#yee boost

[honeyvenommusic]

damn that Allie X shirt came QUICK 😮‍💨

[driver-of-the-aegis]

I want May 5th of 2025 to be known as Yee Day. Yee. Why? Because Y is the 25th letter, and E is the 5th letter. So 5/5/25, while not quit spelled forward, is Yee. Yeeeee. Spread this shit like wildfire. I want this going viral and not for my sake. I just think Yee is really funny.

[yeetmythoughts]

this morning after i did that i imminently fixed it by talking it out w my brother and my mom. we all good.

now i gotta worry ab how i’m going to take my meds tonight bc i tried taking them w a banana and my body did not like that and was like: ewie get that out of me :( *bleghfhgj*

so the meds i took are no longer in me and i gotta wait a bit to let my stomach settle whatever it’s going through. bruh lemme eat my bananas. maybe my body doesn’t like me eating solely bananas? idk.

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Initiation

Woe, backstory be upon yee

Mild Egghead Island spoilers (I'm talking like, episode 2 of the anime arc, super early)

WC: ~13k (sorry, I promise they won't usually be this long!)

Day 0

You were already exhausted by the time you made it to the secluded back end of the island where the Victoria Punk was anchored. It wasn't docked since there was no dock in the area, just anchored a little ways off shore as close as the pirates could get it without running it into the sand bank, but several small dinghy were pulled up on the sandy shore waiting for the pirates to use. Even from the beach though, you could judge the size and style of the ship, appreciating what looked like a large dinosaur skull mounted at the front in lieu of a figurehead, the matching rib bones lining the sides and the large black flag that hung from the main mast, painted with a jolly roger that resembled Kid. Humble.

Several trips back and forth had already been made with the supplies looted from the marine compound, the ship bursting at the seams with loot. With the last of it finally set on the boats, the pirates began pulling them out to the water, paddles in hand to make the short trip to the main ship.

You weren't exactly keen on being tied to the mast of the ship for a week, but you figured it was better than some of the hazing you'd heard other pirates go through, and it sure beat the various cold dark cells you'd spent the last several years in. Considering you were a woman, about to board a ship full of men, it could always be much, much worse. You'd managed to at least down four (and a half, you still mourned your dropped one) apples and a banana you'd scavenged from some of the crates being moved after the battle, getting as much food in as you could on the walk to the ship. It at least meant you had a small reset to work with after being near starved for longer than you could recall. It was only a week you'd be starved at the mast, barely anything compared to what you’d been through, and once it was over, you would be free.

You'd spent most of your life under the firm, possessive thumb of the world government, moved from marine base to marine base, constantly under the guidance of abusers who got a kick out of controlling someone they knew to be more powerful than themselves. It boosted their ego, even if you were a scrawny woman - they knew the power you held, and it swelled their pride to dominate you. They never really cared about you as a person, only your ability to kill, and when you'd failed to become the obedient dog they wanted you’d been discarded without a second thought. You knew Kid was the same, the only leverage you had with him was as a weapon, but at the very least he had promised not to touch you, and you’d put yourself in a strong position right from the get go to prove to him that you weren't to be messed with. It was a fresh start for you, you would finally have a taste of freedom, away from the people who had beaten and abused you.

The fact that it came under the guise of being a pirate was no bother to you - you enjoyed killing, but you were also undoubtedly lazy. If you followed the Kid Pirates you could kill all you wanted without having to deal with the repercussions or figuring out how to escape on your own, and you'd have the added benefit of a protective buffer between you and the marines who would no doubt come looking for you when they learned of your escape. This crew had a reputation for being bloodthirsty and ruthless, and they knew what you could do, so you knew you would find no judgment here. And if pirates were known for anything, it was hating the marines and the world government, a sentiment you wholeheartedly shared. You would fit right in here.

As you approached the water's edge you adjusted the dial on your helmet, the visor shifting from a dark purple to a more vibrant, richer blue. You scanned the ocean with your eyes, now able to see under the dark waves with your enhanced vision, and once you were happy with the lack of seakings visible you shifted it back to the purple. Killer quirked an eyebrow at you, not that you could see it under his mask, watching you with curiosity before returning his attention to pulling the boat nearest to your group out to the water. He made a mental note to ask you about the mask's functions later.

Once the dinghy was floating in the water, the last stragglers of the crew began to jump in, and you hesitantly waded into the water behind them, feeling yourself grow weaker as the water raised above your knees and soaked the ends of your marine issue shorts, before Kid, growing impatient, grabbed you under the arms and lifted you into the small boat. You made a small huff but settled yourself on the thin seat between him and Killer. You were somewhat squished between the large men, it was just as well you were skinny, and you leaned forward to ensure your mask would not be damaged as they began to row away from the shore.

It was funny, as you watched the marine base sink away from view, you wondered how long you had even been here. Well, not here specifically, you knew you'd only been at this base a few weeks. More like, how long you'd been a prisoner. It was hard to tell the passing of time when you'd spent so much time in windowless cells, when they never consistently gave you meals, and with the lack of nutrition even your period was inconsistent, so that was no help in keeping track of time either. The commodore having you brought to his office was the only real signifier of time passed that you had to go off, guessing he probably sent for you every couple of days, sometimes more often.

They usually moved you between bases on a monthly basis, but sometimes it seemed like you spent only weeks at a base, sometimes multiple months. It'd been so long since they discarded you that you weren't even sure how old you were anymore. If you had to guess, you'd say 25, but really you didn't know for sure. You weren't even sure when your birthday was, you'd been really young when you got your devil fruit and it had destroyed any cognitive power you had for a long time.

The boat you were on was the last to pull up alongside the Victoria Punk, with the other ones already in the process of being unloaded and hauled up to the deck for storage. You had no intention of climbing the rope ladder that had been thrown down, given your arms were currently so weak, so you stood and quickly moon stepped the short distance up to the main deck. Exhausted, you laid down and sprawled out on the wooden surface like a starfish, taking advantage of the ability to lay flat while it lasted before you were inevitably tied to the mast, enjoying the warm sunlight you had been so direly missing. At least that was one advantage to being tied to the mast, you hadn't had fresh air in so long that you probably would have spent the next few nights out on the deck by choice anyway. you were looking forward to seeing the stars.

A shadow loomed over you, and you grumbled at the sudden lack of warmth as you opened your eyes. Kid was standing over your head, upside down from your point of view, looking down at you with an annoying smirk on his painted lips. You let out a deep sigh and sat up, before standing with a huff and walking to the main mast. You didn't have to be told, you knew what was coming. You slid down against it, landing on your ass with a pout as one of the commanders, Heat, you recognized from his bounty poster, brought over a heavy reel of thick rope.

Most of the crew watched with curiosity as Heat tied you to the mast, wrapping the rope around you and the thick wooden pole several times, pinning your torso and arms against it before knotting it well out of your reach. The crew knew well what that meant, that you were on trial to become a new crewmate, and you would be there for seven days just as they all had. If you were just a prisoner you would have been taken straight to the brig, and definitely bound with seastone. If you were a guest, you'd likely have been taken straight to Kid's room. The fact that you put up no fight also made it obvious that this was by choice. They'd never inducted a woman before and an excited, slightly confused buzz of conversation arose from the crew as they watched you wiggle, testing the limitations of your restraints, before finally settling in and stilling.

“Seven days, little one,” Kid told you, crouching so his face was close to yours. He gave you a smug grin, and you returned it with your own playful smile, ready and willing for what would be an easy ordeal for you. He knew it too, given it was clear you were used to being starved, but it wouldn't be fair to the rest of his crew if he didn't at least put on a show of initiating you, and it would ultimately help you earn the respect of his crew. Before standing upright again he unhooked the holster from your thigh, pocketing the dagger. You growled a warning at him when his touch lingered on your skin, before he smirked and finally stood.

“See you in seven days then, Captain,” you yawned, squirming a little to get comfortable then closing your eyes, resting your head back against the mast to sleep. You were desperate for a nap after using what little strength you had left on your Meteor Wave, and it's not like there was anything else for you to do now that you were tied to the mast. You had all the time in the world to take in your surroundings and eye up the crew, for now what you wanted was some rest.

“Alright pussies,” Kid announced to his crew, standing tall and proud after a successful day, to which they all silenced their gossiping and turned to attention, “this here is Yin. She's the reason we came to this island, and will be a powerful asset for us in the future. She's agreed to join the crew, under some annoying conditions, but I don't want to hear a single complaint about it from you assholes. She's worth the strength of a thousand men, so you will treat her with respect. And under no circumstances will you touch her without her permission. Keep your tiny dicks in your pants or I'll cut them off and feed ‘em to you. Do I make myself clear?”

There was a murmur of aye aye captain’s before Kid dismissed them to finish their preparations to leave the island. There were still a few tasks left for him to do, like checking what his crew had looted and getting the report on how many men were injured or killed during the battle. You were already deep asleep by the time the anchor was raised, long since fallen victim to your exhaustion. Kid and Killer watched you sleep from a distance, a million questions in their heads, but most of all both confused that; one, this scrawny, irritating thing was the powerful weapon they'd been hunting for, and; two, this outwardly innocent, sweet looking girl was sleeping without a care in the world, like you weren't tied to the mast of the notorious Kid Pirate's ship, and like they hadn't just watched you massacre hundreds of strong men and laugh about it. Not to mention the commodore, that was a whole other bag of worms.

They of course realized you had some sort of devil fruit, and they could guess by your tattered marine uniform that you had at some point been a government dog, but the fact that they'd found you half starved in a dark cell raised a multitude of questions. The government had been careful to move you often, likely to keep you from people like Kid, but you had clearly been discarded by them at some point. Their best guess was that the fruit itself was too dangerous to bring back into circulation, so they'd kept you alive to keep that power from becoming available to anyone else. Killer was also sure that ‘Yin’ wasn't your real name, but that didn't seem of much consequence right now. He guessed you must be close to his age, though it was hard to tell under the layers of grime and blood, your cheeks and eye sockets hollowed from being emaciated.

Neither of them brought up what you'd done to them after the battle, and as soon as it seemed like it had been long enough to not raise suspicions from the crew, they both left the deck to retreat to their rooms, anxious to shower and change into clean clothes.

Day 1

You slept for what you assumed was likely around fifteen hours, it seemed like it was about late afternoon the next day when you were woken by a splash of water on your bare thigh. A cabin boy startled near you as he noticed your head raising, apologising profusely and scampering away with his bucket and mop before you could even register what had happened. You blinked the sleep from your eyes, thankful for the tinting effect of your visor in the bright afternoon sun.

It didn't take long for you to notice the masked blonde sitting across from you, resting against a wall with crossed arms and crossed legs, watching you carefully. You cocked your head at him, and he stood, closing the space between you with just a few long strides, and standing over you. The ominous looming was probably supposed to be intimidating, but you couldn't help but blush at the fact that you were eye level with his dick. You did your best to crane your head to look up at him anyway.

“The captain has some questions for you,” he said plainly. His long blonde hair flitted gently in the wind behind him, and you wondered how a pirate kept so much hair so well maintained.

“Okay…” you mumbled blearily, looking around and noticing a distinct lack of said captain, “is he going to ask them then or…?”

“He's busy,” Killer snapped, “so I'll be asking them”

“Yesh, okay mister grumpy-mask,” you grumbled, pulling up your legs so they were crossed in front of you, “go ahead then”

Killer looked away for a moment to catch the eye of a passing henchman, giving him a quick nod that the man clearly understood. The henchman quickly brought over a chair, positioning it a metre or so in front of you before scurrying away. Killer took a seat and leant back on the chair, crossing his arms and scanning you with his eyes.

“What sort of devil fruit do you have?” was his first question. You weren't surprised, it seemed like the most obvious question.

“Ah, straight into the complicated questions,” you sighed. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain it, “it's called the wave-wave fruit. As in, wavelengths. Not like… ocean waves. It's more microscopic than that. How much do you know about physics?”

“Some, enough probably, what sort of wavelengths?” he asked.

“All of them, I think,” you replied, a little confused at your own answer, and quickly working on rephrasing it, “I mean everything I know of that's measured in wavelengths I've been able to manipulate to some degree. Some are harder than others, but I have some control nonetheless. Vibrations are easiest, I can use them at a smaller scale, like molecules, speeding up or slowing the vibrations to increase or decrease temperature. Or at a larger scale, like what you saw me do on the battlefield, creating shockwaves of vibrations”

“And that's what you did to the commodore? Heated and cooled him?” Killer inquired, starting to piece things together.

“His blood, specifically, but yeah. The wall I used to keep us clean was also vibrations, it wasn't actually solid, it's just that the air was vibrating so fast that nothing could get past it. Like a really strong wind.”

Killer nodded, stroking the scruffy goatee that poked out from under his mask. “Okay, so what else? You said there were others.”

“Yeah, the others I don't use as much because they're either more difficult or not as useful. Sound is easy, I can replicate sounds with relative ease. Single sounds like replicating a lone instrument or a voice or animal call are easier than replicating a whole song. Light is tricky but doable. Every colour you see is a different wavelength of light, so by manipulating the wavelength I can change the colours. Not super useful but it makes for a fun lightshow when I'm drunk. Before I was locked up I was working on using it to create mirages of myself, but it's early days for sure.”

To emphasize your point you closed your eyes in concentration, and a life sized version of you appeared in the space between you and Killer. It was faint, and wobbling, like a broken hologram. You weren't able to hold it for long before you let out a heavy exhale and the clone disappeared.

“The last thing I know I can control is electromagnetic waves, but I can only do it at a very small scale,” you continued, “it's enough to manipulate the electricity that sends messages through a person's nerves, but not enough to power anything or manipulate the magnetism of an object”

“Is that… what you did to Kid and I?” Killer asked, under his breath so as not to let any curious henchmen hear.

“Yeah,” you giggled, “sorry about that, but it was in self defence”

Killer made a low grumble under his mask, not offering up any sort of forgiveness in exchange for your apology. At least now he understood what you'd done, it put him slightly more at ease. Not that he was happy about his nerves being messed with. You yawned and rolled your head to stretch out your stiff neck, the questioning was starting to grate at you. Using your fruit to create a mirage when you were already so weak was probably not the smartest thing you’d ever done.

“Is that it? I'm tired,” you grumbled.

“One more and I'll leave you be for now,” he said, leaning forward to examine her closer, “what's with the mask?”

You chuckled to yourself, not at all surprised by the question considering his own mask. “What's with yours?” you retorted.

He sat in silence, unwavering and unimpressed. You rolled your eyes and huffed, it was clear you weren't getting an answer today, so you'd just have to continue making up your own theories about it. Given the state of Kid's horribly scarred face, your best guess right now was that he was unbelievably mangled under the mask. Blown up by a grenade or something. Maybe he didn't even have a nose. You wrinkled your own nose at the thought before deciding to answer his question, if anything to pull your mind away from imagining what awful features he had under his mask.

“Like I said earlier, I can manipulate light and sound,” you started your explanation, pausing for a moment as he sat back in his chair and resumed his previous position, “unfortunately I can also see and hear a larger spectrum because of it. You know how they say mantis shrimp can see more colours than we can? It's like that, I've got shrimp colours. And sounds I guess. Well not shrimp sounds but… you know what I mean. Anyway it sounds fucking cool, but I can tell you right now that constantly being able to hear every atom moving and being able to see everyone's bones and organs is not cool, and I can't control it on my own. It's a default setting that I can't seem to manipulate, and it's extremely overwhelming. If I spend more than a few minutes without the mask I usually have a panic attack. The mask filters it all out so I just see and hear what a normal person would. I can adjust it though, to tune in to different levels of the sound or light spectrum, for example if I need to see if someone has a broken bone, or hear a different frequency.”

“That's why you carried the seastone cuffs after killing the commodore? To mute the ability?”

“Exactly. Seastone deactivates devil fruits, as I assume you know, so I can use it to stop myself from becoming overwhelmed when I don't have the mask. Obviously though, seastone also makes me weak and tired. It's why I'm inseparable from my mask. I'm guessing you understand better than anyone what it means to me,” you said, scanning his striped mask with your pupil-less eyes.

“Hmmph,” he replied neutrally, standing from the chair and dragging it till it rested against a wall, “that'll do for now then, but there's more questions we'd like to ask tomorrow”

“Mmm,” you replied, straightening your legs out and shifting in your spot to get comfortable again. Your arms would have gone to sleep long ago if you hadn't been using your devil fruit to keep the blood flowing in them, “I'm guessing the captain wants to know what intel I have on the marines and world government. You can tell him I'm more than happy to share with him everything I know about those cunts, I have no love or loyalty for them. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or whatever it is they say.”

“Right,” he replied, a little taken aback that you were so willing to part with information without even being prompted. ‘They must have really done a number on her’ he thought to himself, “He'll be happy to hear that. I'll have someone bring you water, and I'll be back with more questions tomorrow.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Massacre Soldier,” you said in her best obedient subordinate voice, before closing your eyes to nap.

“It's Killer,” he replied with a huff, walking away.

Day 2

You woke up at what must have been the middle of the night. It was clear out, the stars were in full display, but you hadn't noticed them yet due to the fact that you were full on hyperventilating after a particularly graphic dream. You'd think someone who enjoyed violence as much as you wouldn't experience bad dreams, but there were other kinds of horrors from your past that plagued you and often woke you in a panic. You went through the familiar motions of calming yourself; five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can smell… Eventually your breathing started to even out and the world came back into view. It was then you noticed the vibrations of the warm body above you. If you concentrated enough you could make out the vague shape, and it was clear they were watching you from the crow's nest above. On night watch, presumably, and distracted by your very audible panic attack.

“You can stop gawking at me now, Killer,” you mumbled without turning to look at him, stretching your legs back out from the fetal position you'd subconsciously pulled them into. The distinct difference in vibrations around his mask made it easy to tell who was watching you.

“You good?” he asked, trying to hide the genuine concern in his voice but you picked up on its subtlety, and it annoyed you to no end. You weren't some feeble thing, and you wondered if he was only treating you with kindness because you were a woman. You had no doubt it was going to be a common struggle aboard the Victoria Punk.

“Just peachy, so fuck off,” you huffed. There was a quiet shifting of fabric as he turned away to give you privacy, returning to watching the still horizon and the small, calm clouds that were settled over it.

Resigning yourself to ignoring him, and titling your eyes to the sky you finally noticed the dazzling scattering of twinkling stars, too far from any island to be hindered by light pollution. Your mask may have had a purple tint, but it didn't apply to your vision like it would if you were wearing sunglasses. Sure, it kept the sun from being too bright by filtering out some of its harsher light waves, but other than that it was a mere filter, allowing you to see the way a normal person would, maybe even slightly better than a normal person. For you, it was no different to wearing clear prescription glasses.

You were certainly far from colourblind, having seen a much wider spectrum of colours than any other person, you could pick up the subtle differences between colours like nobody else could. The faint yellows, blues and reds of the faraway stars were clear to you, each star being a different colour depending on how hot they were. You knew other people could tell the difference, but you could pick out the smallest changes, you could probably guess the exact temperature of each star if you tried based on the colour.

You could also see planets in far more detail than the normal human eye, picking out the quiet blues and warm browns of the different planets that were close enough and in the right position to see. To the naked eye they would have been simple sparkles hidden between the stars. They were still tiny, but the colours were clear to you.

You admired the full display of nature's majesty with wide eyes. It had been years since you'd seen the stars. You would have liked to adjust your mask to see the ultraviolet light, to see the beautiful blues and purples radiating off distant galaxies, but your arms were firmly pinned to the mast. You sighed, deciding to continue stargazing anyway, reminding yourself that you would have all the time in the world to look at the stars under every spectrum of light imaginable as soon as you were done with your time on the mast.

At some point you fell back asleep, lulled by the soft rocking of the ship and Killer's quiet rhythmic breathing above you.

You grumbled and pulled your leg away as someone kicked it, wishing you could rub the sore spot the kick had left but unable to reach with your arms tied. You opened your eyes to find Killer standing over you once again, his leg pulled back to repeat the kick if you didn't wake up. He wasn't doing it hard enough to properly injure, but enough that it'd no doubt leave a bruise on someone like you. Before he could swing you stopped his foot with your own, crossing one leg over the other to press your black, standard issue marine boots against his ankle.

“What the fuck Killer?” you spat, pushing his leg away before returning your foot to the ground, bent at the knee so you could quickly raise it again if you had to.

“About fucking time, fuck you sleep like the dead,” he replied, pulling the chair from yesterday back towards you, leaving it a little further away to account for your stretched out leg before sitting, “and you snore worse than most of the men here.” It was a lie, but he felt like seeing if he could get a rise out of you.

“I do the fuck NOT,” you yelled, trying to slide down in your restraints so you could reach him with your foot to kick him, which resulted in your leg flapping awkwardly in the air mere inches away from him while you made little grunts of excursion. He couldn't help but smile under his mask, you really could be childish, it was amusing, and he would definitely find more ways to rile you up in the future. You could have full well used your devil fruit to maim or kill him, but it was clear you weren't going to hurt him. Finally you gave up and let your leg fall to the wooden deck with a heavy ‘thunk’ and a pout on the only visible part of your face.

“What do you want, Killer?” you said with an exasperated sigh.

“We have more questions,” he replied.

“Of course you do, couldn't it wait till I was awake though?” you grumbled.

“It's almost noon, you've slept more than enough,” he replied in a bored tone.

You looked around, a little confused. Had you really slept that long? The men around you were bustling around, already several hours deep into their various chores, the occasional curious glance thrown your way. You turned back to Killer with a sigh, “Fine, what does our apparently very busy captain want to know today?”

“You knew I was watching you last night, do you have haki?”

“Armament, yes. It's strong, by normal standards, though I barely use it. I'm guessing you're asking specifically about observation haki though. I don't, I can just sense vibrations around me because of my devil fruit. If I concentrate enough I can make out the contours of people, see their faces and expressions, sense if their heart is beating faster if they're lying. Which by the way, I know I don't snore, and you're a filthy liar.” you gave him a coy smile, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, turning away from you. His heart was racing, and it didn't take a psychic to figure out why.

“I can't see your face,” you reassured softly. His head snapped in your direction and he was starting to wonder if you could read minds, “your mask is solid metal, it's blocking a lot of the vibrations and making them bounce back. All I can sense under it is a blur. It would be the same if I used my mask functions, metal is a good insulator against a lot of types of wavelengths, so it's a bit of a weak spot for me”

His heart rate lowered slightly, his own observation haki telling him you weren't lying about your ability. He cleared his throat, a little flustered that you'd read him and his insecurities so easily.

“Our intel tells us you have ties to Vegapunk,” he said, trying to move the conversation along, “we assumed the weapon, you I guess, were built by him but obviously that's not the case, so where is that information coming from?”

“Oh, that would be the mask,” you explained, “I spent a short while on Egghead Island with a few of his satellites while they ran tests on my fruit and manufactured the mask. As much as the government wanted me to be their weapon, I was useless before the mask. Like I told you yesterday, it's overwhelming. I was always on the edge of a panic attack, struggling to navigate the world. I had to be practically guided everywhere and spoon fed because I was seeing straight through everything, I would always walk into shit and over or under reach for things because I couldn't make out surfaces. Not to mention the sounds. I may as well have been deaf because I couldn't pick out voices between everything else. I was an anxious, over-stimulated mess and completely useless as a weapon, as a person even, so they commissioned Vegapunk to make the mask to help me control it. I often had bouts of being completely feral before the mask, when my brain would finally snap and go completely instinctual just to have any sort of control. A lot of people have bite shaped scars from me”

“What the fuck is a satellite,” Killer asked. Your answer had raised many more questions, but that one confused him the most.

“Ah, kind of a complicated question,” you mused, “they're… Vegapunk? But not? I'm not sure how to explain it. He like, split his personality up into clones or some shit. They don't look like him though, or what I've seen of pictures of him anyway. I've never actually met him”

“Right, okay,” Killer did not at all understand but he figured it didn't really matter anyway, he had more important questions to ask, “how long were you a marine?”

“Another complicated question,” you groaned, “you just love those don't you? Can't you just ask me my favourite colour or something?”

There was an awkward silence while he waited for you to answer the question, before you groaned again and relented. “Finnneeee. And it's yellow, by the way. Do you want the long version or the short version?”

“Long version, I've got all day,” he replied.

“Alright then,” you shrugged, or as best you could in the restraints anyway, “it's not like I'm going anywhere. I ate my devil fruit when I was about four. Daddy dearest was never in the picture, it was just me and my mother, so I was left alone for long bouts during the day while she worked, that was when I found it. Obviously it fucked me up, my mum came home one day to find me completely out of it, screaming, feral. She didn't know it was a devil fruit, obviously, so she took me to the hospital. Doctors took months to realise it was a devil fruit and put a seastone cuff on me, but not before I blew a nurse's brains out in my panic. Life went relatively back to normal for a while till the government caught wind of me. Mum kept me hidden away, given what I'd done to the nurse, but kept her eye out for a way to get me off the island so we could start fresh somewhere else. Eventually she was able to save enough money to buy us passage to another island, but the ship was attacked by slavers during the journey.”

You paused for a moment, watching a news coo fly overhead and drop the daily newspaper, something you hadn't seen in a very long time, before continuing on with your story. “I was about six when I was sent to a slave house on Sabaody. The government had tracked my movements and were quick to buy me, and I haven't seen my mother since. They sent me to the marines to be secretly trained, only a select few knew about me. I think the plan was to make me a CP agent, they seemed pretty set on training me for some sort of elite team. Physical training was going fine, I learnt how to fight and how to shoot and how to be stealthy, but every time they took the seastone off though I'd go straight back to being out of control, and eventually they gave up on me. At some point they started abusing me, since I wasn't good for anything else. It was just inappropriate touches at first, and then… well. I'm sure you can put two and two together.” Killer’s mask moved to point away from you, clearly unnerved with the topic, and you cleared your throat uncomfortably before continuing.

“Anyway the government wasn't happy about my lack of progress controlling my fruit, so they shipped me off to Egghead in the hopes that Vegapunk could ‘fix’ me. I had two beautiful, abuse-free years on that island while they made the mask and helped me learn to control my fruit, before the government pulled me back to hell. I spent the next four years training, honing in on my devil fruit, learning haki and moon stepping, learning advanced combat. I was a quick learner, so they put me in active service when I turned sixteen, when it was no longer suspicious for me to be in the marines. I did what they asked like an obedient dog, for a while,, but then they stuck me with a commodore who liked to play with pretty things. The more he abused me, the more I lashed out on the battlefield. At some point I started enjoying killing, using it as an outlet for my anger, and the more blood thirsty I became the less they could control me. Eventually I started killing marines and civilians, so they benched me. They couldn't let my fruit go back in rotation though, so they just kept moving me from base to base to keep me hidden. I must have been twenty when they benched me. I'm not sure how long it's been since then, years definitely, but I'm not sure. Anyway that's it, that's the full story”

It was a lot for Killer to process. Your shit past was somehow worse than his, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for you. He'd been young the first time he killed, but four years old? That was a lot for a kid to carry, not to mention being raped for the first time before even hitting puberty, and so many times since. It was no wonder you were so fucked up, why you laughed so maniacally after killing the commodore, why you enjoyed killing as much as Killer did. He wondered if you'd been branded at the slave house, or when the last time someone had treated you as a human was.

With a heavy exhale he stood, dragging the chair back to the wall without a word, and decided to leave it be for now.

“What, that's it? No snide remarks about being a warm hole or some shit?” you spat. It was clear you were angry, residual anger not really directed at him but at your memories. It sent a shiver down his spine to hear you imply that it was a common occurrence for men to just call you a ‘warm hole’.

“I'll have someone bring your water, we're done for now,” he said flatly as he walked away. You huffed in outward annoyance, but inwardly you wished he hadn't left, so you didn't have to be alone with your own thoughts.

Day 3

Day three was of not much note. You watched the crew do their chores, trying to overhear their names as they talked so you could figure out who was who. Usually around midday some nervous cabin boy would bring you a single glass of water, shaking as he held it to your lips, but to your surprise today it was brought by someone else. Heat knelt in front of you, holding up the glass of water.

“No cabin boy today?” you mused.

“They're scared of you,” he laughed, holding the glass to your mouth so you could drink. You chugged the water greedily, one glass a day was nowhere near enough under the constant sunlight, “apparently they heard about what you did at the marine base, so I offered to bring you your water instead of having to smell them pissing their pants”

You laughed as you swallowed the last bit of water, almost choking on it. “You good?” Heat asked, his eyes were soft with concern but it didn't seem to annoy you as much as it had when Killer had shown sympathy.

“Yeah,” you coughed, “wrong pipe. Anyway, that's fucking hilarious. Cabin boys are just pups, I wouldn't hurt them”

“Yeah good luck convincing them of that, pussies the lot of them,” he laughed, putting down the glass and sitting on the deck in front of you. His pale blue hair billowed in the wind behind him, a tone not too far from your own lilac coloured hair. His face was covered in stitch-like scars that ran from his mouth over his cheeks and his body was lined with tattoos that looked like barbed vines that wrapped around his neck and over his arms, you traced them with your eyes.

“I like your tattoos,” you mused.

“Thanks,” he smiled, somehow still looking sad at the same time, “you got any?”

“Not any by choice,” you frowned, “just a marines tattoo, it's more like a tag of ownership really. And a slave mark, if you can count that”

“We can get them covered, if you want,” he offered, “well I don't think you can tattoo over scars actually, but the marine tat we could cover”

“You think we can turn it into a set of tits?” you gave him a coy smile.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he laughed, standing up, “I should probably go, we're not supposed to talk to you till initiation is done, but I think you're going to fit right in here”

“Thanks Heat,” you replied softly, glad to have had some genuine company, if only for a short while.

You pulled your knees up to your chest as soon as he left. You didn't want to show weakness in front of Heat but a sharp pain was beginning to form in your gut, assumedly from hunger. It didn't feel like your normal hunger pains but then again, you weren't usually tied to a mast. You'd only asked to use the bathroom once since getting here, maybe you were constipated or something. Not that the source of the pain mattered, you still had another four days to go before you were released and you doubted they'd allow you any painkillers till it was over, so you just pulled your knees in as close as you could to put pressure on the dull pain.

Day 4

It was almost noon when Heat came out to the deck to bring you your water. You'd been quiet, as always, save for a few questions Killer had for you about the marines. You'd spent most of the last 24 hours with your knees up at your chest, your head buried between them as the sharp pain continued to grow in your gut.

Heat was in a good mood today, he had high hopes for you as a new crewmate. His conversation with you yesterday had been short, but you were pleasant to talk to, had no problem making crude jokes, and by your work on the battlefield it was clear you were bloodthirsty. You would fit right in here. Three more days, then he could properly get to know you. Not to mention that Kid had said the crew just couldn't touch you ‘without your consent’, that wasn't a full ban, right? If he played his cards right maybe he could score himself a girlfriend. The thought of not having to wait between islands to get laid made him near giddy. Kid hadn't bothered to talk to you since you'd come on board, Killer didn't seem to have any interest outside of the questions he was tasked with asking you, and Wire certainly couldn't care less. The henchmen would probably try their luck, but Heat knew they were far beneath a woman of your calibre. That left you wide open for him to try his hand at wooing you, so he was setting himself up to always try his best to be nice to you. Of course, he preferred women with a little more plush to them, with soft curves and tummies and breasts he could practically sink into, and you were basically a walking bag of bones, but he wondered if in time, with proper nutrition, whether you'd fill out. It didn't make a whole load of difference at the end of the day though, a thin woman was still a better companion than ol’ righty.

He almost dropped the glass he was carrying when he spotted you though, his grin quickly wiped from his face. Your knees were at your chin, as they had been since yesterday, and between your legs was a small puddle of blood, your navy coloured uniform shorts clearly darkened with it. Without hesitation he spun on his heel and ran for the navigation room, where he knew he'd find Kid and Killer.

The two of them were indeed there, along with Wire, scouring over maps of the nearby islands and comparing them to the log pose, trying to figure out their next move now that they were done with the months of run around you had given them. Their heads all shot up as the door flung open, a flustered Heat standing in the doorway, glass of water still in hand (though somewhat empty now, given most of it had spilt out in his hurry).

“What the fucks got your panties in a twist?” Kid grumbled, settling down the map he'd been holding.

“The girl, she's bleeding,” he huffed out between heavy breaths.

Killer was the first to move, shoving Heat out of the doorway so he could pass him, making long, fast strides to the mast where you were bound. Kid followed quickly after, already jumping to conclusions and feeling a rage brewing. The only way in his mind that you could be bleeding is if someone had attacked you, and he would torture everyone on this ship to find out who touched his new toy.

The stampede of heavy footsteps, which slightly vibrated the deck under you, woke you from your nap. You groaned a little, stretching your legs out in front of you, your knees clicking a little at the motion. The pain in your gut had definitely increased since you'd fallen asleep a few hours ago, and you wondered how much worse it was going to get. Any more and you wouldn't be able to keep up the brave face anymore. Your eyes widened in confusion as you watched Kid, Killer and the other commanders racing towards you, and you ran a montage through your mind of everything that you'd done and said since coming aboard to try and figure out what you'd done wrong to piss them off.

“Uh, hello boys?” you offered as they came to an abrupt stop in front of you.

“Heat, where's the blood?” Kid scowled, as far as he could see, you were perfectly fine.

“Uh, under her ass,” Heat replied sheepishly, hoping the others wouldn't take notice of the fact that it meant he'd been looking at your ass.

You lifted your knees in confusion and spread them, trying to look down as best you could with the restraints to see what Heat had seen. Your groin was dark with blood, and a small puddle had formed underneath you. The cogs in your brain immediately clicked into place and you groaned at the inconvenient timing.

“Relax, it's just my period,” you told them, closing your legs again, a little embarrassed. The statement only seemed to anger Kid more.

“Why the fuck would you do that now?” he growled and pointed at the blood with an accusing finger, “you're getting your gross fucking pussy blood on my deck.”

You blinked slowly and looked at Killer, thus far it was clear he was the brains of the operation, definitely not the captain who was entirely brawn, and brawn only. “He's not serious, right?”

Killer ran a hand down his mask and groaned. Kid could be smart sometimes, in his own way, but fuck could he also be dumb as hell, especially when it came to women. Kid knew where to stick his dick, and that was about the limits of his knowledge.

“She didn't do it on purpose,” Killer offered, trying to calm his captain down.

“Like hell she didn't,” he spat back.

“Women don't choose when their period happens, it just happens,” Killer tried to explain with a heavy sigh.

“Well, really, most healthy women know when to expect it, but I haven't had enough nutrition to keep it regular. I really didn't expect it, sorry,” you were trying your best to not be ashamed of this entirely natural thing, and laid your legs back down to hide the blood from Kid who was still staring at you with a confused frown.

“Can't you just hold it in or something at least?” Kid asked with a scowl.

“Not really how it works,” you sighed, “its gonna continue till my entire uterus lining is shed”

“I'm not even going to ask what the fuck you mean by that,” Kid knew a ‘uterus’ was for making babies, right? What kind of fucking horror show was this shit? You had to shed it? The whole lining? What the fuck.

“Do you need something for it?” Killer asked you.

“She's not getting shit. Besides, we don't have any of that girly shit on board,” Kid cut in before you could answer. You groaned and wished you could reach your face so you could pinch the base of your nose, with the headache that was quickly forming.

“Look, you have three options,” you said plainly, “one - you leave me here, I continue bleeding on to the deck, the blood goes rancid, I start to stink like a dead fish, then I get an infection and die. Very cool. Two - you provide me clean, dry rags and let me switch them out every four hours until we reach land, because it's going to take at least another five days to be done. Or three - you let me have a longer bathroom break, I use my devil fruit to hurry it up, I have a quick shower to clean up, and everyone goes on like nothing happened”

Kid scowled, his hands on his hips, staring down at you. His body was casting a shadow over you, and you shivered a little at the lack of warm sunlight - definitely not at how big and intimidating he was from this angle. He thought about the options, but it was clear which one was the most convenient.

“Killer, take her to your bathroom, don't let her out of your sight,” he huffed, before turning and stomping away. Wire followed him, having quickly lost interest, and Heat gave you a sympathetic smile before leaving as well. Killer quickly scanned the small crowd of henchmen and cabin boys that had stopped their chores to watch the commotion, one look from Killer was all it took to clear them off.

Without a word he knelt at the back of the mast, untying the thick ropes that held you. You used the mast to support yourself as you stood, careful to avoid stepping in the blood your unexpectedly heavy flow had left, it wasn't really that much but it would be gross to step in anyway. You ran vibrations through your body to loosen up your stiff joints, stretching your arms out above your head and rolling your sore shoulders with small popping sounds. You looked down at the blood with a flush, then back at Killer, who was quick to notice your embarrassment. He grabbed the collar of a passing cabin boy, who squeaked at the sudden forcefulness.

“Oi, clean this up,” he told the boy, pointing at the blood, before letting him go with a small shove and watching the boy scurry away to find a mop. On the bright side, the Kid Pirates were probably experts at getting blood out of the deck, given their profession. It was probably the first thing new cabin boys were taught.

Killer turned and walked away, annoyed that it was his bathroom being sacrificed, but he wasn't going to go against the captain's orders. At least he knew his room was clean, as it always was. He always kept his room tidy with militant level spotlessness, you could probably eat off any surface in his room. He took great pride in it.

You took the hint and followed close behind him, not sure what to say but thankful you would get your first shower in months. You hadn't had a tour of the ship yet, so you had no choice but to follow behind him, having no idea where the bathroom even was. You hoped they had hot water on this ship but you weren't about to get picky.

You were expecting a grody communal bathroom, something with one of those shower rooms without separations and toilet cubicles with questionable stains on the seats, so you were certainly surprised when you were led to a large, private bedroom. In the middle was a king sized bed, made up with navy sheets and royal blue blankets and pillowcases, the matching set embossed with a diamond pattern that was more matte compared to the shine of the base fabric. A lush, navy, fluffy blanket ran over the end of the bed, folded to form a tidy, decorative strip like something out of a magazine. The bed frame looked to be made out of a dark, ebony wood, and the headboard was ornately engraved with what looked like a battle scene, with the endboard similarly engraved to match. On either side sat a heavy looking side table with matching wood - all of the furniture in the room looked like part of the same, probably very expensive, set.

Hanging on the wall on either side of the bed were brass, antique looking lamps with sharp details that looked like they could injure you if you fell against them. Further out from the lamps were small porthole windows, one on either side of the bed, framed with short, navy, velvet curtains on brass rods. The room also had a large wardrobe to one side, and a short, wide set of drawers on the other, all with brass knobs that matched the side tables. Above the dresser hung an oval mirror, trimmed with an ornate brass frame that matched the lamps. The mirror was cracked and missing shards, like someone had punched it. It seemed out of place in an otherwise immaculately tidy room.

The walls of the room were painted in a calm, pale blue, the lower half shiplapped with dark wood, and on one wall, beside the wardrobe, hung several antique weapons, ranging from katanas to scimitars to daggers, all beautifully crafted and well maintained. There were no other signs of personalization in the room - no trinkets, books, stray laundry - it felt like a hotel room, not somewhere that was lived in full time. Above all, it was not what you expected to find on a pirate ship.

After several moments of gawking from the doorway, Killer gave you a shove further into the room, slamming the door behind the two of you. He strode across the room, opening a door beside the dresser, before sitting on the edge of the bed facing the open door, his arms crossed in displeasure.

“Bathroom is in there, towels under the sink,” he nodded towards the door, “hurry the fuck up, I haven't got all day”

You walked past him hesitantly, into the simple bathroom, and started to close the door, only to be met with an annoyed tut from Killer.

“Door stays open,” he told you flatly.

“Oh come onnnn,” you moaned, “you're really going to sit there and watch me? What kind of fucked up pervert are you?”

“Captain's orders,” he replied with a shrug, “he told me not to take my eyes off you, so that's what I'm doing. Don't make it weird”

“You're the one making it weird,” you mumbled, sliding off your boots, shorts and blood soaked panties down. They were nothing fancy, just boring, standard issue tightey-whiteys. You threw your jacket over the sink and sat down on the toilet the wrong way round, facing the wall, and set a hand to your stomach.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Killer grumbled, “did those marine pigs not teach you how to use a toilet?”

“Mind your business, asshole,” you grumbled, shimmying a little to get comfortable on the seat, “I'm about to strip the lining of an organ, something that should take days, in only a few minutes. Sometimes I pass out from the pain, and I'd rather not go face first into the tile.”

Killer certainly shut the fuck up at your unexpected reply, watching you with anxious concern now. There was an audible vibration as you used your devil fruit, and the trickling of blood hitting the toilet water as your uterus lining began to dislodge. You groaned in pain, white knuckling the toilet tank. Under your mask tears were starting to stream, dripping down your face and landing on the long sleeve of your shirt where you were supporting your weight on the tank. You tried your best not to scream, but it felt like you were being ripped in half as you forcibly shed the lining and contracted your muscles to push it out. Several minutes had passed, interrupted by the occasional heavy splash in the toilet as larger clots of blood exited you, before finally you gave one last grunt and a large splash below announced the bulk of your uterus lining landing in the toilet.

Immediately you passed out, the visor of your mask hitting the wall hard, and Killer rushed to keep you upright as your body began to slide sideways. There was still a quiet trickling below you, and out of morbid curiosity he looked down past your ass into the toilet. It was a bloodbath, scattered with thicker chunks that would have made a normal man gag. He couldn't help but feel sad for you that you had to force yourself to do that. He wondered how many times you'd done it before, you knew you’d pass out so clearly this wasn't your first time.

When he was sure your body was stable against the toilet, he turned away and started to run the bath, one arm still reaching towards you in case you started slipping again. There was no way he was about to let you shower when you'd just passed out, the risk of it happening again and you getting injured in the process was too high, you'd be safer in a bath, even if it wasn't part of the deal. You still weren't awake when he felt the water was deep enough to submerge your lower half, so he lifted you from the toilet and set you down in the water, your shirt getting wet in the process. He wondered whether he should start washing you, but that felt like an intrusion, so he let you be, holding you upright so you wouldn't slip into the water and drown.

Slowly, after five or so minutes, you finally came to. You weren't sure what surprised you more, the fact that you were in a bath, or Killer's arms firmly around you. You gently pushed him away, confused and embarrassed. He stood up quickly, flustered at his own impulsive actions, and grabbed a towel and hand cloth from under the sink, throwing the hand cloth at you unceremoniously and hanging the towel on the hook next to the bath before quickly leaving, closing the door behind him. Not the whole way, but enough to give you privacy.

As soon as you regained your wits you pulled off your shirt, careful to avoid pulling off your mask, and sunk into the water. You would give yourself just a few moments to compose your thoughts before you set yourself to cleaning. You looked around, observing the simple bathroom. It was entirely set with white, from the floors to the walls to the furnishings. There was a simple toilet, a cabinet sink with a mirror above it, not smashed this time, and the combination bath-shower you were currently sitting in, which was deep and wider than a normal tub to accommodate a large body. The only signs that a person used this room were the single toothbrush and toothpaste sitting in a clear, blue glass cup on the sink, and the inset shelf next to the tub, which contained various toiletries.

Careful to not take too long, lest you be dragged out, you carefully cleaned yourself with the handcloth, using a small amount of the body wash that sat perfectly straightened on the shelf next to the bath. The water quickly turned pink as the blood was shifted from your skin, and you took care to pay special attention to between your legs. There would be a few spots of blood left, but not more than what a small wad of toilet paper in your underwear could handle. You were glad too for the warm water which served to soothe your sore abdomen.

Once you were done you pulled the plug, running the water for a moment to wash away any clots of blood that threatened to remain, pushing the swirling water around with your foot. You stood awkwardly in the middle of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around you, avoiding the mirror, and trying to decide what to do about dressing. Your pants and underwear were a no-go, there was no way you were putting those back on, and your shirt was soaked from the tub. Only your socks and boots were really usable. You cleared your throat hesitantly to get Killer's attention.

“Killer?” you paused, “can I um.. could I borrow a shirt? And maybe some underwear? Briefs, preferably”

Killer kicked himself for not being more prepared - of course you needed a change of clothes, you couldn't just go back to sitting around in your own blood for another three days. He grumbled and rummaged through his drawers, pulling out a simple blue t-shirt and a pair of black briefs. He scowled at the idea of you wearing his underwear, but it was better than leaving you exposed on a ship full of men. You were standing in the doorway, wrapped in the towel, when he turned back to you. He shoved the clothes into your arms, pushing you back into the bathroom before sitting back on the bed awkwardly. ‘Fuck Kid and his stupid fucking orders’ he huffed to himself.

You quickly dressed - the shirt was extremely oversized on you, just as you had hoped, it was basically a dress. The briefs barely stayed up, but they would do to hold the small wad of neatly folded toilet paper against your center. You bundled up your wet, dirty clothes in your arms, not sure what to do with them, before exiting the bathroom.

Killer stood as you entered, observing how his shirt came midway down your calves. Till now you'd been fairly covered, but now he noticed how thin your arms and legs were, and the gentle scattering of lilac freckles that covered them, matching your hair. On your left arm, barely visible below the sleeve of the oversized shirt, was a marines tattoo. It was clear too that your wrists bore now healing rings of injury from your many years wearing seastone cuffs. They looked red and tender, but thankfully not infected.

“Um, I'm not sure what to do with these,” you said quietly, interrupting his silent examination of you.

“Give em here,” he said, taking them from you, “we'll burn them when you're done with your initiation, its tradition for ex-marines who become pirates”

“Oh, okay,” you replied, a little hopeful. Burning them sounded cathartic. Fun, even. There was a short, awkward silence before Killer cleared his throat.

“Back to the mast, then,” he said, dumping the clothes in a laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom and walking back out to where the main deck was. You followed obediently, albeit still a little sore from what you'd just done, but it was better than drawing it out or dealing with it while you were still tied to the mast.

Day 5

By the time your bathroom break came around the next day, your period was more than over with, the last few straggler drops flushed down the toilet with the wad of toilet paper you’d kept in your briefs. Well, Killer's briefs. The weather so far had been warm and pleasant, but not overly hot, since the calm spring weather from the marine base island had extended most of the way into the journey so far. Today though, the winds were shifting, turning cooler and harsher as they entered the radius of an autumn island. In hindsight, not asking Killer for pants was probably a mistake, but it was too late now. Your legs were bare to the wind, and you did your best to hold down the oversized shirt with your pinned hands to keep the wandering eyes of the crew from seeing too much. You weren’t usually shy, but the near constant attention was starting to become a bit much, and you were feeling a lot like a piece of meat dangling on a string in front of a pack of hungry wolves. You hoped the next island was close so the men could vent their frustrations on land instead of gawking at you.

Heat brought you water around noon as always, apologising profusely for overreacting yesterday. His concern was sweet, he genuinely thought you’d been hurt and it was nice to feel cared for, you couldn’t remember the last time someone had given a shit about you being hurt. Heat seemed like a nice guy, past that perpetually sad exterior, someone you could grow to trust here, definitely. Maybe even a friend. That would be nice, you hadn’t had friends since Egghead Island. You rubbed your nose against the soft, thick collar of your puffy jacket. Atlas, one of Vegapunk’s satellites, had gotten you the jacket as a leaving gift; it was one of your only possessions, one of the few things in this world you cared about. Somehow, even after all this time, it still looked and felt like new - one of the Vegapunk wonders, you guessed. You were especially thankful for it now as the wind began to chill you to the bone. You could use your devil fruit to warm yourself, but you were conserving your energy for now, since it looked like it was going to rain soon, and you’d need your limited energy more to shield yourself from it. For now, you would grin and bear it, watching the dark clouds slowly growing on the horizon ahead.

Day 6

As predicted, it began to bucket down shortly before sunrise. Killer was woken up by the thunderous sound of hail pelting against his windows, and sat up with a tired grumble, running a hand through his messy blonde bangs. It was cold, even by his standards, and he worried about you out on the deck in nothing but a thin shirt and a jacket. You were a scrawny thing, the cold probably ran right through you. Fair was fair though, you’d been warned you wouldn’t be released from the mast if a storm hit, but he wondered how mad Kid would be if his new toy died of hypothermia. With a sigh he stood up, pulling a spare blanket from the wardrobe. It was a thick wool, scratchy to the touch, but it would act as a decent barrier against the wet weather, given wool's natural hydrophobic properties. He threw on a jacket and his mask before heading out, pulling up the hood to keep the water from trickling in the holes of his mask, he fucking hated when that happened.

He wasn’t surprised to find you awake on the deck, he doubted anyone could sleep in these conditions, but he was surprised to find you completely dry. Shivering from the cold, but shielded by a small protective wall of vibrations, forming what looked like an invisible umbrella over you. You looked tired, the bags under your eyes were dark and deep, you were putting all of what little energy you had into keeping yourself dry. Your head perked up as he approached, walking slightly bent to try and keep the blanket and himself dry at the near horizontal rain.

Neither of you said a word as he looped the blanket over your shoulders, covering your head to form a makeshift hood and letting the rest pool over your front to protect your exposed legs, which were pulled up to your chest in an effort to keep yourself warm. You released the shield with a heavy exhale, nuzzling your head into the blanket and getting comfortable as your shivering finally started to come under control. The blanket was extremely insulating, and you used what tiny energy you had left to warm yourself up a little before trying to fall asleep, exhausted from using your powers for the last several hours. Content that you would be dry and warm enough, he let you be, hoping Kid wouldn’t be too mad at him in the morning when he discovered the blanket.

The rain and hail lasted the better part of the day, but thanks to the thick wool you stayed safe and dry, cocooned in the blanket. It smelled a little like musk and something spicy, a cinnamon scented shampoo maybe, and you wondered if it was Killer’s scent you were smelling on the fabric. Kid was quick to take it away as soon as the rain stopped, but otherwise didn’t reprimand Killer - he was right, Kid would be pissed if his new toy had died from exposure.

Day 7

You were downright giddy when Heat didn’t come to you with a glass of water on the seventh day, instead coming with empty hands to untie you. You squirmed excitedly as he worked at the tight knots, and when they finally released you immediately sprung up, then just as quickly fell back down, face planting right into the deck.

“Fuck, calm down girl, freedom ain’t going anywhere,” Heat laughed, pulling you up to your feet.

“Sorry,” you grinned, rubbing your sore nose under the mask where it had collided with the visor, “just excited. It's been a long time since I had any free will”

“Well, I’m happy for you,” Heat smiled as he hooked your arm around his, leading you like an old fashioned gentleman would, “come on, lets get some food in you, then I’ll give you the tour”

“I thought Kid would be the one to release me, or Killer even,” you mused.

“Usually with a new crewmate Kid would, but we’re due to reach land with a town tomorrow,” he explained, “everyone's busy finalising plans and stock lists”

“Not you though?” you asked curiously. He was a commander after all, surely he was privy to important plan making.

“Nah,” he laughed, poking you in the side playfully, “I get to skip school to hang out with your cute ass”

“Oh, you think I’m cute do you?” you giggled, skipping ahead and posing, sticking your non-existent butt out a little and holding a finger to your chin in a coy fashion.

“You’d be cuter if you weren’t so damn skinny,” he replied, motioning to you body. You pouted and came back to his side, hooking your arm back around his and letting him lead again. “You’re nothing but skin and bones, those marine cunts really fed you crumbs huh?”

“Yeah, crumbs would be too much by their standards,” you frowned.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he promised, holding open the galley door for you and letting you pass him, before hooking your arm again and leading you over to where the henchmen on cooking duty had spread out the lunch options, “Kid keeps us well fed, you can’t maintain muscle without decent intake. Grab whatever you want”

He handed you a metal tray and grabbed his own, sliding it along the cafeteria style tray slide and grabbing several items. You observed the spread with hungry eyes, your mouth almost watering, before picking out a bowl of a hearty looking stew, several slices of thick bread, and a small slice of chocolate cake. Towards the end of the tray slide was a fridge with glass doors, and he pulled out two beers, offering one to you. You gave a little enthusiastic nod and he placed it on your tray before picking up both his tray and yours and carrying them to a slightly raised area. It was almost like a stage, with a single heavy mahogany table sitting across it, perpendicular to the rest of the room, surrounded by three matching chairs on either long side, and one particularly throne-like chair at one end facing the bulk of the room. The stage was awkwardly empty on either side of the table, with just a few decorative standing candelabras on it, made of delicate swirls of black metal. The rest of the galley had plain, utilitarian metal tables with attached benches, with henchmen and cabin boys spread out across them in small cliques as they ate. It seemed like the raised table was for the top dogs, and Heat placed your tray down to the left of the throne.

“Kid wants you to sit here for your meals, don’t forget it,” he told you, placing his tray down next to yours and sitting to eat. You slid into your assigned seat and started shovelling food into your face in what could only be described as an extremely unladylike fashion, and Heat laughed to himself as he watched you tear the bread and dip it in the stew, using it like a spoon, before letting out a somewhat impressive burp that had the rest of the room turn and stare in surprise. ‘Yeah, she’ll fit right in here’ he thought to himself in amusement.

You were on your second tray of food when Kid, Killer and Wire finally arrived. Kid settled into his throne, and Killer sat at his right hand, directly across from you. A henchman hurriedly placed trays of food in front of each of them, while Wire served himself and sat down next to Killer. You didn’t slow down your eating when they arrived, and they watched you with morbid fascination as you tore into a drumstick of thick meat, the juices splashing on your visor, before chugging half a bottle of beer and slamming it down, going straight back to the meat. You took notice though of Killer’s straw in his drink, and the way he cut his food into small portions so he could slide them under his mask, surprised that he didn't remove the mask even for meals.

When you were full and content, your second set of plates practically licked clean, you leaned back against your chair and sighed sleepily, patting your bloated tummy. Kid watched you with an amused smile as he ripped into his own drumstick of meat, his sharp canines making quick work of it.

“Feel better?” he laughed. You replied with a bleary nod and a quiet, happy hum.

“We’re hitting land tomorrow, Heat will take you in to town to grab whatever you need to get yourself setup here,” Kid told you, switching from his meat to his beer, “we’ll have a bonfire tomorrow night for you to burn your shit”

“Yay, shopping date with Heat!” you yelled, smacking him over the shoulder with surprising strength.

“Alright, don’t go too fucking crazy,” Kid grumbled, “whatever you spend is coming out of your share of future loot, I’m not your sugar daddy”

“That’s a shame,” you toyed, “I would have made such a good sugar baby”

Heat almost choked on his drink and started hitting himself in the chest with a closed fist to clear the blockage, and Kid shot him an unimpressed look. “I think Heat wants the position,” Wire noted.

“I’m sure Heat wants plenty of positions,” Kid laughed. To his surprise, you laughed too at the crude joke, which only made Kid laugh harder since it was all at Heat’s expense. The man in question was now blushing a bright pink, and doing his best to hide under his long blue hair.

“Aw, don’t pick on my poor, sweet Heat,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around Heat’s shoulders and nuzzling him, which only made him flush redder, “besides, he’s the only lucky one who's going to get me help pick out panties. Though I do take requests. A red lace number for you, Captain? Something blue for Killer? Maybe a classy chocolate brown set for Wire? What do you think Heat, what colour panties will suit me best? Ohh I could get a mixed pack of granny knickers for the henchmen!”

Kid was fully roaring with laughter now, and even Killer’s shoulders were moving up and down with a silent chuckle as they all laughed at Heat’s bright red face.

“Man, if I’d known a chick would be Heat’s weakness I would have brought one on board ages ago” Kid barked.

“Alright, very funny, are you done eating?” Heat huffed, pointing at your empty tray, “I have shit to do after showing you around”

“Aww Heatie baby don’t be like that,” you purred, standing up and giving him a hug around the shoulders from behind, shaking him side to side, which he allowed like a ragdoll, “come give me your grand tour then”

Heat grumbled and stood up, and you, still hugging him around the shoulders, committed to the bit and dangled down his back. He was significantly taller than you, so you were far from touching the floor. He shrugged his shoulders a few times to try and get you off, but when you didn't budge he decided to just accept his fate, stacking the empty plates and cutlery from your tray on top of his and carrying the collective pile to the serving counter for the cabin boys to clean. You barely weighed anything, so for Heat it was like wearing a backpack full of feathers. Kid continued to roar with laughter as the two of you left, giggling as you continued to dangle, half hidden against Heat's long blue hair, while Wire shouted at the two of you to use protection.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[j0kers-light]

imagine j with a southern bunny! i'm from mississippi and i don't think i sound super southern but i must be because most people down here think i have thick accent 🤣 i think j would either love or hate a southern accent 😂

Hey hi my sweet anon!! 🖤✨

This is the part where I repp the south! TN & GA! LET'S GO SOUTHERN GIRLS!!! 😤

I'm constantly concealing my southern accent at work and I hardly recognize I have one until a friend from the west coast calls me out on it. Y'all just don't know.. I be sounding a hot mess so don't feel discouraged anon! This is for all my southern girls! Yee to the flipping haw.

I think its only fair to separate the two scenarios of him loving or hating your accent. I hope you enjoy love! 🖤✨

Poor Joker. Oftentimes, he doesn't understand what you're saying and finds himself staring at you perplexed.

You would think thick accents wouldn't be an issue for him (after dealing with his crazy ex girlfriend...) but he asks you to repeat yourself multiple times a day much to your annoyance.

Don't get him wrong! He adores his Bunny!!! He just can't quite understand how you shorten some words and exaggerate others. (Ring any bells Joker? 🙄)

Perhaps that's why he hates it so much because its so similar to his own unique speech pattern. He denies that it’s the same.

And don't get him started with how slow you speak as if you have all the time in the world.

Joker is used to the fast jargon of Gotham City (our modern day NY) so he expects quick conversations or at least ones that he can fully comprehend. He feels like he loses IQ points hearing you talk.

Whenever you say things like "over yonder" or "whatchamacallit" he rolls his eyes and demands you speak plainly or not at all. "I am Joker. Quit calling my kettle black and gone get."

What does it even mean?! You and your southern sayings are driving him insane(r)!

He thought you were faking the whole accent thing until you went to visit family and he tagged along.

You have been speaking plainly to Joker because your relatives are practically speaking a different language compared to you.

He wants to turn himself in at Arkham if he has to listen to this southern drawl any longer. It is grating his nerves.

It gets worse the longer you stay home. You forgo all proper grammar and anything goes.

Joker can't stand how you sound so proper while simultaneously butchering the English language. He is happy to drop off his Bunny and get out of dodge.

Although he does miss you after a few days and calls you up asking what your plans are for the day and... well.

"I'm fixin' to go round yonder with Boost n' em then we finna cut up until Ma calls for us or till them Katydids start singin. Just a whole bunch a nuthing. You?"

Where does he begin to translate? His head hurts just thinking about trying. "Nothing Bunny. Just forget it."

He instead came up to the house (wearing his face mask of course) to see you. Your parents swarm him wanting to meet the man who stole their baby's heart although it was obvious they don’t approve of J.

Joker didn't mind his manners and his disgust for your inherited accent was visible the entire time.

You smiled and acted as the neutral party between the opposing sides until the sun started to set and Joker decided to leave.

You and your Mom stood on the veranda, watching Joker drive off. Mom waited until he was out of earshot to give her two cents. "Baby, that boy's cornbread ain't done in the middle, ain't it?"

You spat out your sweet tea. WAS IT THAT OBVIOUS?!

Now! Let's discuss Joker loving your southern accent!

From the moment he heard that alluring southern twang spill from your lips, he’s down bad.

You're every bit the iconic southern belle found in movies. Flirtatious by default and ever the tease, you are perfection to him; like a breath of fresh air.

Joker practically drools knowing that's how you were raised yet you keep that side of yourself a secret in order to blend in up north.

He rarely hears your accent because you go above and beyond to sound like citizens of Gotham City.

Your southern twang only slips through the cracks when you're angry, emotional, stressed, etc.

Joker tries his best to bring it out of you because he’s a shameless simp. Your voice is just too hypnotizing to hide!

Your accent kinda reminds him of his own speech pattern with how you pronounce certain vowels or syllables and speak slowly in order for the audience to appreciate every word or double meanings.

It’s an artform that he admires greatly and he loves when you read to him at night.

Or when he comes home all banged up and he catches your feminine gasp. Your “bless your heart baby! C’mere, I’ll fix ya up.” makes him feel so much better. 😍

Yet there are times in which you catch him by surprise with your flourish of words.

It was his idea to take his Bunny out hiking in the outskirts of Gotham. You grew up in the country and at times, the big city felt stifling.

Joker thought some nature would be good for your mood. He didn’t foresee becoming lost.

When he passed the same grove of flowers for the third time, you groaned in frustration. “Just admit it, J! We’re turned every which way but loose!”

He froze hearing your southern accent make a rare cameo. The power you had over him…

He was happy to hear it, but now was not the time to be smiling. “Uh come again Bunny?”

You stomped in your hiking boots and furiously began fanning yourself. ”There you stand in high cotton, and I’m over here sweatin’ like a sinner in church!”

Joker was so confused, yet completely in awe.

Each wild saying has his grin spreading wider and wider and you knew he didn’t hear a word you said; merely just the sound of them.

“J….” You warning him as he slowly advanced forward.

“Keep talking Sugar. You sound soooooo sweet.”

You rolled your eyes as Joker backed you into a tree and took hold of your hips.

“You hard a hearing is you?” You sigh with each distracting kiss Joker left on your neck, “J.. stop. I smell rain coming. We need to head on back.”

“You can… smell rain?” He asked.

“You can’t?”

[docochocart]

DOCORONPA CAST(8/16)

ULTIMATE COWBOY

Raised alongside his 6 older brothers, Cowboy had rigorous standards of bravery and masculinity imposed on him. Striving for greatness and protecting the weak have always been at the

Being from a small, southern town, Cowboy's family held closely to tradition. And with his grandfather being a rodeo star, Cowboy's talent's in horse jockeying showed from a young age.

Years passed with Cowboy consistently outshining his siblings and peers alike on the track, and he was finally rewarded with a steed of his own on his 16th birthday.

After receiving his horse the two were inseparable. Cowboy would spend his days on horseback, trotting the empty streets of his small town. And one evening this would pay off immensely.

Hearing a commotion at the local grocery store, Cowboy approached on horseback to investigate. Upon arriving, he found the distressed shop owner screaming out for help as two burglars fled the scene.

Immediately springing into action, Cowboy sped after the robbers as they ran on foot, and it wouldn't be long until he reached them. Using minimal violence, he was able to apprehend the men and return the stolen money to the shop owner.

The news of this event quickly spread around town, and Cowboy was hailed as a hero by his peers. Though he didn't take well to that much attention, he took the label with pride.

He would continue patrolling the town for the next couple years, until he received a letter from Hopes Peak University inventing him to audition.

Initially unsure, Cowboy would eventually take up the offer in the hopes this boost in profile could bring money back to his hometown.

Can I get a Yee-Haw?

[creampuffqueen]

I saw that post you reblogged about being open to followers asking about your fanfics, so I'm going to take you up on that. I wanted to ask if you have a favorite among the works you did for the Yangvik Week, but maybe that would be too unfair. So my question is: can you tell us what you, the author, like about each of those works specifically, or if you have a favorite line from them? (Bonus: was there a challenging part?) It's always so interesting to hear a writer be meta about their process! Thank you 🩵

Ahhh thank you so much for asking!!! You’re right, choosing a favorite would be very difficult and would probably end in like. A 3 or 4 way tie lol. But i would absolutely love to share my thoughts on my fics and some of the behind-the-scenes things about writing them!!

Gonna go ahead and put this under a cut because i have zero doubt it will get very long haha. Read on for even more yangvik ramblings :) 

Cover Story: 

The part about this fic that was the most fun to write and the part that was the most difficult to write happened to be the same thing - figuring out their secret mission. I truly have to give my props to f.c yee here; writing spy missions is not as easy at it seems! I had to figure out a realistic way to get Yangchen and Kavik alone in a room together, AND in a situation where their only way out was to kiss, without it feeling too contrived. Which meant I was having to think of backups for my backups. A lot of “okay, here’s a way they could get out - how can I make that way impossible?” I truly am quite proud of how it all turned out in the end!

Another favorite part was undoubtedly writing Kavik being absolutely head over heels the entire time. It was the first time I’d written from his perspective, and his head is quite fun to be in. His pining definitely created a few of my favorite lines from this one, such as “In this room full of beautiful things, she’s still the most captivating.” Or “The glow from the fire makes her gray eyes look like molten pools of silver. For a moment, Kavik nearly forgets where he is.”

Also, this entire interaction: ““I think we’re a bit past caring about how I feel about a plan; tell me what it is.”

“You need to kiss me.”

“What?!””

I made myself absolutely cackle with delight when I wrote it. It was so fun.

And then I’ve already shared in another post how I ended up entirely rewriting the entire kiss scene. It just wasn’t hitting in the way I wanted, and I’m much, much happier with how it turned out when I wrote it the second time.

I’ve also particularly enjoyed seeing peoples’ interpretations of this one! Some people think that Yangchen is totally oblivious to how hard Kavik is crushing, while others think she totally knows but is pretending not to. I won’t give an answer as to which is correct, because I think it adds a lot more to be ambiguous enough that it could go either way!

i can’t read your mind (though i’m trying all the time):

Little warning here because this fic is nsfw, so if you’re not comfortable with that topic of discussion feel free to hop ahead to the next section!

I think of all the fics i wrote for yangvik week, this one was the most challenging. I came up with the premise for this fic (yangvik bathtub sex) well before yangvik week, but planning out my fics for the event gave me the motivation to actually Write It. But even after decided I wanted to write it, I spent a lot of time waffling around with it, not totally sure how I wanted to take it. Add in at the time I was really struggling with my self confidence as a writer, and that led to me just being generally unhappy with the whole thing. 

What ended up happening was that I put it on the back burner for a bit, wrote some of my other fics for the event, and then came back to it. Having finished some other fics gave me the little boost I needed to push past the corner I’d stuck myself in (what felt like at the time endless dialogue) and finally write the whole thing. 

Random side tangent: i did not write my yangvik week fics in order lol. It ended up being Day 1-4-2-3-5-6

Anyway. Favorite bits? Quite a few haha

“Yangchen’s eyes don’t leave his, stormy gray meeting ocean blue. Kavik would drown in them if she’d let him.” <- I posted this one as a snippet but I still just love it so much. They’re so utterly whipped for each other it’s crazy.

““Kavik, I’m tired,” Yangchen breathes.

His lips still. “Do you want me to stop?”

A pause. Then, slowly, she drags their joined hands upwards until one of his palms is cupping her breast, showing him where she wants to be touched.

“No. Don’t stop.””

^ I had been planning out this specific bit pretty much since I got the idea for this fic. So I’d been hanging onto this for a few months. Finally getting to write it down was so incredibly satisfying. I HAVE to write my scenes in chronological order. Sometimes if I have ideas for single lines or specific words I want to use I’ll write them down just so I remember, but if it’s an entire exchange like this I force myself to wait for it.

I originally intended to write this fic going at an even slower pace, which looking back now is kinda crazy haha. It’s already got quite a slow buildup. But when I was writing I came to the conclusion that things needed to heat up at least a little bit, hence all the heavy making out that happens. 

“Seated above him, Yangchen has to look downwards in order to connect their gazes. A queen sitting on her throne.” <- I was very proud of this line and the imagery it evokes, and I was very glad to hear that others felt the same! I had several people point out just how much they liked this part, and it’s always very gratifying as a writer to hear that a scene created the feelings you were going for.

The premise of this fic is basically Yangchen going “I want that man on his knees and whimpering” and Kavik going “yes ma’am”

Another random fun fact: it’s a blink and you’ll miss it kinda mention, but the thing that brings them both over the edge during this is making eye contact with each other ;) 

And last but not least, I find it very funny that this fic is the most popular of my yangvik week fics, at least according to the stats on ao3. It has by far the most comments, kudos, and hits. By a long shot. 

Oh my god, you guys are so horny!!! (says the horny bitch who wrote the fic)

Anywayyyyyyy

i’m glad i get forever to see where you went:

So, although this fic was certainly the one with the darkest topic, I think I enjoyed writing it the most. It was an extremely cathartic write, and while I was writing it the words just seemed to flow nonstop. The whole fic came so easily to me, and with very little prior planning. Part of it might be that it was a very different writing style than what I usually use, with it being a more broad overview of an ongoing situation rather than one specific point in time. I really enjoy fics written in that style, and I was very excited to finally create one of my own!

Now for some random notes about the content of the fic itself. I don’t think I mentioned this in the end notes of the fic itself, but there is a reason that Yangchen and Kavik are living near the Eastern temple rather than the Western. In some random, older A:TLA media, it was said that Yangchen retired to the Eastern Air Temple, and she spent her last few years living in a hermitage near the temple. I suppose that narratively it makes more sense for her to live in the west, but I decided to go with it to sort of keep it ‘canon compliant’. I wonder if that will ever get retconned now that we have more content about Yangchen.

But I digress. A part I really enjoyed about this fic was being able to intersperse all the heavy moments with little tidbits that show just how much these two love each other. Even aside from the big, grand, devotion that they show, I also liked showing that they still flirt, they still banter, they still cuddle and watch the sunset together. Just casual moments of a long-time love. 

“Life continues on, though. The endless wheel of time won’t stop turning, even for the most powerful being in the world.” <- Very proud of this line. It just came to me right in the moment and it felt so perfect. 

“Perhaps a part of him is just hoping they’ll adjust. She’s still Yangchen, whip-smart and compassionate and always ready with a quick remark. She’s still every bit the woman he fell in love with, just a bit more forgetful these days. They’ll get through it, surely.” <- Again, very proud of this part. It accomplished several things I wanted to convey: showing the passage of time, as this isn’t something that just happens overnight. It’s a slow, progressive thing. Also adding in some more slightly positive views of Yangchen, as I’d just put her through a whole lot in the previous scenes and felt I needed to add a reminder that despite it all, she’s still Yangchen. And lastly, also adding in Kavik’s sense of desperation that things get better. Or, at least, that things don’t get any worse.

“He loves her, though. The world is always changing, and nothing is ever constant. The deepest truth that he knows in his life is this: He loves Yangchen with everything he has, for everything she is.

He loves her. He squeezes her hand while she sleeps, finally at peace for a change, and hopes that it’s enough.”

^ Yet another part I love. I just really loved my writing in this whole fic. I don’t really have much to add but I just had to put it here because I love it so so much.

Now, for the final scene. I was considering having this not be the last scene. I was going to make it worse. I had a few ideas, all incredibly angsty. Something like Yangchen getting hurt (working ideas were her leaving the fire on and forgetting about it or getting into a situation where she needed to bend a certain element but forgetting she could bend it) or her actually forgetting Kavik’s name for little bit. But in the end it didn’t feel right for the direction I wanted to take this. I wasn’t writing angst for angst’s sake. I didn’t want to end the fic on such a bitter note, on a feeling that all was lost for good. There needed to be some hope still left. Which is why I ended up going the direction I did with it. 

I was veryyyyyy proud of myself for the total genius moment I had in the final scene. Namely, Yangchen starting to return to herself when Kavik hands her the glider. It’s very subtle because in these kind of situations, it’s not like the person comes back to the present all at once. It’s very gradual. But, if you read closely, Yangchen begins to calm down when she gets the glider. Both because it’s something familiar and personal, and because it’s meant to mirror the scene in Legacy where Kavik originally hands her back her glider. Now, in order for this to happen, I had to backtrack very far to get this moment. Like; okay, Kavik hands Yangchen the staff and it helps. Why does he bring the staff with him? Oh, what if he’s using it as a cane! But wait, I never wrote him as needing a cane in previous scenes. Ah, he gets out of bed too fast and pinches a nerve in his back! (sorry Kavik).

And last but not least, the final scene, where Yangchen finally admits out loud how scared she is and she and Kavik both cry, probably has to be my favorite scene of this entire fic. Possibly one of my favorite scenes that I’ve ever written. It was so incredibly cathartic to write. I’m being completely truthful when I say I teared up while writing it. Yes, it was incredibly devastating, but very beautiful in its own way. It was just the culmination and release of all the heartbreak earlier in the fic, and gave way to the wonderful moment of Kavik promising to always be there for her, whether she remembers him or not, which is everything she needs to hear in that moment. I just really love it.

Breakfast and a Braid:

This one was pretty short and sweet so there isn’t a whole lot to say about it writing wise haha. I think the biggest challenge was getting them to the point where Kavik could talk about what he was doing while braiding her hair without the situation feeling too forced or awkward. I think I ended up doing okay, though!

Also while writing this and looking through the fic I realized that I mentioned the gong of Jonduri… the gong is in Taku. *facepalm* I’m gonna have to go fix that at some point. Whoops. 

When Yangchen says that she doesn’t remember breakfast being delivered, it’s meant to imply that she was sleeptalking again, the way she did to Boma at the beginning of Legacy. And I’m not sure why but I enjoy the way I wrote her waking up at the start of the fic. I think it’s just some funny imagery, of her startling awake and throwing her papers everywhere.

Another thing about the writing process of this one is that the part that goes “Tangles removed, Kavik draws his hands smoothly through her thick tresses. Yangchen nearly arches into his hand, like a cat-goose getting its back scratched. If she could purr she’d probably be doing it.” actually had a duplicate paragraph written a few paragraphs before it. I’m very glad I read through this one again, because that would have been awkward lol. I ended up liking the second use of it more, so I rewrote the paragraph earlier in the fic so I could keep it in this spot. Still not totally sure how I basically managed to copy an entire paragraph without realizing it!

“Still, she can’t resist reaching behind her to grab at his collar, dragging Kavik towards her for a proper kiss. He puts up no resistance, grinning softly as Yangchen presses their lips together.” <- and of course, writing kisses is one of my favorite things, so it’s no surprise that it’s one of my favorite lines in this fic :) 

Something Nice:

Not entirely sure why, but of the 6 fics that i posted for yangvik week, this is probably my least favorite 😭😭. Again, no idea why. Like i can’t even pinpoint what i don’t like about it, but whenever i compare it to the others i wrote i just feel. Kinda ‘eh’ about it.

I am however still patting myself on the back for the bit about the wool on the kuspuk being from Nujian’s older sister. I very clearly remember having this complete enigma while planning it out and being like ‘YES ITS PERFECT IM A GENIUS!!!’. So that’s definitely a positive.

Other positives include writing some team Yangchen shenanigans. I really love Yangchen’s team avatar in the books, and so whenever i can i try and include them in my writing, even if it’s just a little mention. But being able to include full on conversations in this fic was very fun.

Although I don’t feel completely satisfied with how this fic turned out (again, for reasons I’m honestly not quite sure of) I do still have a favorite line. That being “Even after she calms, a small part of her wants to stay there forever, held in the little bubble of Kavik’s embrace, safe from the needs of the world.”. I just loved showing how safe Yangchen feels when she’s with Kavik, and how she can just be herself around him. 

The other part i really enjoyed writing with this one was the PINING. Oh the pining. It’s always so delicious. And then the moment at the end where Jujinta interrupts them hehe. I’m definitely a sucker for the ‘moment interrupted’ trope… which i’m now realizing might be a bit obvious considering my other works… oh… oh dear…

darlin’, oh, you see i’ve never felt this way before:

Almost all of my writing is very ‘flying by the seat of my pants’ style as I very rarely go into anything with a concrete plan, but this one was EXTRA off the top of my head. I had a vague idea and a vibe to go off of when I started writing, and I’m pretty pleased with the results!

A few highlights of writing this include: contriving ways to get Kavik shirtless, letting the air nomads be the thirsty mouthpiece of the fandom, and pretending I’m back in middle school and turning absolutely everything into a ‘that’s what she said’ joke

I included this fun fact in the notes on the ao3 version but if you only read it on tumblr you might have missed it! When Kavik is playing the string game with the kids and he makes a shape called ‘the polecat-wolverine’ it is for multiple reasons. 1. ‘The wolverine’ is an actual shape that can be made during the real life string game that Inuit and other Indigenous groups play, and 2. The name ‘Kavik’ means wolverine! He was showing the kiddos how to make his name :) 

I also loved getting to include some more air nomad culture in my writing. The ‘holy day’ they are celebrating is completely made up, but loosely inspired by the Thai Buddhist festival of Songkran. As well, the nature of many of the conversations in this fic led me to basically do a deep dive into how i think the 4 nations view sex, desire, sexuality, etc. Which then led me to retroactively go in to throw in some demisexual Yangchen vibes, which is my personal headcanon of her sexuality.

I think the biggest challenges in writing this fic were, first of all, having little more than a vibe as my concept, and then also figuring out how to spin the ‘jealousy’ prompt into a way that I liked. I very much wanted to stay away from the usual interpretation of jealousy, as I simply don’t think it fits Yangchen and Kavik’s relationship with each other. So I did my best to show that Yangchen isn’t jealous of the other nuns because they’re ‘trying to steal her man’ or that she’s jealous and thinks Kavik will like another girl more than her or anything like that. She’s jealous because she already has to share so much of herself with the world, and doesn’t want to share what she has with Kavik as well. She isn’t at all threatened by other women appreciating his good looks, but she gets very bothered when the conversation starts veering towards more personal things about him. Hence why she stops the teenagers’ conversation when one of them mentions his ‘dreamy eyes’ when the other two had previously been saying far more suggestive things.   

Yet another challenging part of this write was when I decided I wanted to go down the love confession route. I wanted to make it clear that it WAS a love declaration, but without an ‘I love you’. Again, I feel very strongly that Yangchen and Kavik never fully define their relationship. It just… is. So it was a fun challenge to try and write something akin to a confession/declaration without going the typical route. I did consider having them say the Big L Word, but I couldn’t manage to fit it in where I mentioned it was the first time they said it, but at the same time didn’t make it this super huge deal. Of course they already know they love each other; they don’t need to be waxing poetic about it to make it clear, though. I’m pretty happy with what I managed instead!

There are so many standout lines in this one that i adore, but I think most of them come from the final part. I love a good ‘sleepy pillow talk in the morning after’ kind of vibe (in fact, I’ve been considering adding a part 2 to ‘the push' set the morning after) so it was lovely to get to include one here.

I’m very especially proud of the imagery right here: “Yangchen wakes up in shades, consciousness seeping into her bones with each exhale of breath. The pre-dawn light creeps through her window, casting the room in a soft, dreamlike haze.”

And again with this one: “He stretches, long and languid, yawning so widely that Yangchen can hear his jaw pop. His fingers tangle with those already on his cheek, bringing her hand to his mouth so he can begin to kiss his way up her arm, tracing the pattern of her tattoos.” (non-lip kisses my ABSOLUTE BELOVED).

“Rather than fall further into her trap, Kavik shuts her up by tackling her into the bed, making her shriek with laughter when his hands dig into her sides to tickle her mercilessly.” <- I really loved how I portrayed Yangchen in this whole part. She deserves to just let loose and be silly!!!!

“Avatar Yangchen belongs to the world before anything else. Yangchen will always be the Avatar; even in death her spirit will remain to continue the cycle. She holds the world’s biggest blessing and its heaviest burden. It will always have a claim over her.

But right here, her world is just this: the blue of Kavik’s eyes, the safety of his arms, and the love that she can feel pouring out of his very being.”

^ Made myself almost cry with the duality of it all. He’s literally her safe space. I’m never gonna feel normal about them.

This ended up getting… so long lol. If you stayed til the end, thank you very much! I hope you enjoyed getting some insight into my writing thoughts and parts I enjoyed about creating my fics! And again, thank you so much for the ask!!!

[rekikiri]

ranking the things what I have made or want to make my discord status:

“it fucken WIMDY”

10/10, my current status. it’s timeless, it’s elegant, i physically feel the serotonin boost whenever I picture that damn fox. I go back to this every time

“give me silksong or give me death”

8/10, exhibited my frustration at wanting a game that is so unattainable. -2 because it made me sad

“sunshine court when? when jean?”

9/10, it encapsulates what my brain is thinking almost daily waiting on TSC release. -1 because I do not want my IRL friends messaging me like … bitch who is jean and what is the sunshine court…they can’t know about the gay mafia sports books I love with all my heart

“you’re the yee to my haw”

10/10, need to note that this coincided with the below pfp. this pfp is also the one I use on Steam and my older brother threatened to delete me as a friend over it <3

“tamquam, alter idem”

9/10, it’s lovely, it’s pynch and I adore them. -1, i do not want the questions from my IRL friends

“in the universal chaos, humanity emerged”

9/10, lovely, it’s deep, but I’d be bullied by IRL people over it (seems to be a theme hmmm maybe THEY are the problem)

I have more ideas but I doubt anyone cares but I may add onto this just for fun lmao

[the-ellia-west]

Hio dunno if you're still okay with getting oc asks

If no it's okay to ignore this

If yee I got a little something for you

These all can be taken for any oc you want or to all of them if you want ;3

1-any turning points in your OCs backstory that you love to bits?

2-as a writer, you must love putting these poor OCs through the horrors. If you had to choose one or two that don't go through the horrors, who would they be? Or would you rather eat a pie than not put them through the horrors?

3-any fashonistas in your original characters? And why are they one? Are they vain or narcissistic? Or just desperately insecure, so they be pretty?

4-if your ocs got stuck with a bunch of thugs or pirates, how would they get themselves outta that mess? Would they want to get outta that mess? What if that pirate was like that one guy jack sparrow? Would they still fight him?

5-tea or milk tea with pretty drawings?

6- if any of your ocs were in a school, what would their roles be? A teacher or a student or that stuck-up principle or that eccentric science teacher or what?! Be as funny as you want with their exact role if you want 😉

7-any dreams or hopes sustaining those poor OCs? (Which between you and me you may or may not be actively squashing like fly's rn but shh)

8- any challenges that you face in writing these OCs, and how do you face and overcome them? Is it the accents or their deminor or what?

Sorry for asking too much stuff 🫠 I hope they didn't bother you 😅

YESSSSS I LOVE GETTINF OC ASKS AND I ALWAYS WILL

Thank you SO MUCH FOR THE ASKKKK

1. Every bit where Jak just gets Worse, but I also Live for Dyn's kicking in the jaw and fall from grace, and Marril's Disowning

2. I would rather have a pie - (But it's Shyre & Dr. Sunny bc I'm getting obsessed with Sunny again)

3. Honrul, Phenik, Geon, Shyre, Fye, and Eynalis are major Fashionistas. Honrul bc He's got a light ego, Phenik bc it helps boost his terrible self esteem, Geon & Shyre bc they're noble, Fye bc she likes looking nice, and Eynalis Bc he's a Narcissist

4. Marril would make deals. Bc He deals with pirates/ the black market (Honrul) On a daily basis.

5. Jak would take tea, and Marril and Kasi would take milk tea with pretty drawings

6.

Kasi - That one quiet kid who can roast you ruthlessly when she's brave enough bc she practiced in the shower

Xhaazi - The Class clown

Chrin - That one Sweet Rich kid

Sokuna - The principle who's trying her best to get her preschool daughter to stop chewing on the furniture

Shyre - The kid who skips school to go to charities

Marril - That one kid who is DEFINITELY in some weird Mafia shit

Viasaki - The one ex popular kid

Kila - The Kid who bites and throws chairs through windows

Honrul - The kid who skips school to sell drugs

7. Not many spoilers are allowed, but Kasi desperately just wants a normal life

8. I SUCK at developing the characters in their deepest facets

[chatadile2]

Hi! Would you be willing to share anything more about your sidestep? 👀 no pressure, of course, but I’d love to hear more about them!

Hihi, yee don't mind don't mind, thank you for the ask and the interest in her!

One thing before I do tho, that this might change later on mattering from how the next 2 books will be when they come out (not like I'm gonna really remember my choices, so probably will replay and deviate from how I did originally in most things), but overall it shouldn't really, just wanna let my Sidestep actually have a happy life after what happened and be able to heal <:D

Also this is going to be long from what I have written so far, way more than I expected, but hope it's alr :D

(It probably has spoilers in there, but tried to not say too much to make sure anyone reading won't be getting the full picture, till they get there. Also edited it, so it has a cut, cause realised that it might take up more space in searches than I want it to)

-Her name is Tiaxy Draconic (based on my sona since I like to have her in any kind of interactive book story to see what can happen with her and to enjoy the story a bit more personally), a gal with white skin, longer braided blond hair and green eyes, who is a seasoned tech-savy tactician, that becomes very conflicted by the events retribution towards her own self, her villain persona, puppet, life and emotions overall making things more complicated than ever,

-Big sweet toothed telepath, favourite sweet specifically is cheescake!

-Her villain name is Tiamat, based on the goddess and looks somewhat like what they designed for her in the game Smite (Overall my sona herself is connected in a way to the goddess in her own lore outside of the books, so seemed most fitting to make it her villain self's armor), but made to fit the story a bit better, other than with the armor having an expressive face on the helmet, which can show her emotions well enough when she wants it to that can be controlled with cams inside the head aimed at her face and with through the ui. The armor itself wouldn't be exactly like the book describes, being apart, but together, like the power armor in fallout (much more to my liking for what I'm imagining an armor of hers is). It's in the terrifying category with speed, jet boost and telepathy enhancing, helping to keep the "no hit record" alive and well enough that she only got hit majorly once, she isn't planning to get hit majorly anymore even if the armor can take it,

-Main motivation as a villain is justice and truth on the other side and she is an anarchist in the 1st playthrough, mattering from which I like, might switch to another (not really into the politics, but doesn't mean I didn't like punting a guy in one of the later missions tho),

-Her base is an abandoned office building (or whatever it was, can't remember the exact name atm), she refurbished it enough to live there, making sure her armor is close enough by for easy access, old apartment wasn't bad though, she lived well enough, manipulating rich peeps to give her their money, funding her life easily, puppet stayed above the apartment after she moved though,

-As a villain, she isn't trying to kill anyone, atleast any civilians (anyone else will get punted if they are in the way), knows they aren't the problem and tries to show the truth to them and to overall everyone, trying to plant doupt where it needs to be present, even if it's naive at that time, her goals are overall heroic rather than villanious,

-She might pretend a lot, masking as she had always done in fear of being seen and recognised, she is trying/starting to be more positive and genuine towards the end, not by much, but it's way bigger difference then in rebirth with her being very antisocial, it might bite her later though, like before, but hopefully can get out of trouble in the next books,

-Says she doesn't want to keep her friends, yet does, doesn't wanna interact with them, yet does and runs into them by accident a lot, doesn't want to love anyone, yet again does and says things she says she didn't actually want and why did she even do so, for example, she agreed to get together with Herald when she didn't exactly plan to, surpising even her own self and ofc making Herald very happy (he is too much of a positive influence on her, both physical and mental, and she couldn't say no, even tho she thinks she wanted to, she didn't, she can't deny it >:]),

-She overall knows something is wrong with her, broken (literally, yknow yknow when), and instead of keeping the destructive habits, tries to get herself together proper and tries to heal, as well as her own self allows and is able of course, and even tries to accept herself somewhat even if it's very hard, she agreed to see the therapist too by Ortega's wishes and recommendation in rebirth and didn't push them away too much in retri, didn't reveal too much either, but wasn't overall hostile, so didn't really regret it that much compared to when she agreed to it and said it helped some,

-Nightmares are still plenty regardless of change (which I hope will change later and she actually can get sleep, cause my god she needs it, every sidestep needs to have a good night sleep),

-As mentioned, she is starting to accept herself, so she is starting to use her puppet a bit less after 2 years and deciding to start going by herself more to wherever she needs to be or mainly in armor rather most of the time though,

-Speaking of the puppet, his name is Jake a white skinned, green eyed, black and green wild haired guy, who got together with Ortega in rebirth and are eternally flirting in retri, which is still the case by the end,

-Puppet met Ortega while boxing, getting some emotions out, they train whenever they can,

-As herself, she became Herald's coach, which was the extent she wanted the connection be, but things took a turn for possibly better than expected,

-Became even more friendly friends by retri with Steel, Ortega, Herald (ofc, who wouldn't) and Mortum through her puppet (broke my heart through the first playthrough tho of retri when Tia gave him the gun as herself and decided it's as good as of a time to tell him something very important [I never regretted anything more in my life, physical and mental damage irl that I didn't think was possible ;-;], hoping tho that it won't bite me later and actually be agood thing),

-Since she unintentionally (def intentionally, even if she doesn't realise) got closer with most of the rangers (other than Argent, they are netrual since rebirth), they all noticed something up with her and always ask "are you okay?", which she at the 4th time was like "why is everyone keep asking me this???", which was honestly pretty funny, getting asked so many times if she is, ofc she isn't, but she won't gonna say it just yet (she did admit it a bit though, with Ortega in rebirth, he did recommend the therapist for a reason),

-Spoon is still the best thing that happened interms of animal interactions, she enjoyed her time with Steel there a ton,

-Would absolutelly be a cat person, if she didn't know better, wouldn't mind a dog either (she needs a therapy dog by the end, I swear, hoping and praying here [even if that doesn't happen, rat king might be better for that purpose for Sidestep specifically]),

-Other than the rangers and a select few, she isn't fond of people regardless of how much change she goes through, that won't change, antisocial all the wayyy babbbyyyy other than friends ofc,

-Compared to rebirth, she calmed down a lot more from the high of her villain self's deput, still that doesn't mean she isn't excited to go and be the villain whenever the time comes, that's still exciting regardless, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have her doubts about wether or not it is truly the right path she decided upon after everything,

-Likes rainy days and water overall. Likes to just watch rainfall from her room, esp likes it when it pours. It's somehow pretty terapeutic just watching and listening to the rain fall. Whenever she is able, she does go to the beach to listen to the waves,

-Likes to wear an almost fully black coat, which is just a very dark shade of blue, likes the fact it is long and almost reach the ground, under it a light blue shirt, with long dark purple pants and formal-ish shoes that are made to make sure she can walk on wet and otherwise problematic surfaces without any trouble, and she wears white gloves.

And I think that's it atm, can't remember more from the top of my head and I think this is plenty for now anyways, I wrote down a lot more than I expected to have! Hopefully this can give a bit more inside into my darling Sidestep, since I'm an artist, I might even draw them depending on if I can stick with what I'm drawing and not just put it on the shelf for later, yknow yknow gjjfj.

Again, thank you for the interest in my gal! If you have anymore questions about her that are more specific and not answered here, just lmk! I don't mind talking about it and aswering, I rather enjoy doing so :]

[ofallthingsnasty]

Yees we need more yandere/dark content with fat reader PLEASE plus if they have self esteem issues (wow me) please we need more of it

I need some self esteem boost from a fucked up weird guy who is obsessed with me😌 (Law please-)

Yes, we really do!! I've been living off early's (391780) work for months now and while I have written a fat reader here and there... We need way more. Especially for more taboo topics, especially because each one of his has different likes and dislikes. Hello, where is my creep who chucks me into their basement bc I am simply hucow shaped??? Someone riddle me that fr 😤

[kiwibirdlafayette]

(this is so dumb, but your newest art reminded me of this convo. love to hear more about mianite pete if you’ve got more lore bits btw!!)

LMIUDUYDEGFB OMG YES canon now. this is canon it was foreshadowing all along I cannot believe this it is not dumb at all m8 im CACKLING

as for lore tidbits 👀 i gotchu i needed an excuse to infodump hehee

Pete began life as a sentient humanoid slime entity, think like cSlimecicle in DSMP where he just kind of learned from observing the champions around him and he gets pretty damn good at a lot of things

When the peeps go to Ruxomar in S2, Pete sort of emerges from the ground and is found by Mianite, who is impressed with his knowledge of stuff from survival to mechanics/tech, and grants him with a similar power to what FyreUK got from Athar, making him a funky little wizard

so he's sort of a mianitee as well bc from what ive learned from the cPete enjoyers is that he values fairness and rules, or basically the facets of order

His skin is like a combination of human and slime, so hes not like perpetually slimy but he's very bouncy (think like perma jump boost)

I like the idea of all wizards in Mianite drawing their magic from the essence of something out of nature (Firez has magma, KillerTom shadows, Brute maybe the sunlight, Wag is plasma/star matter), so in Pete's case, its the swamp biome, like mushrooms, swampland foliage, etc. Fits bc swamp is overworld, which is Mia's domain

Part of his abilities include the ability to procure slimeballs without his wizard powers, good for redstoners bc boom instant sticky piston

he mostly uses his wizard powers for tech related builds moreso then big structures which is how him and Gaines get along so well

his house is filled with a bunch of little slime cubes, whom are all his helpers (mayhaps the Jerrys jordan saw in mianite S1?)

It feels like it would make the most sense for this Pete and the Pete in VH to exist as separate versions of the character (also because I already like the VHPete backstory and design I made a month or so ago) and that could be even funnier if there was a X33n variant in the S1 Mianite universe as well with another name (as its supposed to be Gaines as the X33n in VH) and he technically befriends two multiversal versions of the same guy because I could see him and Gaines gettin along if they hung out. I could also see him being friends with Rupert, who seemed like he was the weapons/tech expert on Capsize's crew, Pete could find some cool way of reinventing somethin im willin to bet

And kind of on the flip side off my tags in the original post, another interpretation of his character could be to put him exclusively in Aitheaca as Wag and Steve's alt in that universe with the same sort of backstory (where Mianite still gave him his powers, but he'd be closer to William and Merina) and powers, but instead of being a more passive figure who's just here to do his own thing and be a god at stuff, is like a Gaines figure to Mianite helping the cause against Ianite and Flash- idk, nothing's really set it stone of course

But yee that's what I've got so far!

[playedbetter]

"if i had a week i couldn't list all the reasons that wouldn't work." -Solas to Dorian

Meme Hoard / Accepting!

"Because there isn't a single one!" Dorian boosted, thrusting his mug of beer as if to cheers to punctuate the point. He of course knew that's not what Solas had meant, the man was probably eager to point out all the ways trying to set Cullen up on a date could fail. "Have some confidence in me, yee of little faith,"

[starthetripledevil]

Mario Legacy Challenge: 1980

We begin a new decade following the end of the 1970s last year. As of now, Jumpman and Lady are living in an apartment with their one daughter, Pauline. But things are about to change...

Jumpman and Lady begin the year feeling flirty.

Not long after, Lady discovers she is pregnant. Being a family-oriented Sim with the Big Happy Family aspiration, she is happy about this.

Lady tells her husband the big news. He is happy too.

Some time later (still in Q1), Lana Yee comes to visit the Marios. While she is here, Jumpman tells her about his time as a professional basketball player (a job which he quit because they made him become the team mascot).

Jumpman also decides to introduce Lana to one of his other friends, his neighbor Emmalyn Winters. Lana seems interested in becoming friends, but Emmalyn not so much.

A major reason for Lana's visit is a flea market which happens to take place near Mario's home apartment (and I guess going there also gives her an opportunity to visit an old friend). Lana and Jumpman go to the flea market together. Lana is sure Jumpman won't be able to haggle successfully.

And she's right.

The vendor here is Elle Craig, a person Lady briefly met while visiting an art gallery a while back.

A while later, Lady also goes to the flea market. She and Elle get along quite well and even become friends.

After the flea market, Lady tells Emmalyn about her pregnancy. And Pauline happens to be there too.

At some later point, Jumpman goes jogging. And he also plays some basketball while he's at it.

All of this boosts his fitness skill to level 7, making it one of 4 skills (along with comedy, logic and handiness) where he's at this level. He has also already reached level 8 in charisma and cooking. This means he only needs to level up in the 4 skills in order to complete the Renaissance Sim aspiration.

Jumpman and Lady read some books to improve their skills even more (handiness for Jumpman and writing for Lady, the latter being something she needs for her job).

Lady's sister Luigeena invites Lady to join her at a festival. (In-game this is the Humor and Hijinks Festival, but I don't think Luigeena would really be the type of person to attend that type of festival, so I will just say this is a tea festival). This is in the same location as the New Year's festival about 10½ years earlier (in which Jumpman celebrated the start of the 1970s).

Just like then, Emmalyn is here again, wearing the same yellow dress. (Just as before, she is joining the Jokesters team.)

A tea which makes its drinker glow yellow (at least until the end of the festival)? This is what Luigeena and Lady came to check out.

The festival also gives those attending the opportunity to paint, so Lady decides to paint a playful painting.

In the summer of 1980, the Marios go on a vacation. They are staying in a vacation home in the Seaside Kingdom, not far away from where Jumpman's former neighbor Kaori and her family live.

The first member of the family they cross paths with is Rangi, Kaori's husband.

And next is Caitlin, Kaori's daughter from before she met Rangi. She was still a child back when Jumpman first met her and now she's a young adult.

Both Pauline and Lady make sand sculptures (individually).

Jumpman makes fish dinner for the family. Jumpman is working as a fisherman as one of his two part-time jobs, though I'm not sure if this particular fish was caught by him.

One day during the Marios' vacation, the Kaori & Parata family comes to visit the place where they are staying.

Here is Kaori and Rangi's daughter (Caitlin's younger half-sister) Rhonda, who was born shortly before the family moved to the Seaside Kingdom. The two children don't seem to get along, however.

Pauline seems to be getting along better with Kaori's older daughter. (They even gained a positive sentiment, but I don't remember which one.)

After the Marios return from their vacation, Jumpman spends some time fishing even outside of work. (With this, he is also improving his fishing skill, as he's at level 2 but needs level 4 in order to be promoted in the fisherman job.)

It's October and Jumpman is in panic as his wife is about to give birth soon.

The babies are twin boys. The older one is named Mario, just like his father (and yes, their last name as well). The younger one is named Luigi, after Aunt Luigeena. That's right. The Super Mario Bros. are here! And with that, Gen 2 has been born.

Pauline meets her new siblings and she's not happy at all. How dare her parents have more children and not give all the attention to her?

And just to recap, here is the full family tree so far. (Including some stuff that hasn't been covered in the Tumblr posts yet on the Robotnik family side. There will be a Tumblr post dedicated to what happens with the Robotnik family, which is basically a side household that's irrelevant to the main story except at the very beginning.)

And pretty much the rest of the year is taking care of the newborn babies. The renovations for giving the twins their bedroom haven't been completed yet.

For Jumpman's experiences in 1981, see this post.

[wealmostaneckbeard]

The California-to-Texas War: A Dark Near-Future Political Drama/War Game

I read a complaint somewhere that mainstream realistic fiction isn't political enough so I decided to write this outline for a super-political near-future story:

An Anti-federalist movement sweeps through Congress of the United States of America. Enough far left and right politicians unite to indefinitely shut down the federal government.

This is the ridiculous premise that sets up the rest of the narrative:

Authority shifts to state governments backed by corporate consortiums. These governments need taxes and corporations want social stability so they work together to keep everything fine for about a decade. Trading state/corpo currencies becomes a somewhat lucrative trade for some people. Micronations form (somewhat) unopposed, some out of Native American reservations, others are religious or ideological enclaves.

Then on a particularly hot day, a number of illegal immigrant laborers die of heat stroke while working at a factory farm in the fictional town of Damocles, Texas. The survivors go on strike and demand better working conditions. The corporation that owns the factory refuses to negotiate and sends in scabs and strikebreakers. The workers don't let anyone cross the line, and in the resulting chaos a local neo-fascist militia gets involved by killing the families of striking workers. The violence is captured on cameras and put on social media.

Meanwhile the Governor of California, Stan Yee, needs to boost his popularity with the local labor unions. So Stan sends a task force to investigate the Damocles Massacre (as it's now being called) and bring to justice whoever was responsible for the killings. Doing so will violate the Texas Republic's territorial sovereignty, but Yee is betting that his Texan counterpart, Randolf Marshall, will allow a few neonazis to be dragged across state lines.

It turns out that Randolf Marshall has several personal connections to the militia, so he'll be damned before he lets some Leftists into His State. The delegation of californian investigators are threatened by various factions and are forced to flee.

Stan attempts to defuse the tension between the two states by opening up diplomatic channels. But Randolf decides to retaliate by secretly hiring PMC paratroopers to air-drop into the Port of Los Angeles and seize control of it. These mercenaries cause a lot of damage and kill a lot of employees working for overseas corporations from Korea, China, and Japan. But they are overwhelmed by angry dock workers, local police, and other security forces. Some of the mercenaries surrender and turn over evidence that Governor Marshall hired them.

Under pressure from all sides, Governor Yee declares war on the state of Texas with the goal of removing it's Governor from power. Shortly after, Governor Marshall reciprocates with his own declaration.

The Northern Theater of the war consists of New Mexico and Arizona, with Nevada, Utah, and Colorado and being on the fringes. The Southern Theater of the war consists of Chihuahua and Sonora, with both Baja California and Tamaulipas being fringe areas.

The forces arraigned against each other are diverse: There are Apache, Navajo, and Hualapai led militias, Foreign Corporate/National Legions, State Guards, and Private Military Companies. They fight each other over rural battlefields and urban fortresses using drones and other advanced weapons developed by the long gone United States. But a death by heatstroke is far more likely for the average soldier than one caused by a weapon, thanks to global warming.

In this near-future hellscape any number of small stories could be told.

[gausses]

🎶share 5 songs you actually listen to and then tag some followers you want to know better 🎶 

got tagged by @sorrel-ly hooookay lets go

Sonne, Strand, Sattla - OG LU

My Summer hit even tho its winter. I got into female german rap for some reason and I'm soaking up every track. And sometimes I find gems like this one. Her other tracks are great too and i thought about either posting her or my other darling yungfsk18. But this song is solid from beginning to end and i even named my wednesday swimming group "Breiter Lat und nackte Brust". Female Rap gives me a confidence or ego boost that is hard to describe.

DEJA VU - dave rodgers

Sometimes you gotta go fast and Super Euro Beat is the fucking way to go. Gives you an instant speed boost while driving but most of the time i listen to it while doing cardio. I hate cardio but i want to improve my stamina and i want to loose some weight. I'm attending a wedding in May and I have a very specific look in my head. Also my work jeans are a bit tight and i have neither the money not the motivation to buy new jeans. So I'm blasting (Super) Euro Dance on the treadmill. Hyper hyper!

Before I knew it - Mason Ramsey

I think i mentioned this song before. But I fucking love country music. It scratches an itch in my brain and is so very divers. There are your Orville Pecks, your Rebas, your Dolly Parton or Johnn Cashs, there is sad country, upbeat country, chill country or just plain bad country to make fun of. No other genre picks me up like that and i enjoy the ride every time. And this Mason Ramsey song SLAPS Every time. When the guitar starts makes that mewewew AAAH Yeaaah i used to be the guy-. I'm pumped. I love guitars and yeeing them haws.

We Got the Moves - Electric Callboy

We should have sent them to ESC. Anyway this song is great and i still love metal (but not the metalheads). My taste in music is either non-existent or just all over the place honestly, but i always return to metal or country. Maybe bc those are also the genres i loved to play myself, even tho i have no talent. I drive a lot and this song is also a fun driving song, thats why i listen to it a lot. Just yelling along. The video is also great. Main thing I look for in songs right now is how well i can yell along and how much they make me want to get up and punch something. I need that extra push at the moment.

Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge

This song is sexy.

-

I'm tagging @davinciae @summerpoison and @emobatsy