears repeating; the writers made a grave mistake when they made Marinette directly benefit from Adrien being an abuse victim. Because Marinette benefits from Adrien's trauma responses, and she's the type of person who presses any advantage she has, she has outright taken advantage of the way Cat Noir reacts to things to win arguments and get her way. She has seen that he doesn't value himself and has done nothing with this info but take advantage to get away with her toxic behavior. She is extremely toxic.

Because Adrien came to her preabused, he won't question how she treats him too much and will always stop pressing back against her after she makes it clear she doesn't want to budge once. Adrien is used to unreasonable people who won't consider his perspective, so Marinette never has to take him into account and so she makes no effort to do so. Even if Adrien wasn't an abuse victim, she'd be a jerk for thinking hiding a third permanent team member from him was okay, never mind the increased frequency and violence in any physical admonishments directed at her supposed trusted partner.

This is also one the root causes of the abuse apologia in the show and fandom. A lot of people are uncomfortable with the idea that our beloved protagonist is abusive, or even “just” toxic. They’ve been rooting for her for years, waiting for her to improve on the things that made her similar to the villain of the show. But now the show has made it clear that, no, actually, she won’t improve, because the girlboss fantasy is built on Adrien being abused into submission so that Marinette never has to be uncomfortable or do anything in a relationship that isn’t strictly to her benefit, be it a friendship or a romance.

The main character of Miraculous, and the main relationship in Miraculous, both hinge on people just ignoring the fact that Marinette is acting extremely toxic. Because, if people acknowledge that, it’s apparent that this show is saying some messed up stuff about abuse and that the main heroine and main couple should absolutely not be rooted for. And that’s why even people who think Marinette’s actions are toxic, aren’t ready to say she is toxic. They have to make Marinette’s actions a separate entity from her, despite said actions being the very core of the Ladybug/Cat Noir relationship in the retool seasons. Marinette “has good intentions” and they’re invested in her story and the idea that said investment might be underserved is just hard to come to grips with.

#ml salt #ml fandom salt

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luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 1 year ago

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Obey Me! Characters go to a haunted corn maze!

(Execpt for Raphel, Thirteen, and Mephistopheles)

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Welcome! More Halloween Content even though Halloween passed! Sorry I just couldn't post it in time! Also srry its a little long! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

In the Devildom Halloween festives rave on, and a new haunted corn maze arises! It was probably Diavolo or Mc who suggested everyone does the maze. Some participants didnt want to go, Mammon and Luke, but who can say no to the Devildom's Prince and Mc? Since it is the Devildom, the haunted maze does say it could be dangerous, and that some of the scares are real, however the maze promises to not kill or give a deadly curse to any customers. The maze states you might end up with a simple curse if you break any rules. The maze has a rule that only two people can go into the maze together at a time, obviously everyone fought over who got to go with Mc. Other rules for the maze are the usual rules, no stealing, no cheating, no hurting scare creatures, no breaking or damaging maze property, ext. The mazes appearance is quiet frightening, just the sight of it has Mammon and Luke shaking in their boots. Since the maze only allows groups of two Mc pairs up with...

Choose based on how they act in the maze!

Diavolo is bubbly and excited, he's excited that Mc choose to be his partner in the maze and he's excited to participate at the haunted maze. Diavolo doesn't jump at any jumpscares he just laughs and says something about enjoying that scare. If Mc gets scared Diavolo won't tease them, he may laugh lightly but he will happily pull Mc into his side to protect them. Trust him Mc, nothing can hurt you with the Prince of Devildom by your side. Diavolo may talk to the monsters who are acting as scare actors after they scare him and Mc. He'll praise the actors on their scares and just have a friendly chat with them. The maze experience with Diavolo may be longer than its supposed to be, due to his friendly nature, but it makes things very fun, and light-hearted. Overall its a great experience to do the maze with Diavolo. Diavolo doesn't get cursed from the maze because he doesn't do anything wrong. At the end of the maze when a ghost on a stick pops out Diavolo is delighted by such a simple scare! He even tries to talk Barbatos into putting a ghost on a stick somewhere in the castle, no matter how much he begged and whined Barbatos never gave in. Diavolo actually had Mc help him make his own ghost on a stick, Diavolo put it up somewhere in the castle "without" Barbatos knowing. This lasted for like 5 minutes, Barbatos took it down very soon after it was put up. This exchange kept happening for about a month before Barbatos just gave up and left the ghost on a stick up. There's now a ghost on a stick in a random hallway in the castle so beware if you get lost, you might just encounter a silly jumpscare.

Barbatos is his usual self. You won't catch this man breaking a sweat at all, no flinching, no eye blink in suprise, no reactions at all, none of fear or suprise or any emotions at all really. Barbatos won't tease Mc, he won't laugh at them, if anything he'll tell them it's alright to get startled. Barbatos is the perfect gentleman, he'll tuck Mc into his side to protect them from the scares, he'll counsel Mc when they get scared, if Mc wants to cling onto him the entire time he's letting them. Barbs can see the future so he might even know when the scares are coming, if he does he may subtly show Mc through squeezing their hand gently or pulling them a little closer to his side. If Barbatos doesn't know when the jumpscares will be, he still won't react. Barbatos will let Mc take the maze at their own pace, if Mc wants to enjoy the maze he doesn't want to rush them, and if Mc is scared and wants out of the maze as fast as possible, that's fine too, as a highly respected butler he's used to being quick on his feet anyways. Barbatos does not get cursed by the maze, hes to well behaved, he can't shame the young masters name. Barbatos finds the ghost on a stick at the end of the maze, as immature and silly, he doesn't show any reaction, but he may comment on how its his least favorite scare within the maze. He apprectiates the art behind it but its just not his cup of tea.

Lucifer is calm and collected like always, he may even tease Mc if they act scared. All the way up until the end of the maze Lucifer doesn't flinch at a single scare. The scares range in all kinds, the maze has real zombies, ghosts, whatever monster you can think of there is, but the maze also has fake pop ups or demons with costumes on, so its never clear what scare you're going to get. He just chuckles if Mc jumps at any scares, he'll let Mc hide behind him or hold his arm if their scared. He may even comment on the scares in between scares, talking about the quality of the scares and how he would have done it differently. At the very end of the maze Lucider and Mc are chatting about the maze and Lucifer gets lost in the coversation, he was just enjoying Mc's smile and laugh. Suddenly a fake ghost on a stick popped out and scared Lucifer, he was in his demon form in an instant. Everything happened just as fast as that, Lucifer drug Mc to his body with his wings so he could protect them, at the same time Lucifer punched through the ghost on the stick, efficiently breaking it. As soon as it dawned on Lucifer what he did he cleared his throat, turned back into his human form and muttered something to Mc about 'speaking of this to no one' before he began to walk off. Lucifer broke the rules to the maze, he damage property, so he found out quickly that he was cursed to trip every 3 steps. Due to the Anti-Lucifer League (I called them a squad before lmao my bad) cursing Lucifer often, he had experienced this curse before. Lucifer was able to get used to it quickly and was able to walk almost as if he wasn't cursed at all.

Mammon is loosing his marbles before he even enters the haunted maze. Mammon calms down a little and is all happy and blushy when Mc chooses him as their partner for the maze. Mammon tries to be all brave and act all tough just for Mc. The poor tsundere doesn't even wait until the first scare in the maze to cling onto Mc out of fear. He's the type to he clinging onto Mc out of fear and still be telling Mc that they are the scared one and that he's protecting them. If Mc gets scared thats okay hes scared too even though Mc will never catch him saying that. Mammon would ditch Mc if he absolutely had to, but most likely Mc will just be dragged around by Mammon as he runs around wildly in fear. Mammon does get cursed by the maze, halfway through the maze Mc anx Mammon find a "treasure chest" when Mammon opened it, the was a bunch of "gold" coins inside. Mc warned Mammon to not take any but he didn't listen, Mammon takes a couple of coins but as soon as he does they disenegrate into a dark goo. Mammon whines that he thought they were real and goes to continue the maze with Mc. Mammon doesn't realize why he's tripping every 3 steps until someone tells him that he was cursed by the maze for trying to steal. Mams is upset when he finds out he's cursed but like what can he do about it you know? He just whines and complains until the curse wears off. At the end of the maze, when the ghost on a stick pops out Mammon practically jumps over it trying to run away, Mammon drags Mc out of the maze by the hand and then acts like he wasn't scared at all. He'll deny all claims anyone makes even if Mc says he got scared, if Mc tells everyone they are proud, that he was brave and always saving them, Mammon will be over the moon and brag for days, weeks, maybe even months.

Leviathan, handles horror alright. He plays horror games he watches horror movies and animes, so he's used to scary things in that form, however Levi doesn't leave his room often, so sometimes he cinds the outside world to be overwhelming and scary itself. Levi is glad to have Mc as his partner for the maze, Mc always knows what to do and say and how to help him. If Mc gets scared by the maze Levi is not going to tease them, Mc never teases him so why would he tease them? Besides getting scared is a part of the horror experience! Levi didn't think he'd protect Mc, he had a lot of self doubting over that, but he protects Mc like a pro! He holds Mc if they want him to, he'll push Mc behind himself or pull them into his side, if Levi gets scared he may pull Mc away from the scare but he would never straight up ditch Mc. Levi does get scared by a couple of the scares in the maze, one of those times wasn't even supposed to be scary. It was just some random demon asking if Mc and him knew which way to go. Levi does not get cursed, he's rather well behaved during his experience in the maze. He's just focused on hanging out with Mc and having fun doing the maze. By the time Mc and him get to the end of the maze they are laughing and chatting about what they'll do back at HoL. When the ghost on the stick pops out Levi gets so startled that he turns into his demon form, Levi holds Mc to his side, slightly hiding them behind his body, he bares his fabgs at the "threat" and his tail wraps around Mc as if to protect them. When he realizes its just a ghost on a stick he's a flustered embarrassed boy. All his flusteredness gets worse if Mc praises him as their hero, however he is really happy to be their hero.

Satan loves himself a good horror experience. It can be a movie, book, haunted maze it doesn't matter he enjoys it. He apprectiates the art behind each scare, pranks and scares are somewhat similar, and he's always pranking Lucifer. Satan may tease Mc over being scared by the maze depending on how he's feeling. Most likely he'll use the maze as a romantic situation, he'll be the perfect gentleman and play the part of protector well. Satan will hold Mc close and gladly put himself in between Mc and the "danger". Satan may take notes from some of the scares, talkingto Mc about using the scares on Lucifer. Satan may also somehow find some scare creature that he talks to for awhile, he'll tell Mc that their his acquaintance and then he'll tell some crazy story on how he met them. Somehow even though Satan is perfectly behave, he winds up cursed. He's not upset over being cursed he's upset that his brothers will say something and probably try and make fun of him for it. Satan caught on pretty quick and was able to walk almost as if he wasn't cursed. By the time Mc and Satan get to the end of the maze neither one of them is paying attention to the maze, their both chatting about some book or how Satan should pull the scares off. When the ghost on a stick pops out Satan is suprised, but he pulls it off rather well. Satan will have pulled Mc into his side to protect them and he might even switch into his demon form on accident. Satan will blush and turn back to his human form when he realizes its just a ghost on a stick. Satan doesn't want Mc telling anyone, but he's not as prideful as Lucifer is about it. If Mc teases him or makes jokes Satan will laugh along and tease Mc over anything they got scared by.

Asmodeus can handle horror okay. Asmo isnt the biggest fan of horror, but he's not as much of a scaredy cat as Mammon is. Asmo isn't much of a gore lover but he does enjoy some psychological horror. Haunted mazes may not be Asmo's first choice in Halloween activities, but he can see the appeal to them. This is the perfect excuse to be all over your partner! Asmo understands the romantic aspect of the maze, he is fine with being the damsel in distress or being the hero, as long as he gets to be all close and cuddly with Mc he won't care. Asmo may tease Mc for getting scared but its not in the same way his brothers would, Asmo does it in a romantic-ish type of way. Does Asmo protect Mc from scares, kinda. Does Asmo also need protected from scares, kinda. It just depends on the scare and how Asmo is feeling. If Asmo is protecting Mc he'll pull them into his side and stand between them and the scare. If Asmo gets scared homself, then he basically jumps into Mc's arms as he screams dramatically and clings onto Mc for life. Asmo gets scared mostly by the real scares, the ones done by scare creatures, but a few fake scares get him as well. Asmo does not get cursed by the maze, he's rather well behaved, and spends most of the maze experience clinging to Mc. By the time Asmo and Mc get to the end of the maze they are both ready to get out. Asmo is complaining about his apperance and how he needs to fix it, Mc's just here for the ride at this point. Wink Wink. When the ghost on a stick pops out Asmo screeches and is all over Mc, after realizing its just a ghost on a stick Asmo calms down, he isn't really embarrassed and him and Mc just laugh it off as they finally leave the maze.

Beelzebub handles horror pretty well, he doesn't freak out but he can get scared. Its more of like a suprised face and maybe a little back step, he just doesn't really freak out over getting scared by something. He's a large boi mans can eat or fight whatever he needs to. Beel is not going to tease Mc over getting scared, he is not like his brothers, specifically his twin, he's sweet baby. Beel is an amazing partner to pick for the maze, as long as he doesnt get hungry during the maze. Beel will protect Mc no matter what the scare is, it can be a real scare a fake scare it doesn't matter, he needs to keep Mc safe. He'll put himself in between Mc and the scare, let Mc cling onto him or whatever they need to do to feel safe. Beel does get scared a couple of times but he still makes sure to protect Mc. Beel does end up getting cursed, poor guy got hungry, he accidently ate part of the maze. Mc and him had walked up to a witchs hut thing, and he ate the fake apples from the cauldron. He definitely has to be told by someone that he got cursed and thats why he keeps tripping every third step. He is sad puppy, feels ashamed and will apologize to everyone. By the time Mc and Beel get to the end of the maze, Beel is hungry again, Mc will have to try and get him to wait a little longer. Mc probably has to talk about a random subject trying to distract him when the ghost on a stick pops out, Beel somehow resists eating it and he gets headpats from Mc before they leave the maze.

Belphegor likes horror if he can stay awake for it. This man teams up with Satan all the time to cause chaos for Lucifer, so he loves the idea of learning some new scare tactics. Belphie teases the hell out of Mc if they get scared, he's a brat like that. He'll make this big deal out of it all too, like even if Mc only gets scared once he still isn't gonna let it go for awhile. Belphie can be a good maze partner but he can also be a menace, it just depends on what mood he's in. He'd never actually cause harm but he might do things like; jokingly push Mc towards the scare, "disappear" and freak Mc out, or try some of his scares on Mc. If Belphie is feeling nice or winds up feeling scared he'll stay by Mc's side and be a slight protector. Mc can cling onto him or hide behind him, he may wrap his arm around them but he's lazy and he knows its not an actual danger usually. Belphie doesn't really get scared but once he starts getting tired he becomes easier to scare so the scares start to get him towards the end of the maze. Belphie doesn't get cursed for breaking the rules, he's to tired to do anything other than cling to Mc's side. When the ghost on a stick pops out at the end of the maze, Belphie does get a little frightened, he goes into protectir mood. Belphie switches into his demon form and acts all intimidating. When he realizes its just a ghost on a stick he may be a little embarrassed. If Mc tries to tease him, he'll just brush it off and get sassy, he protecyed them after all so why is Mc veing all sassy?? Mans is def confused and upset, he thought he'd get cuddles and kisses.

Solomon is pretty good at handling horror, once you've lived as long as him fake horrors are nothing compared to what you've lived through. Solomon is a prankster and loves learning new scares and tricks, he definitely takes notes and appreciates the scares. Solomon teases the hell out of Mc if they get scared, Solomon just finds it so funny! Solomon is a decent maze partner depending on his and Mc's moods, Solomon is a chaos enticing man, so he'll mostly be chaotic, teasing, and boderline insane. However if Mc starts to get tired of his antics or starts getting seriously scared, he will start acting better. He wont tease them as much and he'll assure them he's there to protect them if danger arises. Solomon may be a chaos causing old man but he still cares for Mc, he'll gladly protect them if thats what they want. Though he believes his apprentice can help themselves. Solomon doesn't get that scared by the scares, he mostly just laughs at the scares but there may be one moment where he steps back in suprise, thats the most reaction they'll get from him though. Solomon does break the rules, but he somehow doesn't get cursed?? Solomon says its because of all the magical wards he has placed to protect himself but who knows if thats actually why he doesn't get cursed. Maybe he really does get cursed and just plays it off well enough, Mc will never know either way. Solomon finds the ghost on a stick at the end of the maze to be hilarious, he thinks its delightful! Such a simple scare but one that's bound to make at least one person jump. Solomon tries to figure out how he can make it better eith magic but he ultamitely decides its good on its own. It was either that or for fireworks to go off when the ghost popped out to scare people, the orginal design seemed much safer.

Simeon says in game that he doesn't really get startled by jumpscares. He handles horror pretty well, and enjoys the experience the maze provides. Scary things may not be his first choice, but he can handle them and he does enjoy experiencing new things. He probably wont tease Mc for getting scared, if he did it wouldnt be mean teasing, itd be very light barely considered teasing. He just doesn't want to make Mc feel bad, their a human in an Devildom Hunated Maze, its completely understandable to be scared. Simeon is such a good maze partner, its in his nature to protect others, especially humans, so he is always putting himself in between Mc and the scares. He'll let Mc cling to his arm and he'll pull them out of the way of any "danger" during the maze experience. Simeon doesnt get scared often however theres probably one scare that makes him blink in suprise and step back, its probably something he shouldn't even be scared of too, he's definitely embarrassed if it is. Simeom does not get cursed, he is to well behaved, the only way this man is getting cursed is if he messes with technology, but thankfully theres no technology in the maze! By the time Simeon and Mc get to the end of the maze their both chatting about their favorite scare, when the ghost on a stick pops out Simeon gets slightly startled but plays it off with a laugh and smile. Simeon found the ghost on a stick to be cute and it was one of his favorites.

Luke (platonic ofc) Luke is scared before even entering the maze, he's definitely giving Mammon a run on his money when it comes to being the scaredy cat of the group. Luke tries to act brave for Mc but the boy is very anxious and scared. Pls hold his hand. Luke is not going to tease Mc if they get scared, he's to nice for that. If Mc teases Luke for being scared they'll have an angry angel on their hands. Luke will try and protect Mc from the scares, he'll hold their hand or arm and "direct" them away from the danger. He's pulling as hard as he can as he runs away full speed. Luke is scared by basically all the scares, theres a few moments where hes calm but he's mostly panicking out of fear. Luke doesn't get cursed, he is well behaved and follows all of the rules. He is probably the one that read the sign where the rules were, even when panicking he'll remeber the rules and scream them out to Mc. By the time Luke and Mc get to the end of the maze, Luke is basically clinging onto Mc out of fear. When the ghost on a stick pops out luke gets scared, he tries to pull Mc away from it but Mc points it out to him. Luke is embarrassed that he got scared by a scare so silly, Luke doesn't like the ghost on a stick, probably because he got scared by it.

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Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! My posts have been everywhere recently and so has my writing but hey content! More stuff is coming so Stay Tuned! Stay Safe! & Stay Spooky! ‹𝟹

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⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

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