#they keep thinking ‘but if she WAS telling the truth about this then would it not be a ruse to make her performance more genuine?’

[crepezinhos]

The Lion and The Fox

POV: Sunday has always had high expectations of you, his dear secretary, and his lovesick obsession for you has only made his trust on you increase uncontrollably. But now, he felt like his world was crumbling right in front of him when he learned that you were pregnant, and the father was the man he most despised, that he wish he could deport from Penacony, Aventurine.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a Yandere and Suggestive SFW Oneshot

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: A lot of dirty-talking and racially-motivated talking, accidental pregnancy, bloody fighting, attempted murder, violent language and obsessive/possessive behavior.

— Yandere!Boss!Sunday x Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Aventurine

— AU is: In-Game

“Ah, Y/N. You’re here.” Sunday turned his gaze away from the windowed wall of his office with a little grin growing in the edges of his lips to look at you, who was entering the room with embarrassment already taking you over.

“Hi… Mr. Oak.” You didn’t even dare ignoring his greet as you pushed the door back to its place from behind, especially considering how much he personally respected you.

But you immediately sighed in defeat as you realized how obviously awkward your tone accidentally came out of your throat, which you knew would alarm his attentive ears in a blink.

“Is everything okay?” And his speed to figure someone’s head out, or at least yours in particular, made you even less confident to keeping making eye contact at those mesmerizing amber eyes of his. “You seem very disturbed, dear.”

“Mr. Oak, I—” At the same you desperately wanted to vomit those words out of your chest, your logical thinking warned you that the conversation you were about to have with him right now would not be easy work, perhaps even heartbreaking.

Sunday begun silently walking away from his spot and going towards you, as if he was trying to avoid any explosive reaction out of you or comfort you. But unfortunately, his elegant apparent d and tall figure completely triggered the opposite out of you.

“I need to take a break.” You threw your head to the left as you confessed your intentions to him without any further context, paralyzing the Halovian. “Like… a few days or a whole week…”

“A whole week?” Sunday’s tone did not change, though, and after a few seconds waiting for a response, he finally figured you were too uncomfortable to speak any more without his leadership. “May I ask why?” He continued walking, a little more faster this time, cornering you against the wall even if his hands remained behind his back as usual.

“I’m not feeling quite well, Mr. Oak—”

“Please, address me as Sunday, dear.” You suddenly felt something wooly reach your left cheek and begin to caress it gently, figuring it was Sunday’s fingers after successfully cornering you against the door. “My apologies… I won’t interrupt you again.”

“I’m just feeling sick. That’s all…” You awkwardly finished yourself while trying to ignore his intimate demonstration of care.

“And you need a whole week to recover from it?” His tone shifted to a more serious one while that hand of his spread itself around your whole jaw and slightly pulled it upwards, forcing you to look at him again, and your silence made it obvious to him that you were either lying or hiding something from him. “Let’s sit down, dear.” His hypnotizing grin almost made you vomit the truth right there out of guilt.

Sunday released you and begun stepping towards where his office desk and fancy chair were, without acknowledging how quickly he had convinced you to speak the truth to him. That distressing nod in your throat was already unbearable on its own, but that you were being forced to tell such disappointing news to such a sweet and caring boss like Sunday, that truly admires you and trusts you deeply, just couldn’t be postponed anymore.

“I’m pregnant!” As soon as the distance between you and him was comfortable to you, when Sunday’s hand was about to reach his chair’s arm support, you let the beast out of its cage. “I am feeling sick indeed, but it’s because I’m pregnant and I have no idea what to do about it yet!” Your voice cracked a few times as you bowed your head down, tears barely glistening your eyes, but you did your best to hold them back and not stress Sunday, who had fully paralyzed in his spot.

…

…

…

“I beg your pardon?” Sunday slowly turned his head to you, the rest of his body immobile in its place.

“You heard me, Mr. O—… Sunday… I’m pregnant.” You crossed your arms and legs, leaning against the wall vulnerably.

And once again, Sunday didn’t say anything again some awkward seconds, causing your heart to beat even faster than it already was.

…

…

“P-Pregnant..?” This was one of the first times you’ve ever heard Sunday’s voice crack and stutter.

“Yes, sir.” You quickly nodded.

…

…

…

“Like… pregnant pregnant?” Sunday repeated himself again, a little more desperate.

“Yes, sir.” And you nodded to him again, a little more desperate too.

“When did you…” He didn’t know what to ask you due to the unprocessed shock. “For how long have you known this?” Sunday sounded a little madder as you expected, but at the same time you could feel some worry and anxiety coming from him as you saw him move a hand to his collar and start fidgeting his own tie.

“I took the test a few days ago, Mr. Oak.” Although you noticed how you referred to him in the wrong manner, Sunday didn’t seem to notice it, or at least preferred to not scold you again.

“How many people know about it yet?” Sunday finally turned his full body to you. After all, that question mattered a lot.

“None of my friends know about it yet, only the father and you, sir.” At this moment, it felt like all of your friendship with Sunday never existed in the first place, considering how incredibly negative his reaction was.

“Ah, yes… the father.” Sunday spat the word like a curse, scoffing at it right afterwards before pausing for a moment. “Who is the lucky man, Y/N?” Sunday decided to speak in a warmer tone, hoping it would help appeasing the suspense between you two, but it wasn’t quite useful to you.

“Sunday, I… I don’t think I should—”

“I have to know who the father is, Y/N.” He immediately shut you off with a shaky, anxious voice before you could fully reject him. “I don’t think it would be beneficial for us if the people of Penacony were to learn that the secretary of the Head of the Family… my secretary… is pregnant of someone of bad influence, especially if I was not aware of it or consenting to it. Don’t you agree?” Sunday’s voice cracked a few more times with his growing anger as his fingers became more aggressive with his tie.

You weakly nodded, feeling more tears rise up to your eyes. You were expecting Sunday to have a negative reaction indeed, but you did not expect him to be this bold. It even made you question your non-professional friendship with him. Was he not as attached to you like you thought? Was his kindness to you just a souvenir for your hard work? Have you two ever developed a friendship in the first place? If not, were you really just a secretary to him? If yes, how intimate are you two?

“This seriously endangers your job, Y/N, so if you don’t wish me to take extreme measures with you, tell me, dear, who is the father..?!” Despite his self-control, you noticed a pattern of how he was simply unable to hold all his anger when he mentioned the ‘father’.

You breathed in and out, preparing yourself for the bomb you were about to drop on him. After all, losing your job to this did not seem to be the smartest choice to be done, although the answer itself could still make you lose your job anyway.

“I believe the father is Aventurine, sir.” You closed your eyes as you told your version of the story, trying to make it more broad by stating as a theory rather than a fact, but you were certain that the baby was Aventurine’s.

…

…

…

Sunday scoffed.

…

…

…

“Aventurine?” Sunday’s tone deepened, almost falling into pure madness. “The Sigonian from the IPC?”

“…Yes, sir.” You weakly nodded again, finally finding some courage to open your eyes and look up to him.

“You’ve been going out with him?” Sunday’s tie wasn’t tucked under his white tuxedo anymore, and he was barely blinking his widened eyes.

“I believe you’re crossing a line of privacy, sir. I won’t be answering that.” You felt blood rush to your cheeks as you remembered your last date with the gambler, specifically when the baby was being made, speaking a little bit more annoyed.

“Why? He didn’t assault you or anything of the sort, did he, dear?” Sunday’s hands crossed around each other.

“No, sir.” Your tone went back to its previous shy one.

Sunday’s eyes finally dropped and stopped violently staring at you, looking around in confusion as he breathed in and out harshly. It did help you and your body to calm down, though.

“You know you can always trust me if there’s any danger going on in your life, right?” Sunday looked at you again with curiosity, which made your body stiffen again.

“Absolutely, sir.” You nodded more confidently. That statement reassured you about your previous thoughts about Sunday.

He really isn’t that bold. He never was. Today was just a minimal and reasonable exception.

“Good.” Sunday’s eyes got distracted again as he thought about all the facts that have been told, and you decided to contribute with your own silence.

…

…

…

…

…

“You know what? I must apologize to you, dear. What kind of man treats a pregnant lady like this? Only some uneducated punk… It was very childish of me, Y/N, I’m truly sorry.” Sunday suddenly relaxed in a blink, his hands going behind his back as usual while a cute grin took over his lips again as if he hadn’t almost gone mad in front of you.

After all, self-control is a really important aspect in this sort of job.

“No, it’s ok… I understand. I would be very worried too if I found out my secretary suddenly got pregnant.” Sunday hummed a giggle at your comment as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Go home, dear.” Sunday walked to you again, his hands landing on both your shoulders. “Go take a good rest. I’ve made you work enough this week.” His thumbs gently brushed your skin like wet porcelain, even raising them a few times to push some strands of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re… you’re not mad?” Deep down, you found his sudden change of behavior weird, and you weren’t exactly comfortable with it.

“Mad? Why would I be mad at you, dear? I trust you to make a smart choice about this.” And now that you were closely staring at his fine face, that smile, no matter how warm it was, it seemed to be betraying whatever was going through his mind. “Make sure to keep your commitment with the Family in mind, ok?” Sunday suddenly leaned his face to the right side of your face, his mouth hanging inches away from your ear as his voice suddenly turned serious.

“Of course, boss.” You nodded to Sunday, who patted your head in appreciation for a few seconds before finally letting you go.

.

SLAM!

All the human bodies in the casino were attracted by the loud bang of the double doors being against the walls as they were brutally pushed open, whispers beginning to accumulate onto each other as they realized it was Sunday Oak who walked in.

“Is that Sunday Oak?”

“I thought he condemned gambling…”

“What is he doing here?”

“Sunday Oak?”

“Should I ask for an autograph?”

“Isn’t he Robin’s older brother?”

Sunday couldn’t care less about any of those comments or the glances landing on him as he walked inside the flashy halls of the casino. He was entirely interested and focused on his hunt, and his hunt only.

After all, it didn’t take him more than 5 seconds to identify what he was searching for.

Aventurine.

The slim, blonde man sitting down lazily on a chair with spread legs and a pack of cards in his hands, accompanied by two other men playing with him, sitting in the opposite corners of the table, all of them shaping the form of a triangle where Aventurine was directly facing Sunday. The table was full of cards and chips thrown around it, even a few real credits too, showing that they weren’t just playing casually, and three cups of alcohol being the only objects standing still.

“Ah, the Head of the Family himself, Sunday Oak! What an honor it is to have you in my casino! What brings you here tonight?” The gambler put his cards facing down in the table to open his arms to Sunday in a warm greeting.

His purple eyes still managed to shine through the dark pair of sunglasses he was wearing and the whole dark ambient around them.

But Sunday’s murderous face didn’t appease a bit with his warm greeting.

“Leave.” He glanced down at the two other gamblers, who simply shared confused looks with each other and Aventurine when they heard his order. “NOW!” Both men immediately flinched upwards hearing his scream, fleeing from their seats as if they were fleeing for their lives.

After all, who would be insane enough to challenge the Head of the Family?

As soon as the steps of the coward men started to become faint murmurs in the ambient, Aventurine finally started taking advantage of their privacy to speak again.

“See… when I say that you’re always welcome in here, Mr. Oak, that doesn’t necessarily mean you have the right to interrupt any of the games—”

“You got Y/N pregnant..?!” Aventurine’s smirk grew as he realized what was Sunday’s objective in his casino and how angry he was due to it, even if he had been interrupted.

“Ah… so you’ve heard the news…” Aventurine proceeded to grab the glass of liquor sitting closest to him and took a sip of it. “It is also an honor to have being the first person to congratulate me…”

“Congratulate you..?” Sunday’s eyes widened in audacity at his words. “Congratulate you?! For what? For making such an absurdly irresponsible decision?!” Sunday finally dragged one of the empty chairs closer to him and sat himself down at on it, both his hands slamming the table while Aventurine simply mired down at the liquor in the glass. “You’re a gambler, and you’re completely addicted to it! What is wrong with you?! What kind of man sustains his family by gambling?!” Aventurine couldn’t help but scoff at his words as his eyes finally looked up to meet his again, starting a war of eye contact.

“Oh, please, we both know that you’re not mad at the fact that I’m a gambler about to become a father.” The gambler finally placed the glass back to the table, his arms crossing as he leaned against the chair.

Sunday refused to answer him although both men had a lot of privacy to discuss such an intimate topic.

“You’re mad that it’s not going to be a beautiful and cute Halovian baby growing inside her with cute little wings on his head and a shiny golden halo that will grow to be the Family’s next prodigy..! And instead, it’s going to be a little Sigonian trash with cursed fortune.” Aventurine used his hands to point at Sunday’s features and his owns, but it didn’t trigger Sunday to answer him, despite his boiling annoyance. “Not that? No? Then it might be that… you’re mad at the fact that it wasn’t you who made the path inside her womb first?” Aventurine uncrossed him arms and set them on table while leaning his body a little closer to his to challenge him, finally causing Sunday to slightly snap.

After all, an obsessed man like him could not handle the imagination of his perfect pure darling being bred by the man who directly competes with him for her, all twirled around his figure and showing him your nudity.

“You little shit…” Sunday fisted his own hands as his eyebrows to frown in the table’s cloth as he tried avoiding those sinful thoughts.

“Me?” Aventurine’s eyes widened with Sunday’s hypocrisy. “Imagine you’re constantly trying to hang out with this marvelous, jaw-dropping and inspiring woman, but she’s always rejecting you because she was either working in a Saturday night, or too exhausted from it on Sunday, hum? You feeling me now?” Aventurine tried waiting for an answer, but Sunday refused to let himself downgrade to the gambler’s level and backed down again. “I think I should actually thank you for making her exhausted and home-alone during her precious weekends. You’ve surely left that woman touch-starved, and I certainly took advantage of that whenever I insisted in visiting her in her home… She’s actually extra tight when she’s stressed.” Aventurine winked at him, intentionally ignoring Sunday’s unblinking, widening eyes. “Just to think about my cock suffocating inside that tiiight pussy of hers while she begs for me to keep ravishing it nonstop makes me so hard…” Aventurine was rubbing his legs together under the table to avoid his slight erection to grow any further under his pants while his cheeks slightly reddened.

“You hell-sent maniac…” That was all Sunday could mumble without exploding. “Do you even listen to yourself? Is this the poor vocabulary that poor kid would learn from their father? You have absolutely no conditions of being a father. I know it, you know it, Y/N knows it. Do you have any idea how worried she was when she was talking to me about this mess? Do you think she’d be that worried about it if I was the father of her child, hum? Do you think she’s happy to be pregnant of you?” Sunday finally decided to take some dominance in the conversation and leaned closer to Aventurine.

“Do you think she’d be any happier to pregnant of you, Mr. Oak? Her manipulative boss that takes advantage of her every free second to keep her revolving around you, yet, refuses to take a single step forward with your relationship with her and keeps edging her pleasure in you?” Aventurine sounded a little angrier as he described Y/N’s work ambient.

“You know nothing about me and Y/N…” Sunday hissed at him. Deep down he knew he had a fair point and that he had to change his relationship with her if he wanted to conquer her heart.

“Well, I certainly know all of this would’ve probably been avoided if you weren’t the coward that you are, and asked her out before I did. Now, even if you did manage to make her fall in love with you and make her your wife, you’d never be able to get rid of the shape of her insides, forever prepared to receive me inside her instead of you because she knows who introduced her the magic of paradisiacal pleasure.” Aventurine twirled his fingers together and set his chin on top of them, his face proudly hanging on it.

“You do realize Y/N is most likely going to abort that cursed baby, right?” Sunday finally found an opportunity to counter Aventurine, smirking in victory after all those sexual comments of you Aventurine has been doing to frustrate him.

“Good for her.” Aventurine shrugged his shoulders, dumbfounding Sunday, who allowed his smirk to die for a moment.

Sunday didn’t understand. Wasn’t he cheerful about her pregnancy? Wasn’t he happy about claiming her womb first and making her a mother before him? Wasn’t he initially arguing with Sunday about being a father?

“You’re just bluffing. I know you’re disappointed.” Sunday brought his grin back before Aventurine could take dominance again, trying to convince him to let that guilt out of his mind.

“I don’t think you’ve understood it yet, Mr. Oak… I don’t intend to be a father. Never intended to be.” Aventurine spoke with a straight face, very relaxed as he confessed his feelings, unlike Sunday.

“I beg your pardon?” Finally, Sunday felt challenged again, so his smirk died again and never rose again.

“Sure, it would be disappointing if she did decide to abort the baby. After all, the idea of repopulating my clan back to this world sounds good to me… but I got her pregnant simply because I want to get her away from you, and that pregnancy is going to force her to take a break from you, and maybe eternally. I already heard you did let her go home today, so it’s already working! Thank you, Mr. Oak!” Sunday was entirely speechless at Aventurine’s confession, not a single full phrase managing to form in his head as the gambler paused again to take another sip of his liquor.

And Sunday knew he had more to add onto that confession, seeing how he swallowed the liquor quickly.

“It surprised me how all it takes to impregnate a woman is a single little puncture in a condom… Make sure to double-check your condoms before sex, Sunday! Protection isn’t a joke!” Sunday couldn’t believe all he had to add to his confession was a joke.

“You..! You did it on purpose?!” Sunday hissed as if he wanted to squeeze the gambler’s head until it crushed into a gory mess.

“Congratulations, Mr. Oak! We can finally have a man-to-man conversation!” Aventurine threw his hands in the air cheerfully as if he was celebrating his birthday.

“Do you have shit in your head instead of a functional brain?! Do you realize you’re putting the life of a child on stake and even her trust on you?! You’re a monster! You had no right to fool Y/N like that!” Sunday was finally finding out how little power of you he had on his hands, his anger finally spilling from its chamber.

“Oh? But you have the right to keep overworking her with the stupidest tasks ever? Making her bring you breakfast and lunch from the cafe with the stupidest exigences ever?! Like ‘No veggies, only keep the onions’, ���Diet raspberry juice’ and ‘Strawberry cupcakes for desert with no sprinkles or extra frosting’? To make her rearrange your whole calendar for the month because you suddenly have a doctor’s appointment in the middle of month? Knowing she’s not intelligent or bossy enough to tell you’re just taking advantage of her position and her trust on you? That you’re a very busy man and genuinely can’t deal with fucking calendars on your own?” Aventurine also dropped his smirk, speaking in a more angered one as well.

“It’s her job, and I’m her boss. And don’t you worry about it because Y/N gets some good money for all her hard work and she loves me for it.” Sunday defended himself a little proudly. It was a good reason to keep her busy with him.

“And I’m just a great fucking friend! See? We’re both playing dirty here…” Aventurine giggled at his own pun, which made Sunday’s wings to twitch.

“Don’t imagine it… Don’t picture it…” Sunday thought to himself, and Aventurine took advantage of his silence.

“And, think about it, what is the worth in all the money you apparently give her if she can’t find herself some time to spend it because her boss can’t let her enjoy her weekends, hum?” Aventurine crossed his arms, settling them on the table to keep himself still leaning close to Sunday’s face.

“As soon as I get you out of my way, I’ll make sure she’ll have a lot of time to enjoy her life with me as her company.” Sunday threatened him with a mean smirk in his face, finding joy in Aventurine’s struggle.

“I don’t think you’ve realized it yet, Sunday. Y/N is already mine. All, all mine. She’s been mine for a long time now and will always be mine. Your little tricks to imprison her with you are clever, but you know how gambling with me works. I’ll always find my way out of risk and become the winner. And if Y/N is clever enough to remember this little fact, you might face a serious danger of her deciding to keep the baby.” Aventurine’s irises were trembling with excitement and hatred for Sunday as he talked about his possession over you.

“We both know she won’t.” Sunday hissed, still keeping his smirk, although he was doing a great effort to not punch the gambler’s face.

“How do you know, hum? Y/N is the kindest soul in this planet! I don’t think she’d opt to interrupt that growing life inside her so easily like you think. Maybe she’ll start sympathizing with it and decide to accept the duty of raising it with me as the father and provider. And if that happens, what are you going to do, huh? Shove your hand inside her womb and abort the baby yourself? You can’t do anything!” Aventurine cackled at the thought of Sunday trying to get rid of the baby inside you or convincing you to do it and pathetically being defeated.

“Maybe I’ll fire her. I can’t afford to have a secretary who’s going to birth a disgusting Avgin nor can she afford her life without the salary I give her… It’s a fair trade!” Sunday threatened enthusiastically, although in his mind he knew he’d never do that to you.

“Oh, really? And make her hate you forever? What a stupid way to give me the opportunity to finally imprison her with me, Sunday! Maybe she’ll learn how great it is to have me as her sugar daddy…” Aventurine threw himself in the chair and I’m his arms in the arm as if he was receiving a gift from Sunday.

“Or maybe I’ll take the matter to my own hands and marry her with me before you. And trust me, gambler, I’ll make sure you have the lowest share of custody, or maybe even none. I’m the head of the Family Oak. I own this whole planet in the palm of my hand.” Sunday also rose his hands in the air and inflated his chest, trying to demonstrate the size of the power he owns.

“Yet, you can’t stop the woman you love from fucking with other men.” Aventurine hummed some giggles while Sunday had to stop himself again to impede his brain from picturing that scenario. “I would rather die than let a baby of my blood to be raised by you. To be raised like a mere annoyance in the house… forever incapable of making his daddy proud of him because he’s not his real son… destined to be overshadowed by his future siblings… Both Y/N and the baby would be happier to have me taking care of them instead of you.” Aventurine’s tone deepened again, his arms lowering sown to his knees and gripping them to control himself.

“I will not lose Y/N to you, gambler. I don’t care if that baby would not be the happiest one in the world. I refuse to let you have her for another single minute of your life with those dirty hands of yours.” Sunday spat his prejudice for the gambler with no remorse.

“Oh-ho? Are you afraid I’m a better womanizer than you, Mr. Head of the Family? That my ‘dirty hands’ are capable to make Y/N moan my name in a volume you’ll never be able to get out of her?” Aventurine stared at the deepest corners of Sunday’s eyes.

“Quiet.” Sunday hissed barely above a whisper.

“That my fingers will penetrate that wet pussy of hers while I devour her throbbing clit with my dirty Avgin mouth? Oh, yeah, I’ve already done that!” Aventurine brought a hand closer to Sunday, only to thrust the air with his ring-finger and middle-finger a few times, pretending it was your pussy.

“Shut. Your. Mouth.” Sunday made sure to pronounce every syllable of his order slowly, exciting Aventurine to keep teasing him even further.

Sunday’s cheeks were reddening with arousal as he couldn’t hold back the few pictures his brain illustrated for him of Y/N’s naked body being touched by Aventurine, meanwhile the gambler moved his hands to his body and started brushing his own body in a suggestive way.

“Ohh~… Aventurine..! You feel sooo good around me~… Oh, right there..! Fuck me right there, Aven..!” Sunday’s fingers gripped on the table’s cloth as if that was the only thing keeping him from having a boner on his own, trying to force himself to focus on the gambler’s threat rather than his pathetic teasing. “Ah, yes~! Touch me, Aventurine! Touch me!” Aventurine put his own palms on his own breasts and gently fondled them, which made Sunday feel so disgusted he slightly backed away from the pervert in front of him.

“Do you seriously think acting like this is going to annoy me?” Sunday bluffed, betraying his own mindset. “I must thank you for the spoilers, though.” He shrugged his shoulders, pretending there wasn’t a noticeable tent growing in his pants.

“See? Even you recognize you’ll never be her first in anything because I’ve been there first!” Aventurine dropped his act, jumping back to the table, leaning over to challenge Sunday with a creepy expression and a proud smile. “Every Saturday night, when you decided to send her a ‘Goodnight’ message and ask how she was doing, I was already pining her down on her own bed and taming her pussy.” Sunday’s mind was unfortunately too attracted to that scenario, forcing himself to think about it.

Thinking about your insides being stretched by the gambler, your breasts fondled by the gambler, your pretty moans being listened by the gambler, your mouth kissing the gambler, your clothes being taken off by the gambler…

All by that stupid gambler, and not him.

“Focus, Sunday. Focus. Focus on the gambler.” Sunday thought to himself.

“Sometimes I even answered you for her, y’know? Sending you a ‘Goodnight’ with cute a heart sticker, pretending to be your dear woman while the real one was gagging on my cock.” Sunday’s eyes widened as he heard that disgusting confession.

Every time you talked to him at nighttime, Sunday would think about what were you possibly doing while texting him. Maybe you were changing yourself into your pijamas, specifically a beautiful nightgown of his favorite kind. Maybe you were kicking your feet and your cheeks were red because you were talking so intimately with your sweet and handsome boss.

How did you even save his contact as? Most likely ‘Mr. Oak’ or maybe ‘Mr. Sunday’ because of your professional relationship with him, but maybe it is something more friendly like ‘Sunday’ or ‘Sunday ❤️’.

But now all those fantasies that made fall in love with you even harder, were crushed by the gambler’s words, and he was really hoping the man was just bluffing to annoy him.

“You disgusting piece of crap..! You had no right to do that!” He hissed as his mind pictured more and more dirty illustrations.

“Seeing you smirk at me every time I passed her to you, thinking you were in charge of her and that I was losing precious time with her, made me want to laugh. Poor you..! You had absolutely no idea! You could’ve died without knowing!” Aventurine started cackling as he saw Sunday’s destroyed ego.

Sunday couldn’t believe it either. The gambler was right, and he did not plan on ever admitting it. To think that he has been interpreting you so wrongly all along and that that Aventurine was taking advantage of his foolishness was making him ache in need for revenge.

It was embarrassing to see a man of his level of money, power and intelligence to commit such a rookie mistake, of letting your weekends free of his obsessiveness and stalking, and find himself in the edge of losing to someone so weaker than him.

But Aventurine didn’t notice Sunday’s breathing becoming louder and louder.

“That’s why I had to show you the truth. To show you who is truly in the lead.” Aventurine unexpectedly leaned closer to Sunday until he was a few centimeters away from his right ear, invading his personal space. “That’s why I made a little hole in my condom before going to her home and ejaculated a lot of sperm inside that pussy when we were having sex. Thousands of my little spermatozoids… finding a way out of that rubber barrier and swimming their way inside her womb, claiming ‘your’ territory…” Sunday shit his eyes, trying to control his painfully quick heartbeats while Aventurine kept enjoying the mental torture. “And trust me, Sunday, despite her not knowing what I had planned for her, she was the one that kept begging for me to keep fucking her and to cum inside her again. Not a single cell of her body wants you—” Sunday unexpectedly unchained himself from the chair, violently grabbing Aventurine’s collar by his green uniform and fisting his knuckles across his cheek.

Sunday just couldn’t deal with his own imaginations anymore.

It hurt him to imagine you not desiring for him to touch you that way. The same way you’ve allowing the gambler to do. It couldn’t be true. He knew he could make you feel as good as the gambler did. All that he was missing was courage to ask you out. To think of Aventurine having the privilege to watch you during sex, giggling about Sunday’s obnoxiousness. To think of the gambler fucking you right in front of him, conquering your heart, and you enjoying it rather than asking him to stop and to saves by Sunday.

Even if it was just a dark fantasy. A horror one. One that would never come to be true, if it depended on you at least, he smacked Aventurine’s face as if he wanted to avoid that possibility as much as he could. He did not want that scum making someone like you fall in love with it anymore.

Although the punch itself wasn’t hard enough to make Aventurine drop his smirk, it was surely made him roll down from the table and vulnerably land on the floor along with a few cards, chips and one of the wine glasses, that broke as soon as it touched the ground, and Sunday throwing himself on top of him.

“YOU FOUL DISGRACE!” Sunday kept attempting to spank Aventurine, who allowed himself to receive every single punch like a masochist while laughing at how Sunday snapped. “YOU HAD NO RIGHTS TO DO THAT TO Y/N!” Everyone in the casino already had their bodies turned to both men, some had even stood up to have a better view of the scene going on, all the whispers accumulating onto each other again.

“What’s going on?!”

“Are they fighting?!”

“Why are they fighting?!”

“Did Sunday Oak lose a bet?!”

“Who is Y/N?”

“They know each other?!”

“Punching me… won’t undo what has been done, Sunday! She’s pregnant! 100% pregnant!” Finally, Aventurine got bored of Sunday’s amateur boxing and rose his hands from the floor, clutched them around Sunday’s cranial wings, squeezing them hard to almost break its bones, and launched his forehead against Sunday’s.

“Who is pregnant?”

“This Y/N person is pregnant?”

“For God’s sake, who’s Y/N?!”

Sunday moaned loud in pain, accidentally weakening his weight on top of Aventurine, who quickly pushed him away from the top and reverted the positions.

“She’s mine… all mine!” Despite the few blood drops running down his nostrils and red marks in his cheeks, Aventurine kept smirking as if he was having the biggest thrill of his life. “And I’ll make sure to keep impregnating her every time I need to remember you who is in the lead! Over and over again!” Aventurine made sure to whisper his words about you and guarantee that nobody would gossip about their conflict, or at least gossip it with all the context behind it.

Aventurine’s punches were way more painful compared to Sunday’s, which was causing him to become so pained and desperate that he couldn’t even react to it, nor hold the gambler back. He doesn’t really tell people that he’s quite stronger than he looks. Although his slim body and smaller height sell the contrary image, all the years he spent being a slave strengthened his muscles forever, unlike Sunday, who has never quite invested in giving himself a buffer body. And the many rings hanging in his fingers, made of multiple gems, were making it only worse.

Sunday started to panic. So many people were witnessing the worst side of him, the Head of the Family, the representative of their planet, being in a casino and initiating a fight on it, one that he was also pathetically losing. After he’s given so many speeches about the importance of peace and the abolishment of violence, he was the first one to opt for violence when the stakes of a fight got too high? Even if he found a way to avoid the situation to escape everyone’s mouth, it still wouldn’t hide the multiple bruises in his face, and that would immediately denounce that he got involved in a fight, whether being who started it or not. Injuries like hematomas and cuts can take weeks to fully heal depending on their depth. How would he hide that from his public? His dear little sister? Gopher? Or… you?

“Oh, fuck.” Sunday thought.

Had he just made a bad decision? Had he embraced his instincts rather than his critical thinking?

He couldn’t let himself lose his reputation or influence so easily. He’d be willing to beg for Aventurine’s mercy as long as his face remained intact. So, that’s why he did his best to turn his face to the side while his arms and cranial wings crossed on top of it to create a barrier between him and Aventurine.

“What is it, birdie? Are you scared?! Come on, punch me again, I dare you!” Aventurine teased as he started digging his hands under his protection and undo it.

But Sunday was way more focused on the miracle laying in the floor by his side. The cup that had previously fallen in the floor and was ignored by them had broken into many big shards of glass, all beautifully laying down by his side and going unnoticed by the gambler.

How fun would it be to stab the foul gambler?

One of Sunday’s arms slowly reached out to the glass, but it wasn’t long enough to grab it, his fingers slightly touching the pointy tip of the glass. And unfortunately, a single arm on its own wasn’t enough to impede Aventurine from breaking through his barrier and curl his both hands around his neck.

“Bye-bye, Mr. Oak…” Aventurine’s eyes only widened in pure joy the more he suffocated Sunday’s throat.

Sunday grunted and gasped, trying to salvage the remaining oxygen in his body while his single hand kept helplessly trying to fight him back and pull at least one of Aventurine’s arms away of his neck.

Aventurine was so invested in his own sadism, watching Sunday’s face contort and crumble, that he still didn’t realize what was his other arm doing, slowly pulling the glass closer to his palm bit by bit.

And when Sunday’s fingers were finally able to pull that piece of glass close enough to him, with a swift movement, Sunday was finally able to—

“ENOUGH!” Aventurine was suddenly pushed away from Sunday by a security guard, immediately making Sunday’s lungs fill themselves with the oxygen he had lost while the glass stabbed nothing but the air.

And with the assistance of incoming men, Aventurine was quickly struck on the floor with his belly turned down and his hand locked together behind his back.

“Smart move, birdie! But, don’t you see..? You don’t stand a chance against my luck!” Aventurine cackled while he was momentarily being cuffed while Sunday was still recovering from the murder attempt.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” Sunday couldn’t stand seeing that smirky face of his anymore and quickly stood up again, getting up on his feet again just to launch himself on the gambler again, the shard of glass already prepared to stab him.

But Sunday was immediately held back by even more guards that arrived in the scene, every muscle of his arms being held back while his legs desperately kicked the air.

“N-No!” He grunted in agony while one of the guards that cuffed Aventurine begun moving to Sunday and undoing his grip on the shard, pulling it away from him after a few seconds.

Aventurine kept cackling at the scene he watching, loving to see Sunday losing all his power and dignity in front of so many people.

“I PROMISE YOU I’M GONNA KILL YOU WITH MY OWN HANDS ONE DAY, YOU MANIAC!” Sunday spat his violent threat while still trying to launch himself towards Aventurine.

“Lets settle the bet, then! Whoever kills each other first gets to keep Y/N forever! Fair trade, ain’t it?” The gambler rose his head to talk to Sunday more confidently.

“AND I’LL MAKE SURE YOUR DIRTY CLAN WILL BE ERASED FROM HISTORY!” Slowly, both men were dragged afar away from each other, Aventurine being set in a sofa while Sunday was kicked out of the casino, rolling down a few staircases before finally finding himself wormed on the floor.

“Oh, wanna raise the stakes?! If I’m the one who kills you, then… your little sister will be punished too~…” Sunday fumed in anger as he thought of the murder of his little sister.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE PUT ROBIN INTO THIS, YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Aventurine rolled his eyes in boredom with Sunday denying to raise the stakes of their bet.

“Get him out of my sight.” Aventurine looked at the guards and spoke more seriously, a smirk still displayed in his lips.

Sunday gasped when he begun being pulled away from his prey.

“YOU’RE DEAD, GAMBLER! DEAD!” Sunday made sure to state his final words before he was thrown in the streets.

Sunday rolled a few stairs down, ruining the perfect white color of his suit, but unfortunately he couldn’t stop to relax, ease the pain and fix himself because of the people that could be around him. So, he quickly got up from the floor and fled to a narrow corner between two tall buildings, surrounded by dark and trash and isolated him from anyone’s sight.

Meanwhile he fixed his suit, hair and face, while calling a cab to pick him up, Sunday kept insulting the gambler and even himself.

Sunday knew he should’ve asked you out long before all this situation, but he didn’t believe he had to do it since he didn’t think Aventurine’s competition was that dangerous. So, he preferred to wait until he believed you and him had developed a better friendship, and possibly sparked you to like him more than as a friend, a colleague or a boss.

But now, the race for your hand in marriage has started and Sunday is ready to cheat to win.

It doesn’t matter if he suffocates you with work.

It doesn’t matter if he has to kill Aventurine or the baby.

It doesn’t matter if he’ll not raise the baby without a lot of love and care.

It doesn’t even mattter if you don’t want to marry him in the first place.

He’ll win this bet.

Taglist: @komelliko @gaboplaydespacito

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it! <3

[emwallas176]

Just finished episode 3x19 (Memoria) and I have a lot of thoughts…

(Firstly, season three will just NOT give Lex a break)

Let’s recap the ep together:

- Lex agrees to have a shady scientist run experiments on him to try and regain the seven weeks he lost during his “psychotic break”

- Clark confronts him and tells him to stop (now I get Clark is concerned about his secret coming out but what the hell. Lex isn’t even trying to dig up anything about Clark at the moment. He lost seven weeks! Of vital memories! Including the fact that his own father drugged him and caused a psychotic break and locked him up in an institution and performed highly dangerous electroshock therapy on him. Clearly Lionel is a threat to Lex’s safety. And the most mind boggling part is that Clark knows all of this! Don’t you think that Lex deserves to know?? Don’t you think that not telling him is actually putting him in danger?? How is Clark justifying that with himself?? Even if he was concerned about Lex knowing his secret. Which I fully believe that Belle Reeve showed that Lex would one hundred percent keep his secret and protect him but I digress. Clark doesn’t have to tell him that bit. If he just told Lex about everything else then he wouldn’t have to go through with the procedure anymore. But he doesn’t. So Lex continues with the experiments)

- anyway, Lex has a psychotic break (again) and remembers repressed memories about his brother Julian who died when he was a baby and

SPOILERS

- turns out Lex’s mother was so terrified after witnessing how Lionel treated Lex (and was probably suffering from post-partum depression) that she goes and kills her son… horrible

- then twelve year old Lex witnesses this and covers for his mom, taking the blame! And suffering Lionel’s misplaced wrath for the next ten years (also since Lex called it a repressed memory during his confrontation with Lionel does that mean that for all these years he truly believed he killed his brother??? Bc if so….)

- also let’s not forget to mention that after getting into it with Clark Lex ends up being the one to save him from the lab after Clark is stuck in a vat of kryptonite (and is Lex thanked? No. Clark accuses Lex of becoming his father. Does he apologize for this? No. Instead he asks Lex why his father hates him so much. Clark Kent you are on thin ice young man.)

* special reminder that the episode before this while under Chloe’s truth serum, Lex admitted that the one thing he wants more than anything is his father to love him. Just in case that provides any context that absolutely breaks your heart.

* also ALSO no one even came to his fucking birthday party!!

I’m burning this whole place to the ground I swear to god. Smallville doesn’t deserve nice things. I’m going to keep Lex right here next to me until they learn to treat him better. IS THIS YOUR VILLAIN? Be fucking fr. You wish he was the villain. You stain his name to try and hide the fact that this boy has more morals and goodness inside of him than you know what to do with. I’m losing my mind.

[jibbmanifests]

“You can’t keep reacting to the 3D.”

Ah, but what if you can?

I’ve noticed there’s a lot of manifestation coaches and content creators who say you shouldn’t keep reacting to what you’re seeing in the 3D. But I beg to differ. You can very much manifest good things successfully while still reacting to your 3D. I will d*e on that hill.

Does it help not to? Sure. That indifference towards what’s going on in the 3D realm helps push your mind and thoughts away from it. But, you don’t have to force yourself to feel indifferent and completely detached.

You can feel upset over something happening in your 3D reality while still saying something in your mind like, “it’s okay. The 3D is the past reality. This isn’t my true reality.” This way, you’re allowing yourself to feel how you truly feel - you’re human, it happens - while still accepting that this isn’t your reality and believing something else to be your truth.

Imagine yourself in control of where you shift to. This scene of Squidward is a perfect visual.

I honestly feel like this is a healthier way of dealing with what you’re physically seeing. Forcing positivity onto yourself can make negative thoughts and feelings harvest. That would be using toxic positivity which is never healthy to put onto yourself or others.

After you react or feel negatively towards something you saw, saturating your mind with affirmations or visualizations is very helpful. It helps you cope with the negative emotions and thoughts. Your mind starts to believe more. Your 3D reality has no choice but to conform to what you’re telling it to be.

In my own experience, I’ve been able to manifest what I wanted even through bad reactions. When I was affirming that my platonic SP was talking to me, I still felt annoyed and unhappy with my 3D. When I was affirming my romantic SP’s help, I was just getting over crying. When I was affirming a revision, I was still frustrated. It is so easy to feel upset and that is 100% okay.

Content creator, Danielle Desautelle, acknowledges that a manifestation can form from you realizing there’s something you don’t like or don’t want in your 3D. That is so important to talk about because she is absolutely right. Let’s say you’re having a bad day. You noticing what’s going wrong because you’re feeling upset is what pushes you to manifest a better day for yourself. See how you can benefit from noticing and allowing yourself to feel negatively?

Referencing SpongeBob again, think of it like this scene. SpongeBob plants the pineapple seed into the ground. Then, he cries over it and it ends up making his house grow again. He was sad but his house still grew. You plant the seed of what’s making you sad, you allow yourself to feel sad while accepting the 3D, but you still get what you want because you see that as what’s true.

As long as you persist in believing or simply telling yourself you have what you want, it is yours. There’s no rules in law of assumption saying you can’t feel negatively or else you won’t get what you want. There’s no rules at all. LOA is simply the science of knowing what’s yours is yours. You’re limitless and figuring out what ways work best in helping you manifest is what’s most important.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 37

The Man of Your Dreams

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 6k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: Teenage Dream (Cover) ~ Fractures | Fake it ~ Holy White Hounds

Summary: Your favorite shipwright has earned his private date.

Ch. 36 Recap: Detailed recap is directly below the cut!

Author's Note: I was really nervous about this one, so I hope you enjoy it! Also, I hope my research on boats was adequate. I grew up by the ocean, but I like being on the cliffs watching the waves. I think I watched Titanic when I was too young, lol. Boats are scary 😅

Dark Content Warning: I haven't marked any dark content for this chapter, but this is the reader's date with Iceburg. If you are hesitant to read it, I've added a detailed summary of the chapter in the end notes.

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been there since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for up to chapter 1064 or episode 1093. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Hospitals, Doctors, Mental Health Treatment, Toxic Family, Childhood Trauma, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Death of an Unnamed Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

Ch. 36 Recap:

Buggy felt guilt that he wasn't telling the truth of what reader had said to her sister, but asked Crocodile if he would believe him and leave her alone if he said she was happy.

Crocodile worried about his clown, before fighting of rage at the thought that she was happy with Iceburg.

Mihawk found a smuggling ring in Doerena, and took a break from his violent hunt for information on the feed to watch his little rabbit on the screen. He thought he saw a flash of rage in her eyes, and promised to help her "paint it red."

Shanks gained an advantage in the Hunt after speaking with the Concealer. Giberson used a jamming snail to give them privacy, and offered to tell him about his competition because Giberson wanted to bet on the winning horse. Shanks learned that Iceburg and Katakuri were his toughest competition, and struggled with the fact that Iceburg didn't have much dirt on him, and didn't seem phased by his threats.

You enjoyed your date with Ichiji, but even happier to learn that your sister seemed to be enjoying time with his sister Reiju even more. You tried not to feel hopeful, but you kept finding little moments of thinking that you might end up with a decent life. Uncle Cedrick still found ways to humiliate and torture you, but all you could think of now was the date with Mr. Iceburg. You decided that you didn't care what kind of man he was. You wanted to enjoy this.

A flashback showed reader in her father's office while he spoke to Mr. Iceburg over snail. She was flustered by the praise Iceburg shared for her, and her dad suggested that they would see him soon. Iceburg reminded Arbo to wait until storm season passed.

Yonji won the next private date.

Cracker taunted the Vinsmokes until Niji retaliated, and they were both kicked out of the Hunt. Cracker encouraged reader to choose Katakuri because he likes her, and they would protect her.

Now only Yonji is left without a private date and the only Hunters left are: Shanks, Iceburg, Katakuri, Ichiji, and Yonji.

The Man of Your Dreams

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

The golden sky cleared your mind, adding to the mystical gleam of the boat that shouldn’t exist. There were no stars yet, but the redwood trees surrounding the lake seemed like a sacred chalice, ready and waiting for the night to pour in.

“You alright, girlie?”

Your own laughter brought you back, too real, too filled with awe at the beautiful dream you’d stepped into. Time was absent until you shook yourself enough to realize that you were really here.

“She’s beautiful,” you thanked your favorite shipwright.

“You know, the best way to get to know a boat is to sail her,” Mr. Iceburg hummed as he squeezed your hand, his eyes soft while he scanned your face. “Would you feel comfortable sailing Eve further out? I checked for snails already, but I’d like to get away from the noise.”

You didn’t want the real world: the old memories and fears, or the gluttonous leeches along the shore, their squeals carrying over the light breeze.

“Why didn’t you say we’d be sailing,” you scolded with a smile. His eyes warmed at your tone, and you fought not to bounce on your toes after you kicked off your heels. “The dress I almost picked would have been a pain to sail in.”

“Mm, well, it all worked out,” he laughed, making you gasp when he pulled your hand up to spin you. “This dress suits you. Now hop to it, numbers girl, our dinner will get cold if we don’t get moving.”

True laughter poured from you while you flew across the deck. Following his instructions felt so freeing, until your body sank into old movements, coaxing the light breeze to help you drift away into the center of the lake.

You couldn’t be mad at the light sheen of sweat on your skin when he helped you tie up the sails, his lovely fingers brushing a bit of hair from your face as you finished up.

“I’ll be right back,” Iceburg promised after guiding you to the cushioned bench along the stern. Thoughts crept in too fast, and you almost ran after him while you waited under the darkening sky.

Nothing’s real. Nothing matters. Just this.

“Sorry for the wait, girlie. You still like spicy food, right?”

Mr. Iceburg pushed a pretty cart between you, and your thoughts went away again while you dined, falling into laughter and light topics to keep the world at bay.

It was such a strange, sweet feeling to be here with him.

“Would you like to take a tour below deck,” he offered. Tempted.

“Yes, please.”

You were so, very eager.

Who cares if he’s a monster, a leech? I want to feel this. Something good. A daydream to keep for later when the world goes dull and dark.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

Water 7 was a shit place for devil fruit users, but if she was there, if she was happy….

Buggy could find her.

I’ll just steal my ear back. Pretend it never happened.

“What do you need right now, little clown?”

“I need her to be happy.”

Crocodile wasn’t good at this.

He could spoil people, but caring for them was strange, especially when his own rage and fear sharpened his tongue too much.  

Especially after endless hours of watching her torture projected on the wall, helpless to save his sweet girl from the past or the present.

“Do you think that Sylvad is just going to let her be happy,” the scarred man growled, eyes clenching shut at the thought of that taunting voice that had kept calling Y/N at the asylum each time she tried to face her fears.

Regret filled him while he met the tired, empty eyes of his little clown, but Crocodile couldn’t stop his own pitiful bargaining, his own worthless hopes.

“Even if she wants to be with Iceburg, Cedrick might—"

“I’ll just keep listening. Until the curtains drop.”

Buggy let out a soft gasp at the touch of a large hand pulling him close, but he allowed himself to be pressed against that chest, that warm silk such a comforting sensation now.

“She loves you, little clown,” the scarred man breathed. He would not let this be defeat.

He would not let his lovers stay broken, even if he had to break his own heart, his own mind to change this.

“Of course she does,” Buggy agreed, his voice too soft before he curled up against Crocodile, letting himself be held.

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

The cruising sailboat was large enough for the blue-haired shipwright to stand comfortably below deck and each step into the warmly lit space sped your pulse, hardly able to hear his deep voice while he showed off his work.

“It’s been a long time, but I’ve kept her maintained for you,” Mr. Iceburg shared while he guided your hand to press along the lovingly carved embellishments that seemed pulled from your dreams and fantasies. Eve seemed to have been built from your mind before you’d lost it all.

And here he was, the man of your dreams.

You hadn’t heard a word he’d said, but you knew he was talking about his work, that slow, peaceful smile on his face. His warm hand still held your wrist, pressing your hand along the counter in the kitchen area before sitting beside you on the cushioned bench.

He was here with you, and you lost yourself when he leaned close to meet your eyes.

“Y/N, I need— “

You needed this. You needed to disappear into daydreams, so you rushed, pressing your lips against his.

It was barely a kiss, but your lovely dream shattered when Mr. Iceburg pulled himself away, out of your reach on that pretty bench he’d carved.

“Whoa, hey, girlie,” he soothed. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Why?”

The parade of stupid feelings that ran through you made no fucking sense.

He doesn’t want me.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he hurried, patting you on the shoulder. “I didn’t… That’s not why I’m here.”

Humiliation followed that little heartbreak, yet something far more palatable, but far more dangerous followed close behind.

“Just here for the berry then,” you spat,” your control shattering along with that lovely dream. “Or did Uncle promise you a few forests too?”

“Well, he did say—but that’s not…”

Fuck. Stop. Don’t let him see.

“So, you’re not a monster, just a leech.”

Sick, angry laughter escaped you. Laughter that could ruin everything.

“Y/N,” the leech breathed, that deep, dreamy voice making you want to scream.

“I should have known,” you snarled, your mind still begging you to stop, to hide. “You were never his friend, were you? Just humored the rich asshole so you could line your own pockets. Is that why you never came to visit after he… Couldn’t get shit from me until now, could you?”

The boat was too small for your rage, and you pressed yourself against the wall while you shook, grinding your teeth to keep from crying.

“I am so sorry, Y/N,” the shipwright implored, his pained face making your mind ache with too many fucking things. “I should have come sooner. I knew something wasn’t right. I knew…”

Nails dug into your own forearms to stay here, but it only worked a bit. You pulled your legs up to hug them to you and huffed a laugh at the thought of the too-tight dress you’d almost worn for him.

“Mmsorry,” you slurred, eyes looking nowhere while you gave a weak smile. “Forests are nice. Everyone can be nice in a forest. We can pretend.”

“Shh, it’s okay.”

His voice was so deep.

He didn’t touch, but he was close while your head fell back, and you hummed from the thought of your favorite shipwright beside you.

“I don’t want berry, Y/N,” that voice promised such lovely lies. “I came here to help you. Please, tell me what Cedrick’s done. I know Arbo wouldn’t want this. He wanted you—”

Danger clawed you back into the world, fear reminding you that you were real.

That you didn’t have the luxury of giving in.

Clearing your throat, you noticed the crease between his brows when you shook yourself back to reality.

“Uncle Cedrick is following dad’s wishes.” You spoke clearly, and your sudden steadiness seemed to build that confusion in his eyes. “Thank you for your concern, Mr. Iceburg, but if you do not want to marry me for love, lust, or money, then you should leave. I am trying to find a husband.”

Iceburg held your gaze too long and if you weren’t still distant, you might have caved under his silent scrutiny.

“I tried to visit,” he admitted softly.

Your dream was pulling you down, dragging you into nightmares, but you couldn’t hold your face calm and beg him to stop at the same time.

“They wouldn’t—I kept asking why you were missing, why you weren’t at the funeral, or back at school. After a few weeks, I was going to report… I should have reported them.”

He came toward you slowly, stopping before touching your hand. You could barely see him through your wide eyes, lined with the sting of tears you needed to fight.

“Then they told me about the call,” Iceburg nearly choked, the pain on his face making your fingers scrape into your skin. “Cedrick and Delaine were afraid that seeing me would trigger you because he was on his way… I am so sorry, Y/N.”

Your head was shaking back and forth as part of you screamed inside your head to run, to leave, until rough, gentle fingers finally touched your hand.

“I should have kept trying, but after Tom was executed, I lost myself in my work, in keeping his dream alive.” He bowed his head while you tried to find a way to feel. Those fingers on your skin were the only anchor you could find. “I am ashamed of my cowardice. I was afraid that you would be scared of me, that you would hate me. That it really was my fault he was out there that night…”

stop please stop please stop

There was no way to make him stop, the word unable to push through the choking pressure in your throat.

“I stopped asking,” Mr. Iceburg confessed while he squeezed your hand, “until a few years ago. One of my interns got a little too drunk and said something that made me start asking again.”

“Stop,” you hissed, too soft and slow to change anything.

“Kev said he gave up the perfect girl for his dream. That he missed her, but that he couldn’t say no to—”

“No.”

Iceburg finally stopped, his gaze too heavy. Too real.

His voice was almost demanding now, distant, firm.

“What has Cedrick done, Y/N? It made sense with your trauma why you would wait a few years. Then I assumed he wanted you to finish school first, but you still haven’t taken over. Arbo told me he wanted you—”

“Dad wanted me to get married first, Mr. Iceburg,” you taunted, your voice teetering between a purr and a snarl. “Are you going to help me with that or not?”

Iceburg’s lips parted in gentle shock, and you laughed, fighting for control.

Another pause was so long that you let your head fall back against the wall while you counted the planks of wood above you, timing the numbers with your breath.

“I thought that might be it, although I found it hard to believe that Arbo would…. But it does confirm my suspicions. Cedrick paid Kev off, didn’t he,” Iceburg declared, his conviction making you cringe. “And your girlfriend? I looked for her after you broke up. I wanted to ask her what happened, to be sure.”

“I don’t,” you trailed off, wanting to run away from this stupid, real world.

“There’s no trace of her, Y/N. It’s been a year and half, and I still can’t find anything. Do you know what happened to—”

“She was fake,” you snarled now, angry laughter spilling from your lips when his eyes widened. “Kev was just weak, just a kid. Pathetic.”

“Y/N,” he soothed, but you didn’t let those lovely fingers touch yours again, clenching your fists above your thighs.

First love had his name back.

Second love never had one.

“I figured it out too late,” you laughed again, manic hate ripping through you along with your memories. “I tried to find her too. I didn’t want to believe it. I was an idiot. She was too perfect. She was everything I wanted, everything… She was a fucking con artist. Pretend. It’s all pretend!”

The voice that left your throat seemed to slice you into pieces on its way out. It felt like you would die from the effort it took not to fight, to hurt, not to let him see how broken you truly were.

“I am so sorry,” Mr. Iceburg sat back, his pity, and his hands rubbing along your shaking arms sinking you out of rage until stillness and silent tears were all you could feel.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

“I’m just going to freshen up,” you purred, pulling your hand out of your date’s insistent fingers.

“Don’t be too long,” he demanded while he snapped those fingers to get the server’s attention. “I’d like to buy you a new dress before we get to the theater. You look lovely, but that’s a little low cut for the opera, don’t you think?”

“Thank you, I’ll be right back.”

This fucker was pushing your smile to its limits, and you needed a break before you shoved his diamond-studded tie pin into his throat.

~~~⏰🌲~~~

The bathroom was a headache-inducing mix of white marble and pale pink and gold accents and probably cost more to build than your entire apartment complex. Your reflection still fit, so you calmed yourself by calculating the hours, the minutes, and the seconds until the date would be over.

It had been a while, and if you waited too long before trying, mom would start to nag you, until Uncle Cedrick would find some way to force you into another boring date with another boring leech.

“The opera will be over in about eight thousand one hundred seconds, and if it takes another half an hour to get away from him, and twenty-three minutes to get home, then that’ll be about eleven thousand two hundred eighty—”

“Wow, that sounds like a really good time.”

“Fuck, uh, sorry,” you yelped when you opened your eyes, gawking at the woman that had interrupted your pathetic whispers.

It was your server, smirking at you while she blocked the door.

“Why the fuck are you sorry?” She made a face at you, untying the long, black apron she wore over her uniform. That uniform distracted you enough that you forgot to answer, just stared at the gorgeous woman while she slinked toward you.

Men shouldn’t wear tuxedoes anymore. She owns them now; you thought with a smile.

Then your mind went blank.

“I think you deserve some fun after the shit date I just watched,” your second love tempted. She grabbed your chin, and the touch of her fingers made you gasp while she examined you. “Wanna get out of here, cutie?”

She made another face, raising a lovely brow while she dared you to say yes. There was suddenly nothing in the world but this ugly bathroom and your need to impress this stunning woman.

“Yes, but—”

“Don’t worry about that creep,” she laughed, her sultry voice sending shivers over your skin. “He won’t see us.”

Laughter bubbled out of you now, and you swallowed it down before it could echo in that marble box.

“But aren’t you working? What about your job?”

She jerked her head, motioning for you to help before responding.

“Fuck this job. You know that rich asshole didn’t even tip?”

Your second love laughed while she climbed onto the heavy side table you’d dragged below the window, and her offered hand seemed like a dream.

“Are you coming, cutie?”

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

There was a blanket over you when your breath finally calmed. Mr. Iceburg was still holding your hand, and you didn’t know how long you’d let yourself be lost.

“I’m sorry.”

“Gods, please don’t be sorry, Y/N,” he huffed a laugh, soft and sad. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see you. I wish I had been there for you. Please, let me know how I can help. How can I get you out of this?”

A sigh left you, true grief now that the real world had shattered your pretty dream.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

~~~🌲~~~

Your reflection wasn’t as horrifying as you’d expected. The makeup that had trailed down your cheeks along with dangerous tears was easy to wipe away, and your hair was already mussed from sailing, so you let it be.

Even after all of that, the piece of you that held that sweet crush won out. He didn’t want you, and you’d just fallen apart in front of him, but…

He was still Mr. Iceburg, and you wanted to look good for him.

“I made you some tea,” his voice found you before he did, his eyes pouring over you when you met him in the living area. He stood to guide you to a couch, and his gentle touch along your hair made you want to drift away, just sleep it all away.

His heat on the couch beside you felt so soothing.

Right now is good. Just be here right now.

“Girlie, I…”

That voice brought your eyes to his, but you wished that it would be light again.

“I don’t know if we’ll get another chance to talk like this. Please, tell me how to help you. Tell me how to stop him,” your favorite shipwright begged.

“Can you pretend?” It was barely a sound. You knew you shouldn’t try, shouldn’t hope. Hope could kill you, break you more than any pain. But the compassion that radiated from him was too strong to resist. “I need to get married. I know you don’t want me, but if we…” 

His frown drained the energy from you, so you let that hope go.

“There has to be a way to stop this, Y/N, let me help you.”

You smiled at him now, soft and true, deepening the frown on his concerned face.

“Thank you for trying, Mr. Iceburg, but I need you to leave. I will not leave this island until I get married.”

“Y/N, please. What has he done? I’ll help you. All of Galley-La will help you. Just tell me.”

Iceburg turned on the couch to grip your shoulders, imploring you to let him die for you. For nothing.

“Take me back,” you tried to command. You tried to protect this long-lost dream, this perfect man. A sick, selfish girl wasn’t worth the world losing someone like him, but you were weak, your Sylvad smile failing you when your voice cracked. “Please, I want to go back.”

“Girlie,” he breathed, and the touch of his hands on your face broke you down. Your favorite shipwright caught your tears again, pulling you against him while your silent grief left salt along his chest. “I will not abandon you again.”

Letting out a sigh, you enjoyed his touch for one more greedy moment before pulling yourself back.

I won’t be selfish again.

“You don’t need to feel guilty. Dad was out there because he trusted his numbers too much. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t wait.”

He held himself silent, but you didn’t give in this time, breathing out the pain in those memories.

“I am exactly where I want to be, Mr. Iceburg, and I will truly hate you if you interfere.”

“Please— “

“Thank you for the date, and for this beautiful gift,” you smiled as you stood. It was time to wake up. “I’m ready to— “

“Marry me, Y/N. I’ll do whatever it takes,” he vowed. You should have walked away, but the sight of Mr. Iceburg on his knees for you made you gasp. “I don’t want you to be forced into this, but if marrying you is the only way I can save you, then I will win this game. Please, let me take you away from here.”

It was laughable how pathetic you were, and the choked sound you let out made him grip your hands in his, chaining you to wicked hope.

It would be stupid to let hope in, to think you could be free. You were nearly broken already.

It would be stupid to reject the offer. If he really…

It was absolutely idiotic how disappointed you were that Mr. Iceburg hadn’t come here to take you, to use you, to let you disappear into lust and burn all of that stupid hope away.

“I don’t want you forced into this either,” you finally answered in a small voice. “Not if you don’t want— “

“Y/N, I would be a lucky man to have you by my side.” Your favorite shipwright let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping a bit while he gazed at you. “It only fuels my guilt. I left my friend’s child to suffer for years, and now that I finally have the courage to face you, I see that child has grown into… I failed you, girlie. I don’t deserve to be rewarded for it.”

His strong hands were still trapping yours, squeezing slightly as his last words came out in a rasp. You couldn’t understand, until a soft, dangerous hope flooded back in. There was no way to stop it, so you just braced for that naïve crush to crush you.

“I’m not a child, Mr. Iceburg,” you declared, surprised by your own wistful smile when you fought the urge to roll onto your toes. His eyes softened before you pulled your hands from his grip. “And I am not a reward.”

“Y/N, I…”

Just this moment. A little daydream.

He let you guide his hands to your cheeks, those carpenter’s fingers cradling your face. The sensation was enough to make you sigh, your knees going weak.

“Hey, girlie,” that deep voice poured over you. “I’m here. Please, tell me how I can help.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you didn’t care if you were crushed now. Something sweet, almost electric, sang through your body until every piece of you was humming.

“Marry me,” you breathed, letting him see the heat in your eyes, the need in your desperate body while you swayed beneath those rough, gentle fingers. “I want you, Iceburg. This is my choice. If you want me too, please, take me. I want you to take me, to touch me, to—"

Mr. Iceburg was kissing you.

He’d pulled you against his chest while he tasted you, so slow and thorough that your eyes rolled back. He hummed at your little noises, and the sound was so deep, it left you shaking, clutching at him until you let out a yelp.

“Oh my,” Iceburg laughed when he pulled away slightly, one of his hands on your hip to keep you steady while you stared at the little creature you’d almost crushed with your desperate fingers in that striped jacket. He held Velociraptor up to the dimmed light before smiling that perfect smile at you. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to put him in his enclosure.”

“I’m sorry, buddy,” you laughed, petting the mouse before Iceburg stood, offering you his hand once again. The smile he gave you now caught your breath, offering something that you ached to have.

“There’s one more room to see, numbers girl. Would you like to drop him off and finish our tour?”

~~~🌲~~~

Biting your lip against the urge to squeal and rush toward the cabin kept you quiet, but watching Iceburg caring for his pet made you melt.

He was just so sweet. So silly. So fucking sexy.

Oh, that crush was back.

“I hope you like it,” Iceburg gestured to the cabin. The soft lights picked up the veins in his forearm along with the carved images along the walls. “Please let me know if you’d like me to make any changes—”

“It’s beautiful,” you smiled, happy to speak the truth. The cabin was stunning, so much redwood carved into fantastical creatures in magical forests. The touch of the raised wood felt so soothing under your palms; the familiar scent of the room made you feel safe.

The berth could be two smaller mattresses, or one triangular bed. The edges were together at one point, with another triangular section that you enjoyed watching Iceburg lock into place between them before he sat on the dark, green bedding.

 “Y/N, I am going to marry you, no matter what. We don’t need to—”

“Please, don’t make me say all that over again,” you teased, stepping between his legs.

He stared at you, his eyes so heavy that you thought it was over.

“What if I want you to say it again?” Your favorite shipwright chuckled when you moaned from the sound of his voice, and his strong hands gripped your waist when you swayed. “Will you say it again for me, girlie? Tell me what you want?”

“Fuck, I…”

Iceburg left his request along your ear as he breathed you in, pulling back to watch your eyes while you tried to remember how to speak.

His eyes were dark, a look you had never seen there before.

And you wanted more.

“I want you, Iceburg, please,” you begged, shamelessly begged. He kept staring, just a bit of movement at the corner of his lips while you fell apart. “I want you to take me, to fuck me. I want…”

“There’s not enough time for me to fuck you tonight, girlie,” he broke your heart with a satisfied laugh. “But I’ll—”

“Please, Iceburg,” you scolded, trying to forget the world outside of this lovely dream. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and teased your fingers along the undercut that suited him so well. “We’re getting married, so you can fuck me as slow and thorough as you like for the rest of our days, but for right now I want you to fucking take me.”

“Mm, well,” he hummed before his rough, gentle fingers teased under your dress. He took in a sharp breath, eyes darker than ever while he rubbed over your clit, your panties already soaked from him. “If that’s what my fiancé wants, then that’s what she’ll get.”

“Fuck! Iceburg, please,” you cried out at the perfect stretch of the two fingers he’d just plunged into you, sliding around your panties with a skilled touch that made you stumble against him. He sat you on one of his thighs but never stopped.

“Come on my fingers first, then I’ll give you everything you—Mm, that’s it, girlie. Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Y/N.”

“Don’t stop,” you managed to beg while he laid you down on that bed he’d carved for you.

He helped your struggling fingers, freeing you from your clothes before stripping, and your mouth was gaping by the time he crawled up the bed.

It was Mr. Iceburg.

Naked.

“Are you sure—”

“Yes, please,” you reached for him.

Your mind went blank at the touch of that perfect cock in your hands, and the deliciously deep moan it had earned you. Then you whined, when he pulled out of your reach.

“No time for that,” Iceburg teased you, and you couldn’t take it. You melted at the touch of those hands, letting him guide you where he wanted, until he was smiling down at you between your spread legs. “But I promise you…”

“Oh gods, oh f—fuck.”

The way he was looking at you…

The way his cock felt when he teased the tip around your clit before shoving into you…

“I promise that the next time I fuck you, I will be thorough,” Iceburg threatened over your moans as he slammed his thick cock into your desperate cunt. He snapped his hips up, hitting you so fucking deep that it hurt, but he had you coming again before you could care, while you scraped your nails down the lovely, purple tattoos that graced his shoulders and arms. “I will touch and taste every little piece of you. We’ll take it nice and slow, huh, girlie?”

Iceburg pulled your hips up, those incredible fingers holding you in place so he could fuck himself into you.

“Mm, you’re going to take it slow for me tonight, aren’t you?”

“What,” you managed to choke out while he changed position.

“The wedding won’t be for another week or so.” The shipwright made your eyes roll back when he brought a thumb down to dance over your clit, making you twitch while he took you, just like you’d begged for. “So, I want my fiancé to prepare for our wedding night. I want you to play with yourself tonight and every night, nice and slow, and think about how thorough I’m going to be when I fuck my wife.”

“Ice…”

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Iceburg panted before kissing you deep, keeping you in this lovely dream. “Can I come on your pretty stomach, girlie? Mm, come one more time for me first, I know you can—So good, fuck. Right here.”

You were twitching with so much pleasure, your legs still spasming when he pulled out of you, only to press the length of that swollen cock against your skin.

It was too much. The look on his face, the praise he moaned for you, the feel of his twitching cock, and the ropes and ropes of his come that painted your skin kept you going until you went limp.

Bells rang out, far too close over the water.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Don’t worry,” your favorite shipwright hummed, already cleaning you gently, and refusing to let you get up yet. His deep voice, and light kisses sent shivers down your body, but the real world was getting louder. “I’ve got you.”

You wished you could hang onto all those feelings, but it was turning gray. It would be a lovely daydream for later, but right now, you were going numb. You had to.

“Hey, girlie,” Iceburg tugged on your hand before you could leave the cabin, and you turned to find him smiling, your locket dangling from one of his lovely hands. You nodded at his gesture, letting him wrap that chain of guilt and brightness around your throat again.

Don’t think. Stop thinking.

“Looks like we were thorough enough to lose your jewelry in the sheets,” he laughed while he took your hand to guide you back to the world. “You should probably take it off next time. I’d hate to make you lose something so pretty while I fuck my pretty wife.”

~~~🌲~~~

Such a lovely dream.

If only it could have lasted forever or destroyed the world when it ended.

You couldn’t hang onto the incredible feelings and dangerous hope your favorite shipwright had filled you with, and you couldn’t follow his intoxicating orders.

Your fingers couldn’t reach for pleasure tonight.

Instead, your fingers clung to guilt and brightness while you sobbed over too many broken dreams.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴 ~~~

His image wasn’t spread across a screen, but the Emperor of the Sea could feel the eyes on him while he lounged at a little table by the lake. He’d only had one bottle so far, but the stench of self-pity that surrounded him made him feel sicker than wine ever had.

Time to move.

He could have moved faster, but it would look like an attack.

Shanks could kill him.

The red-haired pirate was having too many thoughts.

Just move. There he is.

Iceburg had finally left that pretty sailboat after staying behind when Y/N was whisked away in a fluffy robe. Applause rang out from the drunk, disgusting leeches as she went.

Shanks could kill them all.

Not yet.

“So, what did you think,” the villain purred, tasting a hint of pleasure at the tension in his prey’s shoulders when he crept up behind him. “Your best friend’s daughter is so precious. So very sweet, huh?”

Iceburg rounded on him, only to meet his gaze, silent and judging.

“Or did you prefer her back then,” Shanks taunted, letting himself enjoy the snarl on the other man’s lips. His enemy pulled it in, so he kept pushing. “I had to try sooo hard not to break her, but she is an eager, little thing, isn’t she? Did you train her for us all those years ago?”

“Keep talking.”

Now it was Shanks’ lips that twitched into a snarl as he stood off against a wall of ice.

“I just thought I should thank you.” He fought not to choke the man that was besting him, and knew he’d have to walk away soon to keep from doing it. “I never did like them so young, but whatever you did to her worked wonders. Did you teach her that little—”

“Come on, boys, we’re all friends here.”

That sickeningly satisfied voice froze them both before Cedrick Sylvad stepped between them with his guards close behind. He gestured back toward the crowd, and toward the screens that showed off the rage in the emperor’s eyes, and the coldness in his enemy’s gaze.

“It’s so good to see how serious you both are about my dear niece,” the monster beamed. Sylvad threw his arms over their shoulders, forcing them to walk with him, to smile with him, as though they weren’t a breath away from violence. “Honestly, it warms my heart. I wonder if either of you will pierce hers.”

Y/N’s wicked uncle laughed, pleased with his game.

No matter how it ends, this man needs to die.

Shanks had too many thoughts.

~~~🔴🔴🔴 ~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Rough, gentle fingers kept catching your eyes during breakfast, but you had to stop. Just smile, pretend, the same as all the rest.

“I hope you all come visit us after the wedding,” Iceburg hummed, his confidence raising your sister’s brows, so you faked a sip of your drink before your face could betray you. “We’ve made some improvements on the old boom boat design. I’m certain they’ll speed your logging transport for some of your smaller operations, and they are quite fun to sail. Maybe we can have a race?”

“That sounds lovely, Mayor—”

“Of course,” Cedrick cut your mother off, chuckling as he leaned toward the confident shipwright. “First you need to win this race, old friend. You must have had quite the night to be so confident.”

You had schooled your features, giving your Uncle nothing but your Sylvad Smile.

 “I came here to win,” Iceburg countered, steady and pleased while he raised his glass. “Galley-La and Sylvad’s Lumber & Shipping are a perfect match, and I’m certain that Y/N and I will be the same.”

“At least your priorities haven’t changed,” Uncle Cedrick laughed as he sent you a taunting look. “Wood before women every time, huh?””

“Water 7 is always first,” Iceburg managed his own smile, schmoozing with your Uncle while he spoke with too much truth. “But I’m here to win the woman and the wood that will help me save my home. Help our island sail to safer waters.”

“Cheers,” Uncle demanded, interrupting your spiral to make you toast your favorite shipwright. “Cheers to perfect matches, good deals, and useful, little brides. Good hunting, old friend.”

Those distracting fingers snagged yours from across the table, calming your hurt from being used. Saving Water 7 was a good reason to be bought, a good price for your freedom. You wanted to pay him back for saving you, especially if last night wasn’t really a dream.

Water 7 might be your new home.

The sudden rush of storms within you made your throat dry.

Were you willing to pay the price of freedom if it came with that storm?

Swallowing down your fears was rough with that dryness still closing your throat, but you put it all away. First, you had to survive this twisted hunt.

Then you could face the storm.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: Sooo, maybe one day I'll be able to talk to humans again. This hermit mode episode is quite excessive. Thank you for all of your comments. Hopefully I'll be able to respond soon. Y'all should see my text, voicemail, and email notifications, lol. I was super nervous about this one, as the Iceburg situation could be very triggering. I hope that it didn't cause strain for anyone, but if you chose to skip it, here's a summary of the chapter. Thank you so much for reading and taking care of yourself. Please know that you are not alone, and you deserve to feel safe 💜

Chapter 37 Summary:

Reader wanted to have this date, this daydream, so she kissed her favorite shipwright, only to feel rage when he pulled away. Iceburg stated that he wasn't there for that, so she accused him of only caring about money, asking if that was why he never visited after her father died.

Iceburg confessed that he had tried to visit, that he was concerned about why reader had been missing from the funeral and school, but that he stopped asking after Cedrick and Delaine told him about her father's last call. They told him that it would be triggering for reader to see him. He stated that it made sense that reader would wait after the trauma, but as more time went on, he became suspicious since Arbo told him that he wanted reader to take over.

Iceburg was ashamed of himself for not coming sooner, but his guilt over what happened, and fear that reader would hate him kept him away, and he lost himself in work after Tom was executed. He began asking again after one of his interns drunkenly said something. Reader resisted, but Iceburg stated her first love's name, sharing that "Kev" said he gave up the perfect girl for his dream. Reader revealed that Arbo wanted her to marry before taking over, and Iceburg shared his suspicions that Cedrick paid Kev off.

Iceburg looked for reader's girlfriend after they broke up a year and a half ago, but there was no trace of her. Reader stopped him from saying her name, and said she had looked for her too, only to realize that she was a con artist. A flashback of the reader meeting her second love showed reader stuck in a boring date, and her second love helping the reader go have some fun, offering to help her climb out of a bathroom window. Reader was enamored with the gorgeous woman that called her "cutie."

Reader felt Iceburg didn't want her but said she wouldn't be leaving the island without being married. When he resisted, trying to find another way, reader decided to let him go and told him it wasn't his fault her dad died. She didn't want to get him killed, but Iceburg declared that he would marry her.

After reader said she didn't want him to be forced into this, Iceburg shared that he would be lucky to have her but expressed his guilt. Iceburg said he failed her, and shouldn't be rewarded for it.

Reader realized what he meant, and declared that she was not a child, she was not a reward, and that this was her choice. She expressed her desire for him, and they spent the rest of the date being intimate, while reminding each other that they were going to be married in a week or so.

As the date ended, Iceburg saw that reader's locket had fallen off in the bed, and suggested she take it off next time. After the date, reader couldn't hold onto the good feelings she'd felt that night. Instead, she held onto her locket and cried.

Shanks waited for Iceburg and taunted him about being with the reader in the past. The heavy tension between the two hunters was interrupted by Cedrick wrapping his arms around their shoulders, stating that they were all friends.

During breakfast, Iceburg shared his confidence and described them as a perfect match along with their companies. Cedrick laughed and accused Iceburg of caring about wood before women, but Iceburg said he cared about Water 7 first, and that he was here to win the woman and wood that would help him save his home.

Reader realized with fear that if she did marry him she would move to Water 7, but knew she had to survive the hunt before she could face the storm.

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Chapter 38

This world is hard, and finding ways to help can be overwhelming. Operation Olive Branch is a volunteer, grassroots effort committed to the collective liberation of all peoples, and they prioritize transparency and community. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of fundraisers, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

(part i)

And here we are back for the second part of Day One! I would tell you that absolutely no drama happens at all, but they say that the best lies stick as close to the truth as possible, and well…

Once Lilac and Forest return home, Lilac wastes no time at all in flirting with Caden over the piano. Caden must be an extremely understanding pixel, as he likes piano playing and - unlike Lilac - actually has a little skill in it.

Just as the three (Caden having accurately singled out Giovanna as the one other token sane pixel of this household) are settling in for a nice chat, Guess Who Don’t Sue (Spencer) shows up.

He starts off with a seemingly innocuous ASK ABOUT DAY to Lilac, but we all know what he’s really digging for.

Caden (who has been Spencer’s housemate since the first round and therefore a decent amount of time to observe him, especially as his Number One target) then calls him out for spying. Spencer is aghast. He would never.

Well…

0/10 for subtlety, my guy.

Understandably Caden is a wee bit pressed about this, and our previously proper gentleman even lets loose some FORBIDDEN WORDS over dinner, which appalls GOOD MANNERED Giovanna...

...and also Spencer, who got him into such a state in the first place.

(Forest is likely giving Spencer a thumbs up on the inside, as this move is simply diabolical 🤭)

Though Lilac likewise also found this funny on the inside, she does take pity on Caden and attempts to calm him down. He vents about Spencer but manages to enjoy some flirtation towards the end.

(And also gets a case of Dodo Brain.)

We thought that Baarry White should be around to help Lilac keep a lid on things, so here he is.

Lilac apparently only had one woo-hoo left to give today, as for once that’s not what kicks off a late chore montage hour. Our outdoorsy duo Giovanna and Forest take care of the animals and fishing respectively, while Spencer and Briar are our gardeners. 

Briar enjoys what must have been a good chat with Lilac, as she gained the adoring sentiment towards our bachelorette.

So long as she enjoys their company, Lilac tends to give her nearest and dearest more leniency than GOOD traited Araminta. However she does feel some duty of care towards participants and asks Spencer if he’d consider going easier on Caden.

Spencer however has one condition, and that one condition is…

...bed cuddle.

(I’ve just been letting the Sims sleep wherever this round, and evidently he’s claimed the right side of Lilac’s bed as his own.)

You’d think this would mean Caden’s night was a little easier, and yet.

Tomorrow is another day, my guy.

(rolls)

@jonquilyst @mdshh @riverofjazzsims @ravingsockmonkey @akitasimblr

[dykedvonte]

I think about the fact Anya locking herself in the infirmary with Curly to kill herself and how it is in way reclaiming a space that was initially hers from Jimmy.

Not to mention how she must've been aware of Jimmy's obsession with Curly and the idea that he would lose his power over the both of them (based on the fact she likely thought they would never get the door open) and having to face the responsibility of two deaths being on his hands as acting captain.

It was her final act of agency stuck on that ship with her abuser and it says something that she chose to die next to Curly, despite his inaction, leaned against him as if they were just in a casual conversation before her death. Despite everything, Anya made the final decision on her own terms and it speaks volumes considering her treatment and demeanor up until that point.

[rametarin]

Bear in mind that it isn't just about the mewling of idiots. It's not the individual crowing about how a bunch of Jewish people and random white people are "definitely Nazis" for just being white guys that aren't hard-left.

It's the impressionable young people they're TRYING to shape the perceptions of, telling them if they're even suspected to be Nazis, the good right-thinking people will vilify and subject them to mob violence and ignorance for even accusing them of Wrong Think, that they're on thin ice for being white or not being white and not being full on the bandwagon that "the Nazis are just around the corner so it's okay to act violent and irrational and act as if it's true."

They're trying to silence young people into incentivizing them to give the benefit of the doubt to the people screaming about how THEIR people are, "erring on the side of compassion, justice and humanity" by choosing to spin everybody that isn't sipping their ideological kool-aid as an extremist, not them. And once so accused, the accused have the burden to DISprove it in their eyes. And if you're white, and male, in their hierarchy of privilege theory, you're pretty much persona nongrata no matter how the discussion goes.

It's the political thought space intended to ensnare the young and force them to suss out who is telling the truth and who isn't, and using their status as minors to punish them for having any opinion but the one the state sanctions, while pretending they're the plucky youth underdogs oppressed by society, a society they characterize as Western European hegemony and hatred and white supremacism and male chauvinism and cisheteronormic judeo-christianity.

Just the same way the Russians got on the UN security council stage and narrated how the idea Russians were invading Ukraine was a farcical lie invented by the western-european supremacist, Russophobic west, that Russia would never do that, that such a thing was baseless accusation.... CONCURRENTLY TO THE INVASION OF UKRAINE. This self-aggrandizing, this histrionics, this revisionist history, this shaping of narrative they are trying to do to get worried sycophants give them the benefit of the doubt and play along.

This is who they're trying to convince this is the truth. That's why they and the media won't shut up about it and keep harping on it. It's as much a silencing tactic as it is an attempt to headfuck the youth opinion, like a bitter ex-wife that won the custody battle turns the hearts of the kids she won in the divorce against their father.

banned from a sub for "spreading misinformation" for responding to the following post:

Did you see the clip? The dude reached deep into his chest to pull that nazi salute out from his heart. With full bounce for Hitler.

with

I saw the clip. Did you? Because he reached deep into his chest to perform a "throwing my heart to you" gesture. You just assigned nonsensical Nazi significance to everything that showed it wasn't a Nazi salute because you need it to be because you need to be maximally angry 100% of the time. Was "reaching into your chest to pull it out of your heart" a part of the Nazi salute? Was "a full bounce for Hitler" part of the Nazi salute?

the same thread in which this occurred is also talking about banning Facebook because Mark Zuckerberg is also a Nazi but better at hiding it. Mark Zuckerberg. The Jewish guy. Is a secret Nazi.

Like, not "has the Bad political opinions." This is specifically about a Nazi gesture for Nazis particular to Nazis and the specific Nazi ideology and the specific Nazi beliefs that supposedly indicates someone believes the same things as the literal Nazis. And Mark Zuckerberg is a Nazi.

These people do not understand anything about the Nazis other than that they are permitted to hate them. They don't care about reality and don't think. They don't care about consistency or making sense. They just shriek at everyone who isn't their politics for the crime of not being their politics. They are inexhaustible and everywhere. They will not stop and will not be stopped. There is no incursion of reason or observation or making sense or human cognition that can ever impede them in any way. They are strange matter that cannot be impeded by matter. Nothing you can possibly do can possibly ever, ever, under any circumstance, stop them, because they have absolute transactional immunity to all human interaction. And they are entitled to power because they shriek. And they are entitled to annihilate because they shriek. And they are entitled to shriek because they shriek. And they cannot ever be stopped by any means. And they only grow more powerful and never grow less powerful. And nothing they ever do can ever possibly under any circumstance cause them to lose power or influence. And nothing they ever do can ever possibly under any circumstance cause others to stop extending them infinite charity and infinite second chances.

And the answer I have gotten so far for how this does not cause people to want to kill themselves is "don't think about it."

[novelmonger]

The first time I watched The Wild Robot, a cynical part of me was skeptical when all the animals set aside their instincts and started working together. What are the predators going to eat if not the prey animals? This isn't Zootopia, where they can go to the grocery store and buy vegan burgers or whatever. The movie had already established very bluntly that some animals eat other animals, so they can't just brush something like that under the rug, right?

I was willing to suspend my disbelief, though. It's a kids' movie about talking animals; even with the dark humor peppered throughout the movie, they weren't going to have these lovable characters literally eat each other, and that's okay. There are plenty of other movies that do the same. And it's not really the point of the movie anyway, so fussing about it is just going to ruin a good time.

But as I thought about it later, I suddenly remembered that passage from Isaiah 11:6-9:

The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together; and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the cobra, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder's den. They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain, for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.

In other words...the state of the island at the end of the movie is the way things are supposed to be. The way they will be in the end. Predator and prey living together, their young lying down in safety together (like they do in Roz's hut), no longer hurting or killing each other.

The island at the beginning of the movie is the way it is, full of death and fear, because of the Fall. The animals' very nature has been corrupted so they are incapable of seeing the possibility of life without killing and hunting. Until someone from the outside comes and shows them a better way. Someone who dies because of love, comes back to life because of love, and eventually leaves with the promise of returning one day. And now that island is forever changed, a model of the heavens and earth that is to come.

[worstloki]

Natasha/Loki not for the romance but for the devastating attempt at mind games and the excessive internal monologue they would both have when trying to manipulate the other into the real-fake relationship.

[dootznbootz]

Odypen definitely and equivalently adore each other BUT I weirdly can't see them as the type to actually say "I Love you".

They still definitely vocalize their love for each other but it's more so in "My Joy", and "Extraordinary Woman", "Strange Woman/Man", etc. And very cheesy lines (both say some cheesy shit in the Odyssey, and he definitely does in the Iliad as well. "Joy like a drowning sailor seeing land" bit???)

I could see "I adore you" but even then, that's probably during very specific moments but the actual "I love you"??? I just typed it just now for fic shit and... It weirdly just didn't feel right and I don't know why. 😅

Idk maybe it's kind of because I see them as over the top in ways, they love wordplay and riddles and I think they'd almost think "...That's not good enough >:( " about it??? I don't know???😂

[maabelasdaruth]

The worst part for Amelin is that she uses the breakup in Crestwood to tell him the truth and try and convince him he doesn't need to destroy the world she's come to love. She already knows he's Fen'Harel, she knows what he'll do if she keeps to the path of choices the games gives her. She's spent over seven years in this world making the choices to bring herself to this glade and him. She's been the person the world needed, their Inquisitor and shaped the world into something she thinks will help. But the person she most wants to save is Solas from himself. She became the person who would change the world for him. She wanted him to feel the world change. She wanted to be the thing that caused everything to change for him. At first it was about saving her clan from annihilation but his salvation has become more and more important to her.

She's in love with him!

The way you fall for someone who you know will probably hurt you but he is just so beautiful and full of hurt that she knows she could help heal if he would just let her. The way his presence feels like oxygen to the drowning. Of course she leaves the path for him! She should let him go here without a word of truth passing between them if she was to follow the game's story path, but she cannot do that. She wants to be loved! She wants to be known fully! She wants to know him fully! She wants him to know that she could love all of him. She wants to show him a path that isn't death and destruction. She wants truth from him.

She WANTS and it damns them both.

I love hearing how Solas is particularly devastating for individual Lavellans as a Solasmancer. Like everyone is so inventive and unique with the ways they write the Solavellan breakup.

For my Lavellan, Athim, it’s devastating because they are not a soft person. They aren’t gentle or sweet but they are the kind of person who will do their best not to get blood on you. Athim learned to be softer because they saw that’s what Solas needed. And a little bit because they liked the softer person they were around him.

And then he tells them to “harden your heart to a cutting edge” like what the hell? They showed their soft underbelly and he stabbed them.

[rwby-confess]

Confession #170

[vile-wizard]

Finally watched the MLB London special.

[ourladyoftheflytrap]

My mom always complaining about how I never spend time with her.... ma'am the last time we had a serious conversation you told me you thought i was making traumatic memories of my childhood up just to demonize you

[luckhissoul]

she's left him. she's moved past him and now stands at the center of the room. the lights play off of her in an array of colors, reds and golds. all brilliantly gathered together around her. her pale skin is still flushed from the drinking. had she drank a lot? he has to wonder. he has to consider. but it's hard to think when she's so blinding standing there in front of him. like a weight on his chest that just wants to crush. he tells himself to look away but then she's talking. the bottle is cold in his hands. but it's not the reason for the chill that seems to run through his whole body when she starts to talk again. soft, like a light prickling sensation through his whole being. he wishes she wouldn't.

she lifts her hand. he holds his breath. was he really that pathetic? but he seems all too aware of everything that she's doing. even if it's simply just her pushing her hand back through her hair. it doesn't do much, in fact it makes her curls fall a little looser in her face now. she looks a little undone, doesn't she? not at all all made up and proper like she usually is. he lets out the breath he took, shaky, feeling terribly unsteady. he wants to rage about it. but looking at her then his mind is completely blank.

what was he waiting for? had she really asked him that. the challenge in her tone probes at him. it could mean a million different things, couldn't it? could she really be asking him to do something that they both now he shouldn't? the image is vivid in his head, too vivid, too real. it's dangerous just sitting here suddenly. it wasn't supposed to be like that. coming here had felt like something if a reprieve. but now he felt like it was something that he ought to run from, something to hide from. only he doesn't do much by way of any of that. he simply looks up at her.

he feels the weight of all of it in his chest. he considers taking another drink. dismissing her as some foolish girl. that's what she's being, isn't it? a bloody foolish girl. and she might even hate him a little bit if he told her that. elayne didn't like hearing the truth about things like that. it would be the easiest thing in the world to brush it off, another pull on the bottle, a laugh. wouldn't that be the better thing to do anyways? and then he could just leave the room. maybe he wouldn't sleep very good tonight. tossing and turning and what - ? thinking of her?

blood and ashes, but that was the most mad thing that he had ever thought. he wants to shake himself of it. but she's looking down at him now, and he's looking back. she's right. the bet had been pretty amateur. there were a million other things that the two of them could get up to here. alone in this room together, sharing a bottle. his mind is restless, something he can't seem to control. burn it all what's the fun in controlling it anyways? and what did it matter? they always seemed to end up here anyways, alone, together. was that reason enough to throw caution to the wind?

well, he had never being a cautious person. that much was true. he had never done much of anything to keep a steady even path. he liked to try his hand at risks. he liked to jump in blindly. luck, that had always been something he was about tt o get his hands on. so why not now? see where the dice fell? see what laid n store for him in those wide blue eyes. they seemed to toy with him so effortlessly, probing him to do something stupid.

he had been different lately. the world had shifted and mat felt as if he had been forced to do the same. shift into something else, react differently, do differently. always bloody busy, preoccupied with building something he had never wanted to be apart of. it was all so much. elayne would go on about how it was all worth it. but light help him, it was exhausting. mat cauthon had never been cut out for saving the world. this was more his style. getting drunk with a pretty girl and forgetting about the world for a while.

elayne told him once or twice that she wasn't surprised that he was there to help. seemed like a bad joke, to think that she could change her mind about him. he remembered her begrudged thanks in ebou dar, sometimes that was an easier pill to swallow. sometimes he didn't know how to respond when she treated him like he was her friend. being on her good sign felt like it only caused him more trouble than it was worth. but what about this? what side was this? certainly one he had never seen before. one he's sure he might not see again. so where was the harm in making the most out of it?

he sets down the bottle. it feels like something final. just setting it down on the ground beside him. are her eyes on him still? he's looked away briefly, if only to try and get his wits about him again. only it seems to fail. because when he looks at her he's not thinking straight. burn it all, he doesn't seem to be thinking at all. he just moves to stand up. not feeling as unsteady as he thought he'd be. it'd be a lot easier to write off if he was a lot drunker than he knew he was right then. it all comes without plan, but too much thinking. only he's sure no one would be able to tell.

now that he's standing before he considers taking her in his arms. it's a startling thought. it's the first time any thinking got that far. landing him in trouble he hasn't gotten into just yet. he can see himself take her up in his arms, no thinking, no words. just her close to him. she had never been that close to him. but it seems that he can feel her almost, the soft lines of her body pressed against him. but he doesn't do it. he feels frozen suddenly. stuck. and it's as much of a disappointment as it is a relief. but he does reach for her, taking her hands in his. caution comes into play, but it's not as much as he's sure it should be. because he still lifts her hands, letting his lips brush over her knuckles. the contact of her soft skin grazing his lips is too much. is something he shouldn't know. "i think you'd regret it." but he doesn't let go of her hands.

Was there any boundaries between them right now? She almost hoped that maybe there weren't. That was a ridiculous thought. It was a betraying thought considering everything. Mat was someone who should be kept on one side of the line and she should linger on the other. That was the way of things, wasn't it? That was the way that things had been for a long time. She was somewhat uncertain if those spots even existed where she was standing. Could she when she was hte most bare that she had been in her entire life? What did he see when he saw her? That was a lingering question that she couldn't put into words.

His hand brushes her skirts and she feels it shiver up along her spine. She's not sure why she felt it when he hadn't even touched her. He had been closer to her before, far more than he was now. But that feeling had coursed through her and she hadn't contained it either. Maybe that should have been some kind of a sign considering everything that had happened. But what had happened except for boredom? This was because of boredom, wasn't it? Boredom and absolute loneliness. She had been lonely for far too long, it seemed like.

The room was too quiet, maybe that was why. Maybe the silence was something that was building between them, and making things far more tense than they should be. Were they tense, though? Could they be explained that way? She would have preferred to look into his eyes and feel like there weren't any burdens resting there on her shoulders, weighing her down until she could only see the ground beneath her. But what were the burdens called? What could she define them as? Were they written off as Mat Cauthon and nothing more?

The lull, as brief as it was, gave her a moment to study him more than she already had. The brown of his eyes, the glisten of the drink on his lips from the bottle that he had taken a couple of drinks from. She had to wonder if he was feeling the same things that she was or maybe he was just playing into the scheme of the game, laughing at her and her attempt at seeming entirely different than she actually was. That didn't seem to be something that he would do but he was mischievous, and Elayne found it interesting even if she shouldn't be allowing it.

There were a number of things that she shouldn't allow. The closeness of them standing there, the way that his hand intimately skimmed her skirts, that bloody look in his eyes. She shouldn't be allowing any of it. They shouldn't even be on the same level, not at all. He was The General of the Light, of course, but she was the Queen! The Queen! There was no way that something like that was just overlooked by him. And it wasn't something that she should just be overlooking either. Yet here she was, doing just that, rather shamelessly too.

A smile came across her lips and she looked at the bottle that he was holding and eventually a soft laugh came from her. "Is that what you're going to do?" She questioned with a lift of her brows, canting her head some to the side as she studied him, teasing him just as much as he was. Maybe she was laying it on far too thick. "Destroy me with that? Drinking as much as you are?" He was going to think that she was being foolish but she didn't much mind that.

Regretting the loss of his hand skimming her skirt, she brushed past him so that she could move to the center of the room, the soft midnight light coming in through the windows. She turned around to face him, her skirts flouncing just a little bit - maybe she did that on purpose simply so that the deep colors could catch the lights. She turned where she was standing and then faced him, smoothing her hand down over her bodice as she looked into his eyes. Light, but she reveled in the way that he was looking at her.

"That sounds a bit amateur, doesn't it?" She asked, stifling a soft laugh from coming from her. She lifted her hand and gestured towards the bottle there in his hand. "I just thought that maybe you would be able to do something without me getting to drink the way that you do." Now she injected her gaze with expectancy, biting down on her bottom lip as she looked between his eyes. "You always prided yourself on being something of gambling man, don't you?"

Lifting her hand, she pushed her fingers back through the curls of her hair, pushing it back over her shoulders as she held his eyes. He was somehow everything to her in this moment. This was the only feeling that existed. She wanted him to accept this challenge, she wanted him to come closer, she needed him to stay away. Her heart was racing in her chest, something like an ache filling her. He shouldn't accept it, but it was somehow the one thing that she needed from him. Would he know that? Would he give that to her where heart needed it, where her loneliness was eager for it?

"So, what are you waiting for?" She asked, dropping her hands to her sides as she waited on him. Something like bated breath filling her, uncertainty threading through her. She felt nervous, vulnerable even, and somehow she knew that he was the only one that she had ever let herself feel this way for. That should have created a knot of betrayal inside of her but it wouldn't come, no matter how much she willed it to. She simply held his gaze, straightened herself, and tipped her chin, filling herself with all of the composure that she needed. "Gamble."

[symbioticsimplicity]

Y’all what if Lilith didn't choose to take a vaycay in Heaven? What if she got redeemed?