#--in some kind of Distorted form ...
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throughpatchesofviolet · 4 months ago
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One thing that I never mention is just how much influence Moriarty has over Sherry--I have imagined her encountering him throughout Limbus Company's story many times, and it's really hard to describe the way he makes her feel ...
She's of course angry at him and wants to take revenge for what he did to Watson, but she does also have this nagging fear of him, too. Yes, there's the fear of him hurting the Sinners, since they're her friends, but there's also this lingering fear of knowing she could be just like Moriarty--it's the classic ''you and I, we're the same'' trope for the hero and villain. The key difference between these two is that Sherry, despite her claims, does care about others, and has developed meaningful relationships built on trust, while Moriarty views his subordinates as pawns that he can command as he sees fit.
But, since I imagine Sherry heads out alone to face Moriarty in her Canto (at first, that is--I have plans /lh), it's very easy for him to get into her head by pouncing on her decision to come along and drilling in his belief that she doesn't trust the Sinners and Dante enough to help her defeat them. That Sherry can only truly depend on herself, and no one else. And, though this is untrue, his words would be enough to make her falter, because ... well, he's right, in a way. Sherry has a very hard time trusting people after the one person she loved most was killed because she trusted him.
So, sure, she can say she went off alone because she wanted to keep the Sinners safe from Moriarty, but is that really the truth? It may appear she's thinking of them, and putting their well-being first, but isn't she truly doing this so she doesn't get hurt again? Or is it because she wants the satisfaction of bringing Moriarty down herself, without the others trying to intervene and stop her? Does her vengeance--the justice she feels she deserves--matter more to her than her friends?
That, I feel, would be her lowest point. The moment that her deepest fear has been realized--that she and Moriarty are the same.
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grumpyoldsnake · 2 years ago
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One of these days. One of these days, I will figure out what the hell makes the tipping point beyond which either a) there’s socialization that I feel insulated from and kind of numb about and too tired to pursue, or b) socialization where the very notion of so much as expressing one (1) internal thought or emotion suffuses my whole body with adrenaline and blaring Nope instincts.
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nomaishuttle · 2 years ago
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comparison (new on left old on right)
#As you can see i was mainly working ln fixing the distortion on the poles i did get a bittt carried away and add like a ton of oand but its#ok. also i did the math and its sitting at abt 40:60 land water ratio#rly its 41:59 but 40 60 is far easier#ive also still got to add rivers.. i have a few lakes as you can see but i haven't gone through and added rivers yet#ill probably have to do mountains first then rivers....#ive also been thinking abt making a sideblog solely for worldbuilding posts but im shy LOL so itd probably judt be 4 me#i wouldnt be opposed to sharing it with anybody whos interested i just dont think anybody rly is...#im also working more on the language its kiiiind of rly frustrating me..#i also have gaught to add a new island in the middle of the ocean bc ive been thinking while at work. but idk if i Actually want to use#those thoughts 4 this or keep them seperate.. whatevrr#but yeah. as mentioned the edits arent perfect yrt theyre kind of difficult to do 😭😭 map to globe doesnt allow you to draw directly On#the globe and the umm. sketch thing they have is kind of rlly annoying#like you can colorpick Once. but after that you have to reload the page to colorpick again#+ the likee. drawing you do on it is super artifacted and weird... + theres no way to just get the finished image idt. i may be wrong#but yes. anyways if i do make the sodeblog i wanna name it after the world but the issue is the world doesnt have a name 💀#and to make the name i need to work on the primary conlang some more 😭😭😭 but its frustrating me i think its bc i started with the#written form which like. every guide im looking at says you shouldnt do that 💀#so i might just scrap it and start from the ground up
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faetealights · 10 months ago
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#now i am absolutely playing and spinning the wheel of . am i going to get sad abt That .#i was a lil bummed abt it yesterday . byt at some point i think i did realise theres probsbly a reason#bc . there was absolutwly divine play happening yesterday . oh my fucking god .#but . anyway having to like rlly pull myself away formcthat glass is having . a negative . distortion#in my brain of some form idk. i cant talk abt it vut im trying to just .#bc while im typing this out and . stringing words tgth that makr No Sense to nayone#egen me sometimes#my brains doing some kind ofnsorting anf its . good? bc itd actually working through what the issue is or wtv. even if whats cominf#outbof my mouth or in text form makes no fucking sense#bc i know whats going on up there. i know that what im saying is helping some kind of dot and pattern so i can get over#whatever thr fuck is upsetting me . bc atp im not . ipset aby anything fucking NEW anymorem#im still putting away my past toys and knives!!!!! why !!!!! why am i still closing doors on old cycles ajd wounds !!!!#50/50 i have been ignoring it and not doing it properly . 50/50 theres stuff i havent been allowed to actually#heal from or access yet regardless. n i do see why ! bc i think abt how ive felt w some of these revelations#and know if id come to this or saw thus or WHATEVER 1 2 or even 4 months ago . provably wouldve done smth drastic . bc i keep slmost#fucking doijg dhit n i just . im not supposed to this time. i know that.#my job is to sit down and shut up. im supposed to docthis (mostly) on my own and without doing whay#my stupid ego wants to do >:( die
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zstartrixxx · 22 days ago
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𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 '𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐔, 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍'.
ʳᵉᵐᵐᶦᶜᵏ ˣ ᵛᵃᵐᵖꜝʷᶦᶠᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: 𝐘𝐄𝐒 | 𝐍𝐎
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: If being loved by a vampire means carrying eternity within you, what you have with Remmick is incarnate: his poison lives in your flesh, you are blood of his blood, a creature of his making. And because you are a part of him—a fragment that broke free and passed into you, sometimes even a sliver of his ancient soul trapped inside that dead body—everything you feel, he feels, and vice versa. Fleeing the imminent extinction of these lands, you and Remmick seek refuge in each other once more, bound together. Eternally, for he would never let you sever this tie—unless he were dead. Past and future memories knot inside you. Here, now—all blood and teeth—you fuse with your maker, your sacrament, your eternal groom. 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: this particular piece was a deeply interesting and special writing experience for me: not only did i get to explore the hivemind concept, but i also played more freely with language and the essence of remmick as a character. so let me make one thing clear: it’s never my intention to distort the film’s canonical portrayal, but rather—through poetic license combined with the possibilities of fanfiction’s universe, PLUS the way i’ve absorbed and interpreted the character—my version of remmick (at least in my fics) might not be as literal as the original script. that said: here we have this scenario with a wife, which i initially imagine takes place before the film’s events, but the specifics of when, how, and where she was transformed are entirely up to your interpretation (before his arrival in the us in 1911? somewhere between the early or late middle ages? the modern era? europe, asia, or africa... let your imagination run wild ;) i’ve also paraphrased/incorporated certain very specific lines and moments from the film. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +16 CONTENT. i think there's a lot of angst here and reader melancholy, so keep that in mind. use of some words in gaelic, i had to resort to good old google, if there is something wrong please tell me. remmik here it's (super) protective, almost toxic; hivemind concept explored, lots of internal dialogue, some gore (explicit description of blood and bruises), vampirism (blood consummation), and a slight sexual innuendo thrown in. 𝐖𝐂: 6k for whoever is going to read it, a great read! <3 likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)
𝖱𝖤𝖬𝖬𝖨𝖢𝖪 𝖯𝖫𝖠𝖸𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳 | 𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳
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"turn to me, and love me like you lacerate; just hold me down like i don’t need air." (air, shedfromthebody)
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Your skin burned like Hell itself, which was kind of funny to think about: back when you were human, you loved spending your days under the hot sun, lying on the grass in the late afternoon and gazing up at the cloudless sky, where strange shapes would form just for you. You wasted away the days at the lake, naked, floating between water and sunlight, between cold and heat, simply existing.
Now, all you could feel was the searing pain ripping through your skin, sizzling in your ears like meat in a frying pan. Weak, you tried to run, but your legs wouldn’t obey, and your feet tangled with every step across the dry land, scattered with dead corn leaves. The rustle of the leaves irritated you, but what truly drove you mad were the screams echoing from behind, drowning out any coherent thought, merging with the heavy air that entered your lungs that no longer breathed. And that felt like a death sentence: not only the sun was paralyzing you, but also the distorted sounds that confused you, like a wounded animal, utterly disoriented.
You stopped in the middle of the cornfield, glancing around, trying to stay grounded, trying to reconnect the thread of thought between the two of you, searching through the suffocating haze for Remmick’s voice, calling him with panic and urgency, desperate for him to come save you. You looked at your shoulders: raw, scorched, smelling the acrid scent of burnt flesh rising from your own body. You shut your eyes, trying to find him, your voice lethargic: “Remmick… Remmick.”
Your vision began to darken, your body no longer felt like your own—it felt like it was floating, detaching, as if your soul—or what was left of it—was slipping out of you. Just like you’d felt a piece of yourself dying the last time you glimpsed sunlight through your human eyes, maybe ceasing to exist in that land would feel the same. All you had to do was slowly close your eyes, embrace the darkness once again, surrender to the searing fire that would extinguish you—and that would be it. You opened your eyes slowly, staring at the mighty sun before you: scorching, like your mother’s hugs, your grandmother’s kisses. Like Remmick’s grip when you were still human. Your entire body burned, tiny flames piercing through you, tears of blood trickling from your eyes. How long had it been since you felt even remotely human? All you had to do was give in, speak the one name that echoed in your mind, etched into your blood.
Remmick.
In poison and blood, within you. He was you and you were him. Remmick.
‘—Remmick, if you can hear me one last time, know that I—’
“Got you!” his voice came, rough and wounded, behind you. Firm hands grabbed you by the waist, your body partially covered by another, pressed against Remmick’s rigid frame. He whispered against your ear: “You’re safe, mo chroí (mu khree / my heart). Come with me.” He pulled you even tighter against his scorched body, shielding you like a protective shell, guiding you with quick steps into the heart of the cornfield. In the distance, the furious screams of some villagers echoed behind you. But despite the world turning into hell around you and everything seeming like the end, you felt safe in his arms.
Remmick looked back, staggering, using his sharp senses to search for any possible escape for the two of you. His left eye was swollen from the punch he took, combined with the sun’s deadly effect, and even with limited vision, he managed to find a way out from the horde chasing you.
You couldn’t stay upright. The sun’s weakness made it feel like your bones were nothing but dust beneath your scorched flesh. Tears of blood stung your eyes and soul, or whatever was trapped inside that immortal body, sharing a collective mind with Remmick and so many others before you. It longed desperately to escape this life and finally rest. But Remmick wouldn’t let that happen—oh no, let the pagan gods or the Christian God himself punish him with the harshest tortures if he did. You could feel that wrathful pain mixed with ancient rage flowing from him, harshly projected in flames and poisonous blood from him to you, as he nearly threw himself on top of you like a (scorched) leather jacket just to protect you. Madness. The voices grew longer, more indistinct, the hateful chorus fading, as Remmick, with his one good eye, searched for shelter.
Then, as if by magic, fate, or just the luck of some devil who still wanted to see you both wander through God's vast lands, there it was—a house beyond the edge of the cornfield. The perfect shelter. ‘Living food, darkness... —Remmick, don’t get your hopes up.—’ you thought back, replying to your creator’s voice with a sarcasm that didn’t quite match the moment. As always, he laughed—loudly, though the laugh came with dry, desperate gasps. He laughed. Even all fucked up, more than you, sizzling in pain and crying in despair to stay alive, he still found humor in his own misery.
“You’re getting real cheeky, huh, my little thing?”
“You’re the one who taught me to be like this, Remmy,” you managed to say, despite the bitter taste of blood rising in your throat—extremely unpleasant when it was your own blood boiling inside you. Remmick glanced over his shoulder, noticing for now that you were safe. He looked forward again, at what seemed like a mirage of a desolate wooden shack, dark, with the door and windows shut. It looked uninhabited to you. ‘—Love, don’t be so hopeless. Of course, there’ll be someone in there to be dinner. Or rather, lunch, given the time.—’ his voice cut through again, tugging you sideways, his hot and battered hand grabbing your forearm, where deep layers of your dermis were starting to show, making you let out a faint whimper. Remmick gave you an almost hurt look, immediately releasing his grip.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s fine. What’s a squeeze compared to almost melting under the sun, right?”
“You’re something else...” he muttered in disbelief, though his voice was laced with distress and anguish—a soft hint of the pain he was enduring. —If he died, you’d go with him by extension, in the worst possible way.— That was what was running through his disturbed mind, making you wonder whether you’d ever have a happy ending under those conditions. Remmick quickened his pace, and you followed beside him, feeling like the path to the house was more of a road to Hell than a material refuge. You were starting to believe it was a mirage and the Devil was waiting on the other side to welcome you both into his lap. ‘—Pathetic, darling. Pathetic.—’ ‘—Just like you, sweetheart.—’
Remmick ignored your retort, dragging himself up the steps, changing his expression as he began to shout for help. A wounded animal, fatally injured, a hoarse rasp clawing out of his throat, begging for help, pounding on the door with force. The sun’s haze was poisoning him—and therefore you—draining what little strength was left, forcing your bodies to absorb the foul smell of rotting flesh; even if your lungs didn’t breathe, they still had the cursed privilege of smelling. And even as supernatural beings, defying all human logic, you were still condemned to be inside those fragile bodies, exhaling the scent of flesh, blood, bone, thick saliva, venom, and a unique perfume your walking corpses carried. Not decay, but something more… floral? And that specific scent, like night-blooming jasmine in a graveyard or a dried rose in your garden, grew stronger as the mortal flesh imprisoning your immortal soul deteriorated.
Remmick kept pounding on the door and maybe—just maybe—with a little more effort, he’d become the first vampire to break the universal law by forcing his way in without being invited. He looked at you, distressed, his expression one of real pain. You pulled away from him, walking to a window layered in thick dust, wiping it with your palm. The cold, gritty surface scratched your sensitive skin even more. You peered inside and confirmed: ‘—There’s no one. It’s empty.—’ Remmick looked at you, almost dumbfounded, hearing your inner voice. He turned to the door, where simply twisting the doorknob opened it. The air inside was cold and stagnant, dust and mold, old wood and moth-eaten fabric, with an unwelcoming scent—but still, it carried that unmistakable smell of an uninhabited place. No human warmth or familiar energy.
Remmick was so relieved he dropped to his knees, like a devout soul who, tired of resisting sin, finally accepts divine punishment in good faith—arms open, body surrendering as he let himself fall into the house. You stood beside him, watching with a mixture of mercy for the poor wretch who was suffering, and with that sharp pain—hating, in a way, to share with him the memory and the collective sense of it all, because his pain was also yours.
Remmick crawled inside. You followed him, on your feet—weak, but standing. You looked one last time outside, toward the distance beyond the cornfield, where, by some divine mercy, those who had hunted you seemed to have gone. Just above, the burning afternoon sun pulsed like a condemning god, seated upon his sky-blue throne, mercilessly casting down his punishments upon you, poor wicked creatures.
You shut the door with a long groan, echoing the moan of the vampire now lying delicately at your feet—a strange sound between a whimper and the whine of a frightened dog. His hands were stretched above his head, face pressed to the floor, writhing from side to side, somewhere between fragile and furious at being forced into such a wretched state.
Through your mind, you could feel him tearing:
‘—These monsters will pay. As soon as the sun sets, I’ll hunt them one by one, haunt them in their homes, show them my wrath and my cruelty. Blood, blood… blood.—’
Your mind was now lapsing into a time far older than you, to a moment when Remmick’s humanity had been broken by the vampire’s curse—when the strangers came and took his land, his name, his faith. His prayers were converted, and all he saw before him were silver crosses and plaster Jesuses while he was taught the Lord’s Prayer. All of it disturbed you deeply. He clung so tightly to his roots that it made you feel everything: the fire of the scorched land, the spilled blood, the faithful ones he later killed one by one, the lands devastated by plague and by gold.
You closed your eyes, trying to impose your memories over his—to interrupt the bond that was bigger than either of you. You tried to think of blooming gardens bathed in sunlight, lazy afternoons of picnics and reading under trees, nights of endless dancing and joy.
Remmick stopped thrashing. His shoulders stilled, and his whimpers faded as he was slowly filled with his own memories, gradually regaining his strength and sobriety. He propped himself up on his arms—once feeble and lethargic, with bones eroded and flesh still scorched by burns—then raised himself and looked at you, a crooked smile forming on his lips:
“You’re always taking care of me, a aingeal.” (ah ang-yal | my angel).
“I was just trying to make you stop with those nightmares disguised as memories. I’m aching all over.” Your voice was somewhat harsh, despite your weakness, as you leaned your body against the wall, between the door and the window, where dust managed to dimly filter the sunlight. You were safe from the condemnation of the light.
Remmick rested his head. A look of sadness, lit by the darkness in his pupils, stirred something in your heart that no longer beat.
“I can’t let go of who I once was… even after all these years, there are pains that scar between our flesh and our soul, binding us to them forever…”
“I know. I know—” you smiled, somewhere between honesty and levity, trying to stay upright, feeling your body pulse and bleed, crying for healing. Remmick was in considerably better shape than you, even in his sorry state—his cotton shirt filthy with mud and dust, torn and bloodied from burned flesh; his pants tattered, shoes worn through, one bruised eye set into cadaverous skin with a polished hunger. He was enduring. The dark gifts made him far stronger than you. “—I’m just not in the best condition to relive those pains with you, not when mine are a little too real right now.”
Remmick nodded, drinking in your words, staring at you with glowing, coppery-red eyes—dim yet luminous—finally seeing your pain. His face twisted with worry and a flicker of anger as he staggered closer:
“Mo ghrá geal” (muh grah gyahl | my bright love), “they really hurt you, didn’t they…”
Then, Remmick recalled the grim scene when one of the townsfolk had found your hiding place—a house just as old and decrepit as the one you now sheltered in. The two of you were lying there together, side by side, entwined like tragic lovers, waiting for death—and maybe that had been part of the attraction, for just a few more seconds in that eternal rest, and you would have had a truly tragic end. Remmick remembered the moment the light from a blocked-out window was smashed through and the burn that followed. He opened his eyes instantly. You were still locked in your unshakable sleep when they grabbed you by the arms. He had fought men wielding torches and harvest tools. Then you saw it through his eyes: your body being pulled away—a blur. And you felt his fear and desolation as he fought off the frantic villagers to try and save you.
Then the man’s voice rang out again, clear and strong, a wounded hand touching your face with surprising gentleness:
“We almost didn’t make it out of there… If it had been closer to sunset, not a single one of those bastards would’ve made it—”
“Remmick.” His name traced your lips and tongue, thorny like the man himself. “They’re not to blame for acting the way they do—just like we, flawed murderous animals, once acted. They too have the right to want to destroy us. Wasn’t it you who taught me that human truth? That’s how we lived before we perished. That’s how we’ll go on existing, as long as we do.”
“Existing.” He clicked his tongue, and a sudden shadow passed through his eyes. For a second, his mind grew too clouded for you to read, to hear—but the visceral rage boiling in his venomous blood, oh, that you felt, bitter as it burned your dry throat. Dryness began to crack your lips. It weakened your warm body even more and made you feel the dark delusions start to crawl through the corners of your mind; that’s what happened when you weren’t fed—no matter how exceptional your self-control was, and even if you could resist without the human liquor for days, when you were in that state of true death, your body nearly collapsed.
Remmick dragged his pitiful, suffering gaze across your face. Around your minds, words in ancient Gaelic spun like ancestral chants—he was thinking about something beyond you.
His hand slid up to your face, grabbing your hair from behind, gripping it as he gently pulled it back, exposing the soft, burned, but still velvety skin of your neck. The cradle of your sacred blood—from where he had once drawn your human warmth into himself and given you, in return, the venom that turned you into him. And even though your heart no longer beat as before, when he first heard it, and your blood wasn’t warm enough to quench his thirst anymore, it was the vampire’s opium.
Remmick always thought of that comparison when he grazed his fangs lightly against your skin before penetrating it to anesthetize himself in your ecstasy:
‘—Your blood was sweet and warm when your heart throbbed between your ribs. But now, with my lymph and the poison of my being, it tastes better—bittersweet, undead. Our blood.—’
It made you moan and whimper.
Your hands pressed against his chest, palms open, trying to push him away from you:
“Remmy, are you sure about this?” you looked at him uncertainly, trying to find in him the assurance for the act.
Remmick didn’t answer you with words—not the kind spoken aloud:
“As weak as we are, there’s no one here, my love. Either we drink from each other, or we die like strays in this godforsaken place. Feed on my blood before you cease to exist…”
It wasn’t a request anymore by the time he was already pulling you closer to expose your neck, pressing his rough lips and sharp teeth against you, piercing the skin like needles.
Remmick held onto this belief that he didn’t need to ask much of you, because as you were one mind, everything he wanted was what you desired too.
Your eyes closed as you felt your flesh torn by his fangs—hard against your skin, like a stiff piece of leather being pierced by a sharp knife—until it reached where the blood, crawling weakly through your body, began to emerge in thick sobs, filling his mouth with your syrupy, bloody liquor. You were consumed by the burning and the sensation of ecstasy the act gave you, your body floating in the hands of the man who groaned with primal pleasure at being nourished by your life source.
Remmick also held the belief that since you carried his seed—that divine-profane gift of eternal life within your blood—through the consummation of acts and the laws of an ancient soul, you were part of a whole that pulsed with life. His life, yours, and those who would come after you both, all connected through that cursed and blood-stained lineage.
You squirmed restlessly in his hands. His claws were already out, tangled in your hair, scratching your waist as he held you as close as possible, bound to his pleading kiss.
Remmick whispered to you in thought:
“Mine, mine, mo mhianta (muh vee-an-tah / my desire), my life, my blood…”
—like a prayer, a rosary he recited bead by bead, his body burning as he inevitably felt his venom enter you. 
“Remmick—” your voice was pure wine of death, your nose the iron scent of flesh, your mind a stupor of souls that preceded you, strange voices you had learned empirically, faintly recalling the vampire Remmick who crushed you between teeth and acid; “—I think that’s enough, my love.”
Remmick let out an exasperated groan that vibrated against your mark, sucked a final portion of blood vigorously, licked the flesh slowly, then rose, revealing his face intact and free of wounds, his chin smeared with your crimson iron honey, eyes shimmering like copper pearls between iron and bloodlust. He smiled at you—there was heavy panting from paused lungs, a fresh breath, an almost spiritual renewal of his being.
“You are so delicious, blood of my blood, that it’s impossible not to want to drain your last blessed drop.”
He laughed—cursed and amused—raising his wrist to his own lips, biting it as if biting a pomegranate that exploded between his teeth, flesh and juice dripping at the corners of his mouth already stained with your blood; he extended his open wrist to you like bread to the dying, an offering to his god, waiting with generous eyes burning in the insane passion of his soul for yours.
His mouth salivated with the yearning to take it for himself, to drink from that wine that intoxicated you once and every time you drank it—in nights of lust where you feasted on the delights of the flesh, it intoxicated you.
There were sparks in your chest that burned from Remmick’s venom in your body, making you remember when he took you for himself, forever; Remmick appeared like a chorus behind you, chasing you through the darkness of forests and ancient buildings, ruins of nights wandering without meaning, inviting you to let him enter you repeatedly, giving him what he wanted, feeding the beast with your youthful joy, the beating heart—that which he had lost centuries ago, perhaps millennia. Life.
And once, proving that his love for blood and pain was greater than all lust or pleasure given to you, he offered you his ultimate love: he penetrated you with teeth and curses, buried memories imposed on you, suffocating you, watching you die before him, rot like a flower once beautiful and vibrant, now dry and hardened. Watching you rise with bright eyes and his bestial thirst, laughing and dancing with him, celebrating your new self. Or was it a piece of him, while you were trapped between so many layers of the one who created you?
And yet there you were, looking at him with veneration and anguish, taking his wrist with your misshapen fingers, claws that extended in excessive knots, placing your mouth against the torn hole that poured that offering of his flesh.
Oh, Remmick had your flavor too.
Sweet death he exhaled, primal sex and poisoned wine.
Feeding you slowly, bringing through that damned mortal sap your salvation.
You felt yourself revive, whining softly against his wrist, looking with complicity as Remmick watched you with the pleasure of pleasures on his face: parted lips, arched brows, eyes sparkling with desire and ardor. You smiled back, returning that passion, a hiss escaping from his mouth, pleasure bending between the memories shared through blood. His mouth detached from the bite’s embrace, a dull snap of flesh pulling away, the vampire’s blood dripping in sticky, thick drops like a whip on the wooden floor, a small pool of that iron blood separating you both.
He tilted his head back, satisfied, with a jubilation of pearl-ruby teeth, saying full of himself:
“Now we’re better!” He laughed between his teeth, while you felt his blood slide through you, healing the stigmata on your skin, slowly and pleasurably renewing you—him crawling between your bones and flesh, burrowing deeper into you as he pierced you with those eyes.
Remmick drew closer, your hands returned to normal, fingers caressing your now-soft skin, leaning down to kiss your lips with the sweetness of his honey staining them crimson, whispering through your mind:
‘—All we need now is rest, and once night falls, we can celebrate this moment together.—’
Eternal promises. As always, typical of him.
You welcomed him with open lips, tongue caressing his, you and he merging—blood and saliva, venom and the growls from the depths of your thirsty throats, your hands tangling into each other, desperate grips of bodies that loved each other through finite eternity.
In your dreams — or in that cathartic state of complete darkness of rest — all you had in your mind were the outlines of dreams of humans who had wandered through the eternities beside Remmick. You were a peasant in Irish lands, an English priest with golden teeth, a mathematician in Arabia, a physician from Prussian soil, a single mother prostituting herself in the streets of Whitechapel; everything and everyone. You were a pagan elder turned faithful parish priest. A hopeful young woman turned the vilest of executioners. Everything and everyone — and him.
Him.
Emerging in red, blue, purple, and black, from the shadows, blood dripping from his chin, stealing souls and stories like a devoted collector, a historian digging through pages and pages for what might fill his own gaps. Remmick pulled you by the hand like a savior — or a beast. That blurred in the shadows and forms, as he brought you into the light.
The light of consciousness, of being awake, of knowing night had finally fallen and you could once again wander among humans.
You opened your eyes with a sharp blink, seeing through a timid penumbra lit by a single candle — who knows where the hell Remmick had found it — exhaling, while he gently caressed your face, the tip of his finger tapping lightly against your nose, a serenity on his face that, under the warm golden light, almost seemed human. You smiled, rubbed your eyes, and let out a vocal exhale — a human habit you’d kept not to feel so detached from your nature — wetted your lips, surprised by the nudity of the man sitting at your side on that old bed, hard mattress, rickety frame that had served perfectly for your rest.
At the window, beyond the drawn curtain, a few wooden planks nailed to keep sunlight out were now opened, allowing the pale-silver glow of a Full Moon to shine on you. Between the bluish-gray mingling with the candle’s yellow-red, his slender and muscular body — shaped by the years when he was just a man of the land, using his bare strength — stood naturally before you.
His face, smiling at you tenderly, was damp, drops of water clinging to his nose, ears, and chin. A scent of dried flowers and soap wafted from his pale skin. His voice was soft:
“Come with me, a aingeal,” (ah ang-yal | my angel), “let’s take a bath to wash off this infernal day.”
Laughter spilled from both your mouths — irony mixed with ease — as his hand gently pulled you up, guiding you barefoot across the wooden floor, echoing down a narrow hallway toward what must have been the bathroom. Remmick nodded toward the wooden bathtub. Beside it, atop a chair, several candles were stuck upright with their own melted wax, casting a flickering light beside the moonlight that poured silver through the window.
“I cleaned it a bit before using, fetched some water from the well, and luckily found some flowers and a dried-up bar of soap lying around. Seems like the people who lived here left in a hurry — there’s still canned food and clothes in some closets. Let me help you!”
He placed the candle on the chair and undressed you, slipping off your dress and tossing it aside, smiling at your nudity, placing his hands at your waist as if admiring a statue sculpted by his own hands — a creation of his creation.
“Sit down. I’ll bathe you...” he said in a velvet tone, guiding your body into the cold water, which wrapped around your skin as he began to rub it with water, fragrant flower petals, and diluted soap.
And there you sat, still, watching him care for you — though you knew well what he was thinking.
‘—The hunt, the revenge against those who inflicted pain on us and—’
“Remmy…”
Your hand found his, pulling him from the depths of his thoughts, gripping the hand that tended to you, “...stop, at least for now. Just think of something else.”
“What else could I possibly think about?”
“In other things, I don’t know, think about music, about dance, about me...”
“I don’t need to think about those things because they’re already in me, darling. It’s almost a pleonasm, as that old professor we ate once said, remember?”
“The one we ate? What an absurd thing to say!”
“Sweetheart, seriously?” Remmick tilted his head to the side, a mischievous little smile playing on his lips. He stopped rubbing the dried blood off his neck to look at you with cynicism. “You, of all people, who loves sinking your teeth into those juicy necks that show up for us!? You, blood of my blood, my own creation, poison of my poison who...” he paused, narrowing his eyes, his voice coming out in a thin whisper, “loves sinking those pretty little teeth of yours into the most unusual places!?”
A daring finger touched your lips, slipping between them, lightly scraping your canine with its nail. You stared at him calmly, studying him in that unashamed nakedness, amused by you. Rolling your eyes, you pushed his hand away from your mouth.
“Pathetic. That’s what you are sometimes.”
“I love you too, my darlin’.” He chuckled through his teeth, returning to wiping the bloodstain from his skin, focusing on the act. Even in that silence made of voices loudly spoken, your minds were speaking through images, memories flowing back and forth in a stream of consciousness, undulating like the water that surrounded your body, tracing that eternal conversation you both had. Deep down you knew he wanted to go out hunting, to get drunk on fresh human blood, and then return to this shelter, take you in his arms and possess you in the most animalistic way possible. But on your end, you still felt his venom lingering through your body, the blood that had served as both nourishment and healing still casting a haze over your senses. Ancient blood from someone who had lived so long it carried stigmas. Strong, dense, defiled, concentrated.
Remmick finished scrubbing you, stood up from your side, and left the room, staying outside for a few minutes, leaving you immersed in the water and the moonlight. Thinking. For a moment, your mind seemed to detach from his, floating through the corridors of your own being—you saw yourself among humans, walking barefoot, feeling that burning thirst in your throat, the bile of anger tormenting you even as your melancholy made you ethereal; sucking foreign blood, capturing life stories for yourself. Remmick reached out a hand to you—a claw—with the ghastly smile of all the dead, always whispering to you: “Mo mhianta” (muh vee-an-tah / my desire), in your mother tongue. Remmick… Remmick. The one who created you and now was you too, part of your desires, part of your life, part of your soul. Would you ever be able to break away from that guiding thread? From the one who offered you both death and life? Would you be able to disconnect and be just… you?
Remmick emerged from the darkness of the house, carrying a bundle of clothes in his hands, wearing a pair of soft-fabric pants, his torso still bare. He smiled with those secrets he could hide from you between his lips:
“No, I believe that if one day you no longer belong to me, I’ll probably be dead.”
“Reading my thoughts again?”
The question was practically rhetorical, laced with a certain bitterness you couldn’t hold back. Standing before you, the vampire handed you the clothes.
“I am them. Even when you try to escape through the corners of your thoughts, I’m there.” Remmick smiled, sharp teeth glinting, a suggestion shining in his eyes like a beast ready to kill.
“Come on, love, the night is a child crying to be fed.”
“Smartass,” you hissed through your teeth, rolling your eyes. When you rose from the bathtub, your eyes suddenly caught sight of two figures approaching in the distance. Remmick didn’t even need to be warned—he was already spying from the corner of the window, his thoughts starting to hiss like a rabid wolf growling, thirsty for blood and slaughter. He turned his face toward you, a sharp smile while his eyes tiled the blood of the defeated. His tongue was a blade between needle-sharp teeth:
“We shall have a special feast, my love!”
The house was dark.
Its scent was of dust and stagnant wood, dry and moldy. In the background, you could catch the smell of melted wax. No noise. When that couple stepped into the house, shotguns in hand, eyes wide with fear, all they wanted was to play heroes for the little town—hunt the monsters that had been parasitizing the area and receive applause for their brave deeds. Fueled by fear and pride, they wanted to hold in their hands the heads of those two who had earlier been hunted and, for some reason, had disappeared; and there they were, in that shack abandoned for weeks—maybe months—eyeing each other with unease.
The woman said, glancing around the first room, a lantern serving as a flashlight:
“I don’t think it was a good idea to come here at night…”
“Nonsense, woman—we’ll catch those monsters before they go messing around with anyone else,” the man shrugged, walking toward the hallway, the woman right behind him—until she heard a little noise beside her, at the open door.
The man kept walking, oblivious to his wife, heading toward the back of the house, finding a side room with its door ajar—he pushed it open the rest of the way with the barrel of the shotgun, the wooden door creaking slowly, revealing a bed.
And a woman lying on it, back turned. Naked.
A shiver ran down his spine, his breath grew heavy, heart pounding against his ribs, and beyond all that, a wicked voice called him to approach her—that nest of lust and desire. Ignoring his partner, he let curiosity and depravity take over. He lowered his weapon, step by step, now close to the woman’s body, his hand trembling as it reached toward her, while the other held the lantern swaying noisily at his side, its yellow light flickering across the sleeping body.
“Have mercy on me!”
A high-pitched scream came from deeper in the house. The man startled and turned, dropping the lantern to the floor, where it shattered and sparked into flames. He raised his weapon again, spinning around—only to find a man behind him.
Eyes glowing with an inhuman red glint.
A macabre grin stained with blood painted his chin, his neck, his bare chest.
A rustle behind him made his knees weaken with fear; a cold gust of air fed the fire now licking at the wooden floor. He looked over his shoulder and saw you awake—eyes just as luminous as the monster in front of him, thick saliva dripping from your chin.
As he tried to scream, a hand clamped over his mouth—metallic blood flooded his tongue.
A tear welled up in his eye.
The vampire’s voice in front of him rasped out, bestial and raw:
“Shhhh… Shhhh… Don’t cry now. Didn’t your mother teach you it’s wrong to mess with someone else’s woman?”
And he laughed—demonic—gripping the man’s throat, nearly choking him, as you remained behind, salivating for the living blood pulsing through his arteries. Remmick looked at you from the side, tilting his head, his voice undulating between the three of you like a serpent shaking its venom:
“Darling, your wife was delicious! I hope you taste just as good for my wife!”
The man screamed with all the air in his lungs, while Remmick offered him up like an animal for ritual slaughter—offering him to you. And you took him from behind, draining him with the ease of mortality—no pity, no hesitation.
Remmick watched you with affection and admiration, something growing inside him with the euphoric pleasure of a successful hunt. When you finished draining the man, his corpse now at your feet, he held out his hand to you.
You took it, letting him lead you out of that room to the front of the house, where the open door allowed the silvery light to touch your naked body, your face covered in scarlet—just like his. Remmick cupped your face in his hands, looking at you with his soul reflected in your eyes:
“My girl, how do you feel?”
“Perfect. Just a little… overwhelmed. I think it’s the thrill of the hunt.”
“Good—” he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips in a wet, filthy kiss—saliva and blood, soft tongue brushing pearly teeth. When he pulled away, a string of bloody spit still connected your mouths.
“—'Cause now, you’ll let me take care of you, darlin’. The way you deserve.”
You felt him penetrate you through the soul, his hands pulling you close into the kiss of the dead upon your lips, speaking to you through your minds:
‘—Let me take care of you, darling, let me take care of you, let me show you how good I can be for you…—’
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𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: maybe it deviated a little from the initial concept of the request (idk), but this one was by far one of the fanfics with Remmy that i enjoyed writing the most, it's side-by-side with my fanfic involving priests, religion, Christian guilt, vampirism, remmick and other little things…
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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 month ago
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The meritocracy to eugenics pipeline
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I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in PDX on Jun 20 at BARNES AND NOBLE with BUNNIE HUANG. After that, it's LONDON (Jul 1) and MANCHESTER (Jul 2).
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It's kinda weird how, the more oligarchic our society gets, the more racist it gets. Why is the rise of billionaires attended by a revival of discredited eugenic ideas, dressed up in modern euphemisms like "race realism" and "human diversity"?
I think the answer lies in JK Galbraith's observation that "The modern conservative is engaged in one of man's oldest exercises in moral philosophy; that is, the search for a superior moral justification for selfishness."
The theory of markets goes like this: a market is a giant computer that is always crunching all kinds of "signals" about what people want and how much they want it, and which companies and individuals are most suited to different roles within the system. The laissez-faire proposition is that if we just resist the temptation to futz with the computer (to "distort the market"), it will select the best person for each position: workers, consumers, and, of course, "capital allocators" who decide where the money goes and thus what gets made.
The vast, distributed market computer is said to be superior to any kind of "central planning" because it can integrate new facts quickly and adjust production to suit varying needs. Let rents rise too high and the computer will trigger the subroutine that brings "self-interested" ("greedy") people into the market to build more housing and get a share of those sky-high rents, "coming back into equilibrium." But allow a bureaucracy to gum up the computer with a bunch of rules about how that housing should be built and the "lure new homebuilders" program will crash. Likewise, if the government steps in to cap the price of rents, the "price signal" will be silenced and that "new homebuilders" program won't even be triggered.
There's some logic to this. There are plenty of good things that market actors do that are motivated by self-interest rather than altruism. When Google founders Larry Page and Sergey Brin developed their Pagerank algorithm and revolutionized internet search, they weren't just solving a cool computer science problem – they were hoping to get rich.
But here's the thing: if you let Larry and Sergey tap the capital markets – if they can put on a convincing show for the "capital allocators" – then the market will happily supply them with the billions they need to buy and neutralize their competitors, to create barriers to entry for superior search engines, and become the "central planners" that market theory so deplores. If your business can't get any market oxygen, if no audience ever discovers your creative endeavors, does it matter if the central planner who decided you don't deserve a chance is elected or nominated by "the market"?
Here's how self-proclaimed market enthusiasts answer that question: all Larry and Sergey are doing here is another form of "capital allocation." They're allocating attention, deciding what can and can't be seen, in just the same way that a investor decides what will and won't be funded. If an investor doesn't fund promising projects, then some other investor will come along, fund them, get rich, and poach the funds that were once given to less-successful rivals. In the same way, if Google allocates attention badly, then someone will start a better search engine that's better at allocating attention, and we will switch to that new search engine, and Google will fail.
Again, this sounds reasonable, but a little scrutiny reveals it to be circular reasoning. Google has dominated search for a quarter of a century now. It has a 90% market share. According to the theory of self-correcting markets, this means that Google is very good at allocating our attention. What's more, if it feels like Google actually sucks at this – like Google's search-results are garbage – that doesn't mean Google it bad at search. It doesn't mean that Google is sacrificing quality to improve its bottom line (say, by scaling back on anti-spam spending, or by increasing the load of ads on a search results page).
It just means that doing better than Google is impossible. You can tell it's impossible, because it hasn't happened.
QED.
Google wasn't the first search engine, and it would be weird if it were the last. The internet and the world have changed a lot and the special skills, organizational structures and leadership that Google assembled to address the internet of the 2000s and the 2010s is unlikely to be the absolute perfect mix for the 2020s. And history teaches us that the kinds of people who can assemble thee skills, structures and leaders to succeed in one era are unlikely to be able to change over to the ideal mix for the next era.
Interpreting the persistent fact of Google's 90% market-share despite its plummeting quality as evidence of Google's excellence requires an incredible act of mental gymnastics. Rather than accepting the proposition that Google both dominates and sucks because it is excellent, we should at least consider the possibility that Google dominates while sucking because it cheats. And hey, wouldn't you know it, three federal courts have found Google to be a monopolist in three different ways in just a year.
Now, the market trufans will tell you that these judges who called Google a cheater are just futzers who can't keep their fingers off the beautiful, flawless market computer. By dragging Google into court, forcing its executives to answer impertinent questions, and publishing their emails, the court system is "distorting the market." Google is the best, because it is the biggest, and once it stops being the best, it will be toppled.
This makes perfect sense to people who buy the underlying logic of market-as-computer. For the rest of us, it strains credulity.
Now, think for a minute of the people who got rich off of Google. You have the founders – like Sergey Brin, who arrived in America as a penniless refugee and is now one of the richest people in the history of the human species. He got his fortune by building something that billions of us used trillions of times (maybe even quadrillions of times) – the greatest search engine the world had ever seen.
Brin isn't the only person who got rich off Google, of course. There are plenty of Googlers who performed different kinds of labor – coding, sure, but also accountancy, HR, graphic design, even catering in the company's famous cafeterias – who became "post-economic" (a euphemism for "so rich they don't ever need to think about money ever again") thanks to their role in Google's success.
There's a pretty good argument to be made that these people "earned" their money, in the sense that they did a job and that job generated some money and they took it home. We can argue about whether the share of the profits that went to different people was fair, or whether the people whose spending generated that profit got a good deal, or whether the product itself was good or ethical. But what is inarguable is that this was money that people got for doing something.
Then there's Google's investors. They made a lot of money, especially the early investors. Again, we can argue about whether investors should be rewarded for speculation, but there's no question that the investors in Google took a risk and got something back. They could have lost it all. In some meaningful sense, they made a good choice and were rewarded for it.
But now let's think about the next generation. The odds that these billionaires, centimillionaires and decimillionaires will spawn the next generation of 1%ers, 0.1%ers, and 0.0001%ers are very high. Right now, in America, the biggest predictor of being rich is having rich parents. Every billionaire on the Forbes under-30 list inherited their wealth:
https://ca.finance.yahoo.com/news/forbes-billionaires-under-30-inherited-203930435.html
The wealthy have created a system of dynastic wealth that puts the aristocratic method of primogenitor in the shade. Every scion of every one-percenter can have their own fortune and start their own dynasty, without lifting a finger. Their sole job is to sign the paperwork put before them by "wealth managers":
https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/19/dynastic-wealth/#caste
Yes, it's true that some of the very richest people on Earth got their money by investing, rather than inheriting it. Bill Gates's investment income growth exceeds even the growth of the world's richest woman, L'Oreal heiress Liliane Bettencourt, who never did anything of note apart from emerging from an extremely lucky orifice and then simply accruing:
https://memex.craphound.com/2014/06/24/thomas-pikettys-capital-in-the-21st-century/
But Bill Gates's wealth accumulation from investing exceeds the wealth he accumulated by founding and running the most successful company in history (at the time). Doing work never pays as much as allocating capital. And Gates's children? They can assume a Bettencourtian posture on a divan, mouths yawning wide for the passage of peeled grapes, and their fortunes will grow still larger. Same goes for their children, and their children's children.
Capitalism's self-mythologizing insists that the invisible hand owes no allegiance to yesterday's champions. The mere fact that the market rewarded you for allocating capital wisely during your tenure does not entitle your offspring to continue to allocate wealth in the years and centuries to come – not unless they, too, are capital allocators of such supremacy that they are superior to everyone born hereafter and will make the decisions that make the whole world better off.
Because that's the justification for inequality: that the market relentlessly seeks out the people with the skill and foresight to do things and invest in things that improve the world for all of us. If we interrupt that market process with regulations, taxes, or other "distorting" factors, then the market's quest for the right person for the right job will be thwarted and all of us will end up poorer. If we want the benefits of the invisible hand, we must not jostle the invisible elbow!
That's the justification for abolishing welfare, public education, public health, affirmative action, DEI, and any other programs that redistribute wealth to the least among us. If we get in the way of the market's selection process, we'll elevate incompetents to roles of power and importance and they will bungle those roles in ways that hurt us all. As Boris Johnson put it: "the harder you shake the pack the easier it will be for [big] cornflakes to get to the top":
https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2013/nov/28/boris-johnson-iq-intelligence-gordon-gekko
Which leaves the servants and defenders of the invisible hand with a rather awkward question: how is it that today, capital allocation is a hereditary role? We used to have the idea that fitness to allocate capital – that is, to govern the economy and the lives of all of the rest of us – was a situational matter. The rule was "shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations": "The first generation makes it, the second generation spends it, and the third generation blows it."
That's the lesson of the rags to riches story*: that out there, amongst the teeming grubby billions, lurks untold genius, waiting to be anointed by the market and turned loose to make us all better off.
In America, these stories are sometimes called "Horatio Alger" stories, after the writer who penned endless millionaire-pleasing fables about urchins who were adopted by wealthy older men who saw their promise and raised them to be captains of industry. However, in real life, Horatio Alger was a pedophile who adopted young boys and raped them:
https://newenglandhistoricalsociety.com/horatio-alger-hundred-year-old-secret/
Perhaps your life was saved by a surgeon who came from humble origins but made it through med school courtesy of Pell Grants. Perhaps you thrilled to a novel or a film made by an artist from a working class family who got their break through an NEA grant. Maybe the software you rely on every day, or the game that fills your evenings, was created by someone who learned their coding skills at a public library or publicly funded after-school program.
The presence among us of people who achieved social mobility and made our lives better is evidence that people are being born every moment with something to contribute that is markedly different, and higher in social status, than the role their parents played. Even if you stipulate that the person who cleans your toilet has been correctly sorted into a toilet-cleaning job by the invisible hand, it's clear that the invisible hand would prefer that at least some of those toilet-cleaners' kids should do something else for a living.
And yet, wealth remains stubbornly hereditary. Our capital allocators – who, during the post-war, post-New Deal era were often drawn from working families – are now increasingly, relentlessly born to that role.
For the wealthy, this is the origin of the meritocracy to eugenics pipeline. If power and privilege are inherited – and they are, ever moreso every day – then either we live in an extremely unfair society in which the privileged and the powerful have rigged the game…or the invisible hand has created a subspecies of thoroughbred humans who were literally born to rule.
This is the thesis of the ultra-rich, the moral justification for rigging the system so that their failsons and faildaughters will give rise to faildestinies of failgrandkids and failgreat-grandkids, whose emergence from history's luckiest orifices guarantees them a lifelong tenure ordering other people around. It's the justification for some people being born to own the places where the rest of us live, and the rest of us paying them half our salaries just so we don't end up sleeping on the sidewalk.
"Hereditary meritocracy" is just a polite way of saying "eugenics." It starts from the premise of the infallible invisible hand and then attributes all inequality in society to the hand's perfect judgment, its genetic insight in picking the best people for the best jobs. If people of one race are consistently on top of the pile, that's the market telling you something about their genomes. If men consistently fare better in the economy than women, the invisible hand is trying to say something about the Y chromosome for anyone with ears to hear.
Capitalism's winners have always needed "a superior moral justification for selfishness," a discreet varnish to shine up the old divine right of kings. Think of the millionaire who created a "Nobel Prize sperm-bank" (and then fraudulently fathered hundreds of children because he couldn't find any Nobelists willing to make a deposit):
https://memex.craphound.com/2006/09/07/nobel-prize-sperm-bank-human-tragicomedy-about-eugenics/
Or the billionaire founder of Telegram who has fathered over 100 children in a bid to pass on his "superior genes":
https://www.cnn.com/2024/08/26/tech/pavel-durov-telegram-profile-intl
Think of Trump and his endless boasting about his "good blood" and praise for the "bloodlines" of Henry Ford and other vicious antisemites:
https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2020/05/22/trump-criticized-praising-bloodlines-henry-ford-anti-semite/5242361002/
Or Elon Musk, building a compound where he hopes to LARP as Immortan Joe, with a harem of women who have borne his legion of children, who will carry on his genetic legacy:
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/10/29/business/elon-musk-children-compound.html
Inequality is a hell of a drug. There's plenty of evidence that becoming a billionaire rots your brain, and being born into a dynastic fortune is a thoroughly miserable experience:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/13/public-interest-pharma/#affluenza
The stories that rich people tell themselves about why this is the only way things can be ("There is no alternative" -M. Thatcher) always end up being stories about superior blood. Eugenics and inequality are inseparable companions.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/20/big-cornflakes-energy/#caliper-pilled
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genderkoolaid · 8 months ago
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The report titled Unseen Battle claimed that “within the worldwide rights movement of the transgender community, it is seen that the visibility and the representation of transgender male community is comparatively lower to the transgender female community. Sri Lanka is not immune to this phenomenon. It is seen that the transgender male community shows reluctance in identifying themselves as ‘transgender male’. This also reflects on their participation in the common platforms created for the LGBTIQ+ community in Sri Lanka. This has immensely contributed in creating a void of the transgender male community within the LGBTIQ+ movement in Sri Lanka.” Instead of taking this claim for granted, it is worth critically looking at it to demystify several widely held beliefs concerning transgender men and their involvement with the transgender movement. When this assertion is being considered at face value, it seems accurate to conclude that transgender men experience a lack of visibility and their representation may be less common in comparison to that of transgender women. But the report overlooks the fact that meaningful involvement is not synonymous with omnipresent visibility or representation. Taking into account the Sri Lankan context, transgender males have contributed significantly to the LGBTIQ+ rights movement and that contribution is something that should not be trivialised. Transgender men have given their blood, sweat and tears to build the transgender rights movement in this country. This can be substantiated by both forgotten and unforgotten individuals who were involved in initiating the transgender movement. For example, the organising of transgender individuals goes back to 2002/3 and it was transgender men who first formed an informal group in Kandy, which eventually evolved into some of the current transgender rights organisations that we find today. This group of transgender men took the first step to negotiate with the country’s state medical establishment to set up transgender clinics at a time when the mere term transgender was simply alien and unheard of. One of this network’s most prominent founding members was Thenu Ranketh; along with S. Silva and a few others, they went on to establish the first ever transgender rights organisation in the country, Venasa Transgender Network. These transgender male activists also played an instrumental role in bringing the Gender Recognition Certificate into effect in 2016. It is a pity that many research reports written on the transgender community that claim to be giving a voice to an underrepresented community deliberately turn a blind eye to the history that is worth bringing to the fore.
It is evident in this kind of report that the history of the transgender rights movement and the contribution of transgender men to it has not been sufficiently documented but rather has been erased. Unfortunately, it shows that the narratives of the transgender rights movement and the contribution of transgender males to it have largely been erased and distorted at the hands of those at Colombo-based NGOs that work for LGBTIQ+ rights. They continue to hold the power to control the narratives of the transgender community. The Unseen Battle report forgets to explain why, despite the transgender male community forming autonomous groups as early as 2002/3 – long before some other groups started organising – its visibility and representation remain relatively low unlike some other groups within the LGBTIQ+ community. Therefore how fair is it to say that the transgender male community shows reluctance to identify themselves as transgender male without referring to circumstances that make their visibility and representation marginalised in the context of LGBTIQ+ rights activism? The situation analysis did not probe into what might have been the causes of marginalisation faced by transgender men or circumstances that keep them on the periphery. In talking about the low representation and marginalisation faced by transgender men, one cannot and should not ignore the factors that caused that marginalisation in the first place.
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eggueggueo · 4 months ago
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Shadowvanilla in Dungeons & Dragons...
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Que me yapping under the notes
I would like to say, uve created a special kind of brainrot in my mind with this ask
Ive wanted to write a whole fic off this now with how much it inspired me gjcjch
For now though, have this! Im still drawing the outfit designs for them (smilks is done but pv is taking foreeeever) but i really wanted to do something silly in the meantime hehe
I thought for days how to approach this idea since the ask was pretty vauge and open to a lot of interpretation (/not complaining!!) And pulled inspiration from bg3 since thats one form of dnd im familiar with. Then i thought about the owlbears in the game and that itd be silly to draw something related to it (even though idk how to draw animals at all ☠️)
Now onto info for this au!!
For the setting, initially it takes place in ep7/8 ish (since atp 8 hasnt come out but its gonna be hella canon divergent anyways so shrugs) where pv and smilks have their final confrontation. Pv wins, but takes pity on smilks and spares him. Smilks in a fit of desperation and delirium, tries one more trick to beat pv, but it backfires terribly and both their magic (since they pull from the same soulgem) does some weird wombo combo effect reaction which alters time and space and! Poof they both get pulled into the rift/distortion
When they wake, all that they experienced (in their canon world) is like a strange dream. I wont say more since id like to elaborate and explore the idea more
And erm,,,it might change a bit since the ideas are still being worked on
But!!
Pure vanillas class is a cleric (shocker) and shadow milks class is a sorcerer
Its a running gag in my head that everytime shadow milk tells someone hes a sorcerer, they look him up and down and say, "your....a sorcerer?? You dont dress the part"
To which he will roll his eyes in annoyance and tell them, "their clothing is too boring to wear!"
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sidemari · 6 months ago
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• No other choice •
A Dead by Daylight NSFW One-Shot.
Character included: Danny Johnson (Ghostface) x Fem!Reader
TW: Coercion, fingering (female receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, dirtytalk, swearing, stalking behavior, unhealthy relationship, reader's distorted feelings, death mentions, violence.
Mari's notes: This is a dark content post. Do not read it if you're uncomfortable with those kinds of works. Only 18+ people can interact.
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You were so close.
The five generators already built, the exit gate almost completely open.
That was when the game really started.
He decided he was tired of being merciful to his stupid prey.
In a few minutes, the other three survivors had their lives taken, right in front of you, in an obscene and twisted way enough to make you nauseous.
You ran as fast as you could, searching for the hatch somewhere on the map, trying desperately to save your life.
After what seemed like decades, you finally found the hatch, along with a Ghostface already surrounding it.
He had closed the hatch before you could reach it.
The exit gates were not an option, he would easily catch up with you.
All that was left for you was to try to find some key left in a chest by the Entity.
You ran away again, trying to come up with a plan in your mind.
"I'm fucked." You whispered to yourself as you ran. Your legs were exhausted from the excessive effort, your speed decreasing steadily as the trial went on.
Reaching the main building on the map, you looked back for the first time since your sprint. He was on your heels.
"Damn you." you said harshly, preparing to run through a series of windows, thinking that this would give you some advantage in your escape.
"It's useless." He laughed. "You're just postponing your destiny." He followed you through the interior of the building, hunting you like prey, his determination to catch you stronger than ever. "Hey, bunny... You played well, but not well enough to escape."
"Son of a bitch." You cursed, losing speed as you jumped window by window.
"Ouch, that hurt." He pretended to be hurt by your words. "Oh, bunny... When I catch up with you..." He sighed, imagining everything he could do to you.
It was the last window.
And you were exhausted.
"Shit!" Your vision blurred and dizziness took over you. Stepping wrong, you twisted your foot in an extremely painful way, causing a scream of discomfort.
The shock paralyzed you for a few seconds and those seconds were enough for him to reach you.
Your eyes widened and you limped towards the window, but it was in vain. The pain was excruciating and you wouldn't be able to jump to the floor below as easily as you wanted.
"Gotcha!"
Ah, the fear.
The most primal instinct for survival.
The despair and hopelessness.
He could feel these feelings exuding from your exhausted body.
His hands gripped your waist tightly, stopping your ridiculous idea of ​​jumping through the last window towards the floor below as your last available resort.
"I told you it was useless." He grunted, pulling your body closer. "Look at you... You only hurt yourself." His head tilted to the side in false concern. "You're the last survivor of the trial, you should cooperate with me if you want to get out of here alive."
"Please..." You whimpered. "Let me go! You've already killed all three of them..."
"And you think you're more deserving of staying alive than they were, love?" You cringed at the pet name.
"No... It's just..." Tears formed in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. "We were so close..."
You wiped your tears away furiously, cursing yourself internally for showing weakness in front of a killer.
"Oh, bunny, I don't want to see you cry." He squeezed your waist with his hands as a vile way of reassuring you. "Not because you were unlucky, at least."
You accepted that there was no way out. Would he use his Memento Mori on you? Or would he let you bleed on the hook until the Entity took your soul?
Your gaze was lost.
Completely empty, lifeless.
The adrenaline already absent made you wish it would end as soon as possible.
"Kill me already." You whispered. "Please." Your tone of voice made his heart flutter in pleasure.
"No, bunny, you misunderstood. If you cooperate with me, I'll let you go. All you have to do is tell me whether or not you accept this proposal."
"What do you want from me?"
"I don't want something from you, I want you. All of you." He whispered against your ear, pulling your body impossibly close to his so you could feel his erection poking at your back.
Your eyebrows furrowed in disgust.
"No... I... I've never done that." You mumbled, shaking your head no.
"You'd rather bleed to death, I see." The sharp blade of his knife scraped against the skin of your neck, causing a small cut yet deep enough to bleed. "What a shame. You were a fun survivor to chase." He was about to plunge the blade into your neck when you whimpered an extremely pathetic "Wait."
"Hmm?" He chuckled. "What's wrong, bunny? Changed your mind?"
You examined his mask before whispering that you were willing to cooperate with him.
"Good choice, bunny. You're smarter than you look." He pulled you into one of the rooms in the building, causing you to hiss in discomfort due to your foot.
It was a bedroom.
Ruined, but it was a bedroom.
A working generator caused a constant noise in the ambience.
You looked at it sadly.
All that effort... And for what?
"Take off your clothes." He ordered, swinging the knife in his hand.
You stood still, not having the courage to start undressing.
"Did you fucking hear me?" He growled, venom dripping from his words.
Your trembling hands went towards the buttons of your shirt, unbuttoning them one by one with difficulty. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, so with the last button undone, the shirt slid to the floor, exposing your breasts to him.
Underneath the mask, his pupils dilated with lust. He was so ready to fuck you right there, but he waited patiently for you to undo your pants and boots.
"Your panties come off too." He murmured with pleasure when you hesitated, stepping closer.
You removed the last piece of clothing, a sinister shiver running down your spine.
"What are you going to do to me?" You asked him, anxiety written all over your voice.
His hands pulled your body against his, making your breasts press against his torso and you whimpered at the sensation.
"Oh, my little bunny..." He breathed against your ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard... I'm going to fuck you until you lose all your remaining strength." You shivered in anticipation.
"Lay down." He gestured to the king-sized bed behind you and you obeyed him without resistance.
He removed the glove from his dominant hand, using his thumb to tease your clit before his middle and ring fingers collected the essence dripping from your sex.
"Fuck, you're so wet." He sneered. "You were fighting for your life just now and you're this wet? What a slut"
"Ghostface..." You whispered.
"Danny. Call me Danny"
"Danny..."
He removed his characteristic mask, revealing an extremely handsome face underneath it. You became absorbed in him, your gaze getting lost in his dark brown eyes. How could such a handsome man be so vile?
His fingers penetrated you, stretching you and preparing you to receive him soon. You could barely stand him masturbating you with both fingers, the burning sensation was present and very real.
"It hurts..." You whimpered, trying to close your legs only to have them forcefully opened.
"You're so tight, bunny... Fuck, I wonder how you'll be able to handle me fucking you good" His movements became faster and your thoughts more confused.
"Danny..." You whispered, catching the man's attention.
"Yes, my love?" Again, that pet name.
"Fuck me already"
How those two little words had unleashed something dark inside him.
You, a naively pure survivor, asking a guy like him to fuck you?
"Hmm, I don't think I heard you right." He pulled his fingers from your sex, licking them to taste you. "Fuck, you taste so good." He practically whimpered, before pulling you into a kiss, allowing you to taste a trace of your own essence on his tongue. He then sucked your tongue with his lips before moving his kiss down to your neck.
"Even after a trial, you still smell so good..." His tongue abused the sensitive spot below your ear, marking the skin with a painful hickey. "Repeat what you said moments ago, bunny." He kissed your breasts before sucking them urgently.
"I asked you to fuck me." You whispered, your hands caressing his dark hair as he busied himself with your breasts. "I want to feel you inside me, marking me as yours, making others know that I belong to you."
"Fuck, bunny... I didn't know you were that dirty." He laughed. "Asking to be fucked by a serial killer? That's sexy as hell. But if this is just manipulation, ah... I'll make you bitterly regret deceiving me." He threatened, his hand now squeezing your neck strong enough to make you loose your breath for some seconds.
It wasn't manipulation.
You just had no other choice.
Either you got into his twisted ideas and tried to take advantage of that bizarre and disgusting situation so you could save your life or you would just wait for it all to end miserably.
His teeth bit your nipple gently, making your body shudder beneath him and moans of pleasure leave your mouth.
"Ready?" He asked, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. You hummed, watching him remove his tunic, his cock freeing itself from the prison of fabrics. You nodded, allowing him to crawl between your legs, his cock lining up with the entrance of your vagina.
He penetrated you in one go, reaching as deep inside you as he could.
You whimpered, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively and your nails digging into the skin of his back, scratching him so deliciously that he almost came on the spot.
A few tears of discomfort wet your cheeks, but he wiped them away carefully, reassuring you.
"Hey, it's okay... You did it." Your eyebrows furrowed in pain and your breathing was labored.
"Danny..." You were feeling so sensory overloaded that it hurt. "It hurts so much..."
"Shh... I know, my bunny, I know." He kissed your lips gently. "Still, I'm going to start moving." And with that, the thrusts began. During the very first moments they were slow, but then they became violent.
You wished he would be more gentle since it was your first time, but you could barely say anything other than his name, much less formulate a sentence about how all of this was too much for you to handle.
"Fuck, squeeze me with your pussy, go on." He grunted between the thrusts, your cunt involuntarily contracting around him hard enough to make him see heaven. "That's it, just like that... You're so good for me, bunny." He groaned, his thumb stimulating your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make you melt beneath him.
"Danny!" You moaned as he stimulated that exact sensitive spot inside you in the most delicious way yet. "Fuck, that feels so good..."
"Oh really? My bunny likes to be fucked by her owner?" His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks. "Tell me, bunny, you've always wanted someone to fuck you as good as I do, haven't you?" He teased you, a cruelly malicious smile plastered on his face.
"Yes, it's t-true." You whimpered, your orgasm so close it hurt. "Faster." You begged, your nails leaving marks on his broad back. He obeyed your request, the pace of his thrusts getting viciously faster, fast enough to bring you both absurdly close to your climax.
"You're so fucking hot" He sighed, his hips moving erratically. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."
"Me too..." You cried back.
"Cum with me, bunny. Cum good around my cock like the good little slut you are." Your vision blurred as the first wave of pleasure hit you. After that, many more came, your walls contracting around his cock in a wonderful way.
You felt something warm invade your insides without warning, earning a sigh from your lips. Your hands held his face gently, your eyes meeting his.
He smiled at you before pulling you into a tender kiss, unlike the previous ones that were full of need and lust. He ended the kiss with a few pecks, his hand tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"You were so good, my bunny." He pulled out of you, making you mewl at his absence. He closed your legs gently, not wanting a single drop of his cum to go to waste. "I should have proposed this silly game sooner, shouldn't I? I've had my eye on you for quite some time now."
"Danny..." You murmured, your hand caressing his cheek, soon combing his brown hair with your fingers in devotion.
Why were you feeling so complete?
This guy is a serial killer and yet you had never felt so safe and so... Desired?
"Here, a morning-after pill." He offered you the medicine that was inside the pocket of his tunic. "You're in your fertile period, as far as I remember. We can't risk having a child now, can we?"
"H-How do you know?"
"I know a lot about you, bunny. Unimaginable things."
You shivered.
Why did his obsession in you feel terrifying yet so oddly interesting?
"Get dressed, I'll guide you to the hatch. There was a key in a chest that a survivor left open on the map." He rummaged through the same pocket he had gotten the medicine. "Think fast!" He said before throwing the key in your direction, which you caught easily, looking at it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
"Really?" You asked uncertainly. "I thought you were going to get rid of me right after we had sex."
"I made a deal with you, remember? I said that if you cooperated, you would get out of here alive. And besides, I'm not going to get rid of you so soon, not after I marked you as mine."
You got dressed at the same time as his words repeatead in your mind. The mask was back on, but he didn't look as scary as before.
"Come on, the hatch is to the south. Lean on me so you don't put too much strain on your twisted foot."
How thoughtful.
Once there, you used the key to open your way out of that trial.
"Thanks, Danny." You whispered.
"Always, bunny." He squeezed your hand one last time. "See you next time."
551 notes · View notes
99thpercentile · 1 year ago
Text
places where the audio distorts
image ids under the cut
tmagp 4:
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the audio distorts when people lie.
I imagine this knowledge will come in handy later.
[id: ALICE: This is not something you go poking around in. Not if you want to keep your job… or your neck. SAM: (a little amused) Okay, okay! I get it. Consider me scared straight. "Consider me scared straight" is highlighted. end id]
[id: LENA: Now, while I understand your concerns, you need to understand that Colin has held the IT Manager position for some time without incident, and although he is somewhat… frustrated with his current assignment, he can request help from the central IT team at any time. I am certain that should he find his responsibilities unmanageable, he will request assistance. Or resign, of course. Either way, the problem will resolve itself. "Or resign, of course" is highlighted. end id]
[id: CELIA: Is there any way to look up specific files? ALICE: Like what? CELIA: Oh, I don’t know. Every case about… being buried alive, or meat, or… whatever. ALICE: Well, there’s a search bar, but it doesn’t actually do anything. You’d have to dig through them all manually. (suspicious) – Why do you ask? CELIA: Just figuring it all out. Ah well, I guess I’ll need to find Bigfoot on my own time. "Just figuring it all out" is highlighted. end id]
[id: GERTRUDE: I see. Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t think Gerry can help you – GERRY: (casually) Yeah, I barely remember any of it. "I don’t think Gerry can help you" is highlighted. end id]
[id: GERRY: Oh yeah, but I was pretty young. I remember filling in a bunch of forms and questionnaires, then some old men asking me questions about what books I liked to read, who did I look up to, that kind of thing. And then I left. SAM: (disappointed) That’s all? GERRY: Yeah, afraid so. Other than just sitting around with a bunch of other kids in a room that smelled like old books. "Yeah, afraid so" is highlighted. end id]
[id: CELIA: I’m trying to look into… Weird physics stuff: time travel, other dimensions, teleportation, all that good stuff. Freddy doesn’t really do searches, so you could keep an eye out and let me know if any come up in your cases? SAM: Uh, sounds a bit sci-fi compared to our usuals. What’s this for? (amused breath) You’re not doing research for that podcast you were on, are you? CELIA: (surprised) You know about that? SAM: I might have given you a quick Google. CELIA: Then… yeah. I’m doing a favor for Georgie. "yeah. I’m doing a favor for Georgie" is highlighted. end id]
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porcelainbirdss · 3 months ago
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you are all i need
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summary: you were the only person who knew the crown prince of Kremnos from this side — his careworn gaze locking onto your sick form, silently begging for you to get better. Mydei always said he doesn’t need mercy from the gods, yet now his hands were interlocked in a desperate prayer, searching for any kind of help.
cw: gen. neutral reader, hurt/comfort, angst, health issues, unconfessed feelings, Mydei is absolutely whipped for reader. || wc: 4k
your body stirred into consciousness, but you didn’t open your eyes yet. there it was again — that awful ache, seeping through all of your muscles, making you wince whenever you moved. the room was unbelievably suffocating, and you felt the unpleasant way sweat clung to your skin, forcing you to push the covers away. short relief washed over your senses before shivers began to shake your bones — you grimaced, frustrated by your body’s indecisiveness. needless to say, you were absolutely sick.
it began as innocent coughs and sneezes, making you think it would eventually pass — after all, those symptoms rarely evolved into anything serious. Mydei chastised you for dismissing it, and kept insisting you take a few days off to rest. with how things stood now, it wasn’t difficult to guess whether you decided to listen. you regretted not doing so, because as it turns out, the illness turned into something way worse than common cold. you’ve been bedridden for the past eleven days, and the remedies hardly worked on you.
a sudden dryness squeezed at your lungs, making you break out into a fit of coughs. you cracked one of your eyelids open, and your heart almost jumped out from the sight of your friend leaning over you with a concerned expression, his face barely illuminated by the weak oil lamp.
"Mydei?" you forced out through your coughs, trying to sit upright. "what— cough — what are you doing here? it’s way too late, you should be sleeping!"
his hands immediately found their ways onto your arms, pushing you back into the pillows. you didn’t even have the strength to protest. "your temperature got higher, so i decided to stay for a little longer." he explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, pouring you some fresh water. you observed the man’s face for a while, taking note of his disheveled hair and dark circles, hanging lowly under the golden eyes. he was worn, and you felt guilty.
your gaze flickered over to the bedside table, stopping on the empty bowl. Mydei brought you soup around the evening hours, if you weren’t mistaken. when you’re sick, the flow of time starts to distort, and as you’re snapping in-and-out of consciousness the clock hands begin to jump around its face. it’s day — you closed your eyes for two seconds, and now it’s nighttime.
"listen, i appreciate how worried you are about me, but-" you paused, clearing your throat, "you don’t have to be there all the time, you know. i’m sure you have better things to do than looking after me." a chuckle escaped your lips, though it quickly died down when Mydei’s brows narrowed together.
"i can do whatever i wish to." he responded, obviously unamused. you blinked twice at his reaction, feeling the sweat start to become unbearable once again. arguing with Mydei was usually no use, as he was stubborn as a donkey, however this time you really felt inclined to have it your way.
"well," you began, pushing yourself up on the pillows to a half-sitting position, "what if you get sick too? who will be taking care of us, hm?"
"i guess we’ll both die then." he deadpanned, cocking one eyebrow up at you, expression still unimpressed. since Mydei was immortal, he definitely cared less about his well-being, and no matter how hard you tried to change that awful mindset of his, you still couldn’t.
"you’re really something…" a disheartened mutter left your lips as your eyes trailed after his hand, now pressing to your forehead. you felt weak, the late hour of the day filling your muscles with more pain than usually. the man retracted his palm with an unsatisfied frown, making your stomach squeeze with a bit of anxiety.
even though you joked about the situation, there were moments when intrusive thoughts took over your fatigued mind, and you wondered — is this how you pass? it was unlikely, alas you couldn’t help but feel slightly paranoid. eleven days of fevers, sometimes so high they changed into delirium. they kept tormenting your body, and no matter how much medicine you stuffed yourself with, it seemed to be only a temporary solution. at the start, no one aside from Mydei took it seriously. Phainon kept teasing you about your weak immune system, saying how poor and fragile you were. six days later he stood at your bed’s side, holding a big bouquet along with a letter of good wishes from everyone. back then you laughed at his careworn expression, though now you see it definitely wasn’t baseless.
as for your other friend — he kept visiting you regularly, although as of late it turned into something bordering on obsession. constantly checking your temperature, coming up with new remedies, calling up every single doctor in the area, then practically dragging them by collar into your room. none worked, and it seemed to only push him further up the wall. you didn’t know why he was acting like this. whenever you inquired about his odd behavior, he’d always mutter something about being "responsible" or whatever nonsense he managed to conjure up at that moment. to be completely honest, you personally saw no point to his actions. how was exposing oneself to a potentially dangerous virus sensible?
on the other hand, it’s not like you minded the attention he was gracing you with. it felt nice in a way, when you kept on coughing and whining from pain, and he’d always be by your side, that solicitous look painted across his face. he’d bring you food, sometimes starting to read out loud to occupy your mind. as you were close to drifting away, he would press his palms to your neck and cheeks, checking whether you were burning up. day after day, never losing focus of his goal — bringing you back to health.
right now as you were scanning his downcast expression, you began to wonder if such behavior was normal. you remember that one time when Mydei got sick — him and Phainon were both being irresponsible, which led to them getting food poisoning. you were worried, sure, you even went as far as to changing his compresses and running a few errands for him, but never to this extent. is that how a friend should act?
did he even perceive you as a friend? were all of those touches merely a gesture of platonic affection? all these stolen glances, and words, and—
your mind started to spin for a short while, and you fell back onto the bed with a huff. no matter how hard you wished to repress those feelings, they’d always find a way to resurface. it’s not like you were infatuated with him, but whenever your eyes locked, a sudden surge of something foreign would run through your spine, making you wonder where the line between everything started to blur.
"i’ll bring you some painkillers. the ones you took earlier probably stopped working by now." the man announced in a quiet voice, but before he could get up from the chair you grabbed his wrist, securing him into place. the sudden action made your muscles ache once again, evoking a wince.
"wait, Mydei— wait." for what? "i— just don’t go. you don’t have to bring me anything." you explained, your words slightly slurring.
he sent you a wary glance. "why not?"
because you’re obviously just as tired as me, you fool, and i don’t want to use you as my personal nurse!
"well, uhh…" a nervous snicker escaped you as you mulled over your options, “i’m obviously starting to feel better, so i don’t think i need any painkillers. stay for me, please?" you lied quickly, hoping it sounded believable enough.
that made Mydei sigh heavily, his shoulders hunching with resignation. you sent him a smile of approval, fighting through the pressure building up in your sinuses that slowly made your head pound with pain. you’ll grab the medicine by yourself later.
"sometimes i feel like you care more about my well-being than your own." he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. you couldn’t exactly deny the statement — you’ve known Mydei for a while now, and grown rather fond of him (perhaps too fond for your own liking).
"why, is that a bad thing?" you asked, pulling the sheets down. you felt overly hot, even though the room itself probably wasn’t humid. "i don’t mind if you’re immortal. you’re not separate from every other thing, and you deserve the same care."
the man’s lips opened as if he wanted to say something, but no sound left his mouth.
if he were to be honest, you had this weird effect on him — whenever you said something kind, his heart immediately clenched. more often than not he felt like a lovestruck fool, even though it made no sense to him. it’s not like he lacked in attention to desperately cling onto every syllable of your words — yet here he was, constantly by your side, taking in your restless form fatigued by fever as his hands clasped together in prayer, hidden from your sight. the curse of undying made it even more tangible how fragile human lives were.
Mydei couldn’t remember where or when it all began. perhaps when the summer sun shone onto your head so brightly it started to resemble a halo, your beckoning voice calling out to him. you wanted to show him the butterfly sitting atop your hand — he said it looked beautiful, even though his gaze was glued to your beaming eyes the whole time. you giggled as the insect fluttered away, murmuring how you wished it would stay forever. Mydei nodded along, thinking your words were more relatable than ever.
then again, maybe it was when that thick-skulled, ignorant lion started to spread rumors about him, and you would stand in front of its brass head, arguing and defending Mydei’s name for three full hours. others eventually got sick of your back-and-forth with the lion, trying to drag you away, yet you stood your ground, threatening to take it out in a fight after your patience ran thin. the man observed the charade from a distance, chuckling under his nose. discussing with the spirit usually lacked in any meaning, but you simply wouldn’t give up. when you succeeded, all sweaty and out of breath, you turned to Mydei with the proudest smirk on your face, bragging how he could always depend on you. he ruffled your hair in response, saying that he would from now on.
it could have been when you both were baking a cake. you were terrible at this, so you asked for Mydei’s assistance, since his cooking-skills are definitely higher than yours. in the middle of the process you ran out of flour, and you decided to go and buy it, even though the sky was overcast with dark clouds. wind blew straight at your faces as you sprinted for the closest vendor, trying to win the race against the upcoming storm. it seemed that day you were out of luck, and soon you were completely soaked, stumbling back into the kitchen with defeated looks. you dumped the flour packet onto the countertop, its wet contents now depraved of any use. Mydei was sure you were going to complain, yet all you did was laugh at his irritated expression, saying how you’d try again tomorrow. you spent the rest of the day conversing about the silliest of things, watching as the trees outside bent under unrelenting rain.
for all he knows, maybe his feelings started to pop and bloom in all colors when you first looked at him, your name slipping so nonchalantly from your lips as you introduced yourself, and he just mistook it for curiosity.
that’s what you were. caring, respectful, with a will seemingly made out of stainless steel. Mydei lived through ten thousands of tragic events, trauma after trauma piling up over his shoulders, keeping him pinned to the ground under its sheer weight. even though his body lacked in any kind of wounds, he felt as if his whole mind was covered in scars. never needing any kind of authority nor condolence from others, he kept the thoughts of comfort tucked away in the furthest corners of his mind. every single ounce of Mydei’s resolve shattered the moment he got a taste of your kindness, warmer and more forgiving than any other. you were the sun, and you were the night, and the ground held you up proudly, and so he simply couldn’t bear the thought of life without you.
for all those years he spent by your side, he never quite came to terms with his own sentiments towards you. taking everything for granted quickly melted into dubious anxieties as he sat by your bedside, counting your breaths, the thermometer in his hand clearly indicating a serious febrile condition. he’d trade hundreds of his deaths just for one life — yours. it was as simple as that.
his dark trail of reveries suddenly got interrupted by your coughing, making him jump up in the chair. "hey, are you okay? you didn’t even—" you paused, reaching for the glass of water, taking a few sips, "you didn’t even answer me. maybe you should really go to sleep, huh?"
"sorry, i just got lost in thought. and i’m not tired. on the other hand, why don’t you go back to sleep?” Mydei retaliated, his gaze flickering over to the clock. it was well after three in the morning, and you definitely should rest some more.
you pretended to consider his words for a second. "hmm, but knowing you, you’ll stay up — doing gods know what — and later i’m just gonna feel bad about leaving you alone.” a weak chuckle escaped your chest as you took in his careworn expression. seriously, he was way too worried for his own good.
the man shook his head, leaning back into the chair, his eyebrows tugged together in defiance. that evoked a sigh from you as you fell back onto the pillows, internally cursing him for being so stubborn.
"Mydei, listen, i’m trying to understand you here - but this time i cannot wrap my head around you." you chided, observing his attitude shift into something softer. perhaps you shouldn’t be scolding him like that, but you couldn’t help yourself. "why do you care so much? i don’t see Phainon, nor anyone else constantly hovering by my bedside."
the man seemed to take a moment of contemplation, the look on his face turning grim once more. for a second, you genuinely thought you offended him, but soon his quiet voice cut through the deep silence between you. "have i ever told you about Hephaestion?"
"i— i’m sorry, but i don’t think so." you replied, a bit surprised to see Mydei starting to open up before you. even though you were pretty close with him, he never attempted to reminisce about his past, so you didn’t ask.
"Hephaestion is—" he began slowly, mulling over his next choice of words, "a late friend of mine. he was my most trusted companion, and still is to this day."
you nodded in understanding, listening with intent to his story. there was a tangible sadness laced through Mydei’s tone, and you gripped the sheets a little tighter, trying to stop the multitude of words that kept pushing themselves onto your tongue. it’s better if you hear him out first before you start jumping to conclusions.
the man took a heavy breath, as if merely speaking about it brought him physical pain. "unfortunately, on the eve of my duel against my father, he got taken by sickness. we were supposed to celebrate together, and yet—" Mydei paused, his hands clenching around nothing, "—and yet, he passed the same day. there was nothing i could do. if only Hephaestion didn’t hide his condition away from me, then i’d surely… surely, i’d…"
he trailed off, as if debating whether he should continue. in his mind, the things he was telling you were not all that interesting, nor did you exactly care — even if you did, truly.
you stared at Mydei with wide eyes, suddenly forgetting about the insistent ache that kept pulling at your muscles. all of your previously prepared condolences rapidly died in your throat, leaving you speechless. the darkness and grief swirling in his golden irises rendered you unmoving, trapped between offering him any sort of comfort and remaining silent. what should you do? Mydei’s confession felt like a slap to your face, keeping you in a limbo, as you never expected him to go through such awful things. there were moments when he would look into the distance with something foreign to you in his gaze, however you never dared to inquire.
"perhaps that’s why i’m so concerned about your well-being.” he mumbled, his line of sight flickering away from your face.
"Mydei, you—“ your brows knitted together as you tried to form a coherent sentence, "i’m so sorry, i never knew…"
he shrugged, trying to gather himself and appear more impassive. "well, now you do."
a bit unsure, you reached out for his hand, linking your fingers with Mydei’s before he managed to suppress all of his vulnerable emotions back. you didn’t want him to hide, shying away from being perceived. it wouldn’t be fair.
a short moment of fright passed through his face as he noticed your action, though he didn’t point it out. "honestly, i don’t know what else you went through, or what awaits you in the future, but i need you to know that i’ll always be there for you. i- i know it’s not much, compared to all the suffering…" you stopped, trying to gather your thoughts, "you have the others too. i’m sure that-"
"alright, alright." Mydei huffed, interrupting your troubled rambling. "i understand what you’re trying to convey." although his voice was still low, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, making your chest just a bit lighter.
no matter how much he appreciated the sentiment, there was still a big problem hanging over the whole situation like an inevitable thunderstorm — you said you’d always stick by his side, but that simply wasn’t true. holding on with all his might to other people usually resulted in vain. he’d live to see all of them pass, fragments of his heart crumbling and chipping off as the time progressed. his friends long gone, leaving a deep, hollow cavity behind — your fate will be the same, eventually.
Mydei doesn’t like thinking about it. what will the future bring to him? more suffering? more pain? his body will remain the same, youthful face and body depraved of any scars, still overflowing with vigor. but what about you? he couldn’t care less about the changes mortal body goes through, although the sight of a face, worn by years and hardships always reminds him of one ultimate truth all humans share — death. what will he do once you’re gone? it’s stupid. it doesn’t make sense. he should cast aside his humanity and stop himself from becoming attached, and yet he couldn’t. what is a life without feelings and a heart? could it still be considered a 'life' instead of a meaningless 'existence'? wouldn’t he become reduced to a husk, which just happens to breathe and think like the others?
the decades will slip through his fingers, and he won’t be able to stop thinking about how cruel it is that now he’s left without you. he’ll be waiting — even though he shouldn’t be. he’d still wake up with things to tell you, and fall asleep thinking about what you two should do tomorrow. he’s going to stand in front of your porch, watching strangers enter and leave the house, wondering where’d you go and when will you be coming back. his memory will always cherish you, asking about you all the time. that’s not how it should be, alas the curse he bears can’t be undone.
anyway, grieving the loss that’s yet to come is… not rational. it won’t bring him any good, nor will it keep you forever. he should focus on the present, perhaps make you a compress or take your temperature—
"…dei. hey!" his gaze snapped towards you, now squeezing his hand a bit harder than necessary. "for gods’ sake, you’re really out of it. for a second there i thought you really fell asleep with your eyes open." your features shifted into something akin to worry as you took in the man’s expression. he only sighed in response, instantly making you guess what he was dwelling on.
"Mydei, if you’re thinking about- well." you paused, afraid of even speaking the words out loud. "i’ll say it just once — i’m not going anywhere." you consoled him with a smile, so bright it was almost blinding. the corners of his lips twitched upwards, as if he wanted to return the gesture, yet couldn’t.
"but-"
"all things aside — cough — what’s the point in worrying?" you mused watching his downcast face, "everyone loves you, and you’ll always be loved, so you don’t need me to be happy."
his jaw slacked open, as if what you said was the most absurd thing in the world. your words pounded like axes into his heart, and he couldn’t quite believe that you were ever able of mustering up such nonsense. Mydei used to pray and beg for your recovery, constantly coming up with new ways, new ideas, remedies, doctors, food — and you dared to suggest anything like this?
he swallowed, feeling the heat of irritation crawl up on his cheeks and neck. "no, that’s not how it works! none can compare to—"
you raised an eyebrow at his sudden lag, feeling like there was more behind his words. Mydei rarely acted so spaced out and anxious. in front of other people he was the prime example of fierceness, never letting his guard down nor behaving as if his mind was reduced to a mush. he must be tired, yes, what else could explain it? however, his words were thought-provoking — 'none can compare to'. to what? your company? your friendship? your amiability? your…
oh gods.
your mind spurred as the rapid realization hit you. you broke out into a fit of coughs, covering your blushed face with your palm, simultaneously letting go of Mydei’s hand. somehow, it all clicked into place, and you wanted to endlessly berate yourself for letting something so obvious keep flying over your head. of course the man’s actions towards you were never normal — you were simply too blind, stubborn on the idea of keeping your relationship purely platonic. it was the safest bet, after all.
right now Mydei’s face was twisted in distress, his eyebrows knitted together, and once again this night you completely didn’t know what to say. a nervous chuckle escaped your lips as the coughing finally died down, and you decided it would be best to let it go for the time being. you still had so much time left — and you were both weary. nothing coherent would born from you trying to vocalize your own feelings. you cleared your throat, mulling over the next choice of words.
"well, uh— i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to offend you." you muttered meekly, keeping your tone coy. "why don’t we just go to sleep? it’s nearing four o’clock. you’ll be groggy in the morning." a small smile graced your lips as you tried to convince yourself it was the best course of action. once you get back on your feet, you’ll confront Mydei, and resolve everything.
the man nodded slowly, although you could sense the slightest of disappointment painted across his features. he’ll understand. he always does.
you settled yourself more comfortably in the sheets, pulling them over your body when the shivers decided to come back. then, you reached out for Mydei’s arm again, tugging him closer. "c’mon, rest your head. don’t tell me you want to sleep upright?" you beckoned, sensing his resistance. his expression was a bit conflicted, yet he ultimately lowered his torso on the bed, hesitantly placing the weight of his head on your thighs. the position was a bit awkward, with him still sitting atop the chair, and you being confined to lying on your back, but none of you seemed to care.
"thanks for taking care of me." you whispered, briefly running your fingers through his blonde locks. "what do you say we go for a small walk tomorrow? i need to stretch out my legs, else i’ll merge into one with the bed." you snickered breathily, the sleepiness already making your eyelids begin to glue together.
Mydei hummed in response, feeling your body shake with laughter. "i don’t see why not."
you probably won’t go anywhere, as your body will continue to be tormented by fevers, but the empty promise was still nice. "alright. goodnight, Mydei."
"goodnight, [name]."
he closed his eyes at last, forcing his tense body to relax. he was tired, yet with his heart hammering so intensely, there was no way he could fall asleep. your body was so warm even through the sheets, and the slip-up he made earlier haunted his exhausted mind. did you realize what he meant? looking at the way you reacted, it was possible.
truth be told, the affection he held for you terrified him sometimes. what if one day he gets fed up with waiting, and decided to confess — would you reject him? would all years of friendship go to waste, simply because he overestimated the feelings you had for him? he knew it would ruin him. and he also knew he would let it. he’d embrace every ounce of what you could give to him, even if in the end it all led to destruction. still, he didn’t know if he could go another day choking on the ever-present words: "i love you."
he felt it in his shoulders, in his chest, in his stomach. yes, you were everywhere, buried deep within every song and bruise. were his mindscape to take form, it would be a boundless forest where every tree’s bark bore your own initials.
he didn’t know how long you’ll stay. it could be the next sixty years — or maybe fate will decide to separate you just the next month, week, day. there was no telling. still, as his head lied atop your lap, he couldn’t bring himself to fully care. at that moment, he was with you, your body peacefully dozing off into slumber. he did love you. and you were awfully perplexing, and kind, and he’d do anything to protect you from the world’s harm. he could die a thousands of deaths if it meant seeing you smile as you called out for him, waving your hand in the distant fields.
he’ll never get enough of you, won’t he?
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brujaluas · 3 months ago
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How you imagine your relationship? How it will actually be?
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Pile 1
how do you imagine the relationship
you imagine your next relationship being something very traditional, calm and serene, the kind you see in romance stories, getting to know each other in a traditional and old-fashioned way, without social media, as if you were walking down the street or at a public event and your eyes met with your loved one and you would never be apart again, a poetic relationship (cute, I'm not kidding you okay)…
how it will really be
(even I'm curious now)
intriguing, I see it being a 180 degree turn, like, you're going to meet someone or to meet someone, you need to abandon this idea of ​​how you imagine your next relationship. I see a cycle ending, maybe it's like "before I liked bad boys and now I want someone with a nerdy style" (just an example), the person you're going to be in a relationship with will change your perception of what you want in a relationship a lot, it's a very different person from what you imagined, as I said, it will change your perception about relationships and your ideal type a lot.
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Pile 2
how do you imagine the relationship
do you imagine your relationship with someone older, a mature person who has lived a good life, hm, worrying, some here, in fact the vast majority, think that a relationship is a type of sacrifice, where you have to give a lot of yourself, and that it is normal for some things in a relationship to hurt, really, I also think that loving is painful, it doesn't matter if it is a healthy or reciprocal relationship, loving someone is being vulnerable and being vulnerable in the world we live in is something really insane, but I don't think it is a sacrifice, sometimes it is, but I feel that many of these people ended up growing up living alongside toxic couples and this ended up causing you a distorted view of a relationship, marriage (we are talking about marriage here), like, loving is painful (at least for me), but it is not normal to give up everything you wanted in life for the sake of a relationship or going to bed crying every day, you don't need to marry an older person, or live a relationship like that, you don't need to be like your parents, or couples.
how it will really be
hm, system failure someone messed up here, haha ​​just joking and trying to relax you!
But look, I don't see a relationship with another person in a future for you, I see you very lost in your own mind, in your own illusions, in your own imaginations, and you will have a relationship, but it will be with yourself, you will work a lot with your feminine energy, you will take care of it, and be lucky in that, there is a song that I really like that goes like this "neither for you, nor for anyone, I will NOT give up my plans, I want to know much more than my 20 years", this song resonates so much with you! There is no problem at all in being a single person, don't outsource yourself! (some of you here came from restrictive families)
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Pile 3
How do you imagine your relationship
Similar to pile 2, if you want to read it, well, imagine your relationship as a form of duty, it is a duty to be in a relationship or marriage, I did this reading without thinking much about marriage, but this energy came through a lot, you imagine your own relationship and relationships themselves as something difficult, laborious, and with difficult conversation, it is as if to have a relationship for you in your perception you need to isolate yourself from everything and everyone and live only for the sake of this relationship, wake up my dear, it is 2025!!!
How will it really be?
Hehehehehehehehehehehehe
That is interesting!
You will meet a person with a very strong masculine energy and will be a very lucky person in life, smart, in fact, they have learned how to be lucky, how to make life give them luck, they will be faithful and companionable people, and your guardians, like bodyguards, you will realize that your vision of relationships could be a little debugged, like, in this relationship that you will have, this person will be an excellent friend and companion, I see a lot of a vibe of best friends more than lovers, but I will not lie, it is as if it were a platonic relationship not platonic, anyway, whatever the dynamics or nature, this person will show you that having a relationship is not the same as you imagine, will show you that it can be very positive to cultivate this…
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teine-mallaichte · 11 months ago
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Let's talk hallucinations in whump/general fiction.
So first off full disclosure, I have schizoaffective disorder - think some bits of bipolar and some bits of schizophrenia kind of squished together, and as such hallucinations are a BIG part of my general existence.
Definition: A hallucination is a perception of a sensory experience—such as sight, sound, smell, taste, or touch—that appears real but is created by the mind and lacks an external stimulus.
Now, I see a fair few "hallucinations" type prompts in whump events, and just generally within the whump community, and I see a LOT of auditory hallucinations type prompt fills - mainly in the form of malevolent whispers - and ye that's a thing, but there are so many other hallucinations.
The thing is hallucinations can effect literally any sense, not just hearing - though I will add that auditory is usually regarded as the most common.
this is a long post so I am going to put a cut here... below the cut is exploration of the tyoes of hallucination, the causes and a bit about insight.
So, I thought it could be "fun" to explore a few in a post. Lets explore the 5 "main" senses first:
Auditory Hallucinations
Description: These are the most common type of hallucinations. They involve hearing sounds that are not present. The sounds are hear as if they are coming from somewhere external to the body. So in my case I have a few of these, but my main one is a voice who is with me even when I am in meds (another good point there for anyone who wants to use mental illness in their fics even in meds we can do have symptoms). This voice has a name and most of the time he just sorts off passes comments about things and people around me, like a sarcastic narrator and it sounds like he is standing just behind me.
Common Examples:
Malevolent Whispers: Insidious voices that might threaten, taunt, or belittle you.
Hearing Music: Melodies or songs playing that no one else can hear. For me this kind of sounds like someone is playing a radio in a different room.
Environmental Sounds: Hearing footsteps, doors creaking, or other sounds suggesting someone else is present.
Command Hallucinations: Voices that instruct or suggest (its not always ademand, sometimes more subtle and manipulative) you to do certain things, often with a compelling and distressing sense of urgency.
Less used examples:
Kind/supportive hallucinations: Voices that are encouraging, reassuring and supportive.
Distortion: Rather than sounds with no origin hallucinations that disort or warp actual sounds/voices changing the meaning, making it as if the TV or Radio is addressing you personally, making it sound as if a friend is threatening you.
Fun fact: it actually is possible to have a two way (sort of) conversation with a hallucination - I know I do it relatively often. It will be different for everyone, but fo me its a bit like having a conversation on a bad phoneline, yes the voice will respond but often its almost as if he hasn't fully heard what I said - or is ignoring key points. I can do this both outloud and "in my head".
Visual Hallucinations
Description: Visual hallucinations involve seeing things that are not present. These can range from simple shapes and flashes of light to detailed images or scenes. They often appear as if they are in the physical world and can be very convincing.
Common Examples:
Shadowy Figures: Seeing indistinct, shadowy forms that may move or appear to watch the character.
Distorted Faces: Perceiving familiar faces as grotesque or altered in frightening ways.
Apparitions: Full-bodied figures that may interact with the character or appear menacing.
Lights/sparkles: The whump community seems to very much enjoy lights and sparkles, especially in drugging.
Less Used Examples:
Intrusive Visuals: Images of disturbing or graphic nature that suddenly appear in your line of sight.
Perceptual Distortions: Objects appearing to warp, change shape, or color in unnatural ways.
Double Vision: Seeing multiples of objects or people, creating a confusing and disorienting experience.
Scenery Shifts: The entire environment changes, making you believe they are in a completely different place.
Fun fact: Sleep deprivation can cause some wild visual hallucinations, even relatively "mild" sleep deprivation can start to effect a persons perceptions.
Gustatory Hallucinations
Description: Gustatory hallucinations involve tasting things that are not actually present in the mouth. These can range from pleasant to extremely unpleasant tastes and can be triggered without any external food or drink.
Officially these are considered "rare", but personally (as someone who has done a lot of peer support work in the psychosis/voice hearing community I think they are simply under reported.)
Common Examples:
Bitter or Metallic Taste: A persistent bitter or metallic taste in the mouth, often leading to a sense of unease or concern about poisoning.
Sweet or Sour Taste: Tasting something sweet or sour unexpectedly, which can be confusing if it doesn’t match the current context.
Less Used Examples:
Spoiled Food: Tasting something rancid or spoiled, causing nausea and distress.
Unfamiliar Tastes: Tasting something completely unfamiliar and hard to describe, adding to the character's sense of disorientation.
Mimicking Actual Foods: Tasting specific foods that trigger cravings or aversions, despite not eating anything.
Transforming food: Food tasting like other food - I know someone for whom everything tasted like strawberries for days.
Common Causes: Neurological conditions or can be a side effect of medications.
Olfactory Hallucinations
Description: Olfactory hallucinations involve smelling odors that are not actually present. These can be pleasant or unpleasant and occur without any corresponding external stimulus. They can be particularly disorienting because they may trigger memories or emotions associated with certain scents - extremely complex if the person also has PTSD.
Common Examples:
Burning Smell: Wood, rubber, or food, which can lead to panic and fear of a fire.
Rotting Flesh: An overpowering smell of decay or rotting flesh, causing distress and nausea.
Perfume or Flowers: Smelling strong scents like flowers or perfume - hallucinations don't have to be inherently unpleasant sensations.
Less Used Examples:
Chemical Smells: Smelling chemicals like bleach or petrol.
Unfamiliar Scents: Smelling odors that you cannot identify.
Food Smells: Smelling specific foods that trigger hunger or nausea, despite the absence of any actual food.
Tactile Hallucinations
Description: Tactile hallucinations involve feeling sensations on or under the skin that are not actually there. These can range from mild tingling to severe pain and can be extremely distressing.
Common Examples:
Crawling Sensation: Feeling as though insects or bugs are crawling on or under the skin - often leading to frantic scratching or picking.
Electric Shocks: Experiencing sudden, sharp, electric-like jolts.
Pressure: Feeling pressure or tightness around certain body parts, such as a hand gripping the arm or something heavy on the chest.
Less Used Examples:
Temperature Changes: Feeling extreme cold or heat on the skin without any external cause.
Wetness or Dripping: Feeling as though liquid is dripping or running down the skin, even when dry.
Phantom Touches: Sensations of being touched or grabbed, often when alone. Sometimes its an almost feather like touch, other times its more akin to a grab that if reak would leave a bruise.
Right now let's expand - because there are more than 5 senses.
Proprioceptive Hallucinations
Description: Proprioception is the sense of the relative positioning of one's body parts. Proprioceptive hallucinations involve distorted perceptions of where your body is in space or how it is moving.
Common Examples:
Floating Sensation: Feeling as if the body is levitating or moving without control.
Distorted Body Size: Perceiving limbs or the entire body as being unnaturally large or small.
Less Used Examples:
Misaligned Limbs: Feeling as though limbs are twisted or out of place.
Movement Hallucinations: Sensing movements that aren't occurring, like swaying or rotating.
Common causes: Neurological disorders or the effects of certain drugs, but can by caused by a huge array of things.
Vestibular Hallucinations
Description: Vestibular sensations involve balance and spatial orientation. Vestibular hallucinations affect your sense of balance, making you feel dizzy or as though you're moving when you're stationary.
Common Examples:
Vertigo: A spinning sensation, as if the environment or oneself is rotating.
Imbalance: Feeling as though you're about to fall over or can't maintain your balance.
Less Used Examples:
Motion Sensation: Sensing movement, like rocking or swaying, when you're still.
Gravity Distortions: Feeling as if gravity is stronger or weaker than it actually is.
Common caused: Inner ear issues, migraines, or anxiety.
Temporal Hallucinations
Description: Temporal hallucinations involve distorted perceptions of time. They can make time feel like it's speeding up, slowing down, or standing still.
Common Examples:
Time Dilation: Feeling as though time is passing much slower than it actually is.
Time Compression: Perceiving time as moving rapidly, making events feel like they're passing in a blur.
Less Used Examples:
Frozen Moments: Experiencing time as if it's stopped, with everything around you appearing frozen.
Temporal Displacement: Feeling as though you're living in a different time period.
Temporal Dissonance: Feeling as if time is moving differently for you in comparison to those around you.
Common caused: Extreme fatigue, high stress, or under the influence of certain drugs.
Interoceptive Hallucinations
Description: Interoception refers to the perception of sensations from within the body, such as hunger, thirst, or the feeling of a heartbeat. Hallucinations in this realm involve feeling internal sensations that aren't actually occurring.
Common Examples:
False Hunger: Feeling extremely hungry despite having eaten recently.
Nonexistent Thirst: An intense sense of thirst even when well-hydrated - I have had this one a few times and given myself electrolyte imbalances due tot he amount of water I ended up drinking (not fun).
Less Used Examples:
Phantom Heartbeats: Feeling the heart racing or skipping beats without any physical basis.
Digestive Sensations: Sensations of digestion, such as gurgling or bloating, without any real cause.
Common causes: Panic disorder or certain types of seizures.
Right, now lets quickly review the main "causes" of hallucinations
Mental Illness:
Schizophrenia: Can involve basically anything from this list, but anecdotally auditory and visual appear to be the most common.
Bipolar Disorder: Can include hallucinations, especially during manic or depressive episodes.
Schizoaffective Disorder: A combination of symptoms from both schizophrenia and mood disorders, often leading to a variety of hallucinations.
EUPD/BPD: Auditory hallucinations are relatively common.
In all of these the hallucinations will rarely (if ever) exist in isolation. If you do not have primary or secondary experience of mental illness then I would recommend doing a LOT of research - and talking to people who do (on this note my asks are open if anyone has any schizoaffective based questions).
Neurological Conditions:
Epilepsy: Particularly temporal lobe epilepsy, can cause a range of sensory hallucinations.
Parkinson's Disease: Can lead to visual and auditory hallucinations.
Migraine: Migraine auras can include visual and auditory hallucinations.
Once again the hallucinations will not be in isolatation so same advice as with mental illness.
Substance Use and Withdrawal:
Psychedelics: Drugs like LSD, psilocybin, and mescaline are known for causing vivid visual and auditory hallucinations.
Stimulants: Methamphetamine and cocaine can cause tactile and visual hallucinations.
Alcohol Withdrawal: Can lead to visual, auditory, and tactile hallucinations.
You know what I am going to say that my "if you do not have experience of this then go talk to someone who does" advice may just stand for every potential cause.
Sleep Disorders:
Sleep Deprivation: Can cause a variety of hallucinations across different senses.
Narcolepsy: Often includes hypnagogic (while falling asleep) and hypnopompic (while waking up) hallucinations.
Medical Conditions:
Delirium: Acute confusion and hallucinations often seen in severe infections, fever, or after surgery.
Dementia: Especially Lewy body dementia and Alzheimer's disease, can cause hallucinations.
Medications:
Anticholinergics: Can cause hallucinations as a side effect.
Steroids: High doses can sometimes lead to hallucinations.
Certain Antidepressants and Antipsychotics: Occasionally, these medications can cause hallucinations.
Psychological Stress and Trauma:
PTSD: Flashbacks and hallucinations related to traumatic events.
Extreme Stress: Can sometimes trigger hallucinations.
Metabolic and Endocrine Disorders:
Thyroid Disorders: Hyperthyroidism or hypothyroidism can sometimes cause hallucinations.
Electrolyte Imbalances: Severe imbalances can lead to hallucinations.
Deprivation:
Sensory Deprivation: Go google the ganzfeld effect, it's facinating.
Isolation: Extended periods of isolation can lead to hallucinations, known as sensory deprivation hallucinations.
Autoimmune Disorders:
Lupus: Can cause neurological symptoms including hallucinations.
Tumors:
Brain Tumors: Depending on their location, they can cause hallucinations affecting different senses.
Ok, finally point for this post. Let's discuss insight, because it is not as black/white or binary as people seem to assume.
Definition: Insight, in this context, refers to the awareness and understanding that one's hallucinations are not real but are a product of their mind. Insight can be partial or complete, and it often fluctuates.
Complete Insight:
Description: The individual fully understands that their hallucinations are not real and are caused by an underlying condition.
Impact: This can help the person manage their symptoms more effectively and seek appropriate treatment. However, it doesn't necessarily lessen the distress caused by the hallucinations.
Partial Insight:
Description: The individual has some awareness that their hallucinations might not be real but can still struggle with differentiating them from reality.
Impact: This can lead to confusion and anxiety, as the person oscillates between believing and doubting their experiences.
Lack of Insight:
Description: The individual firmly believes that their hallucinations are real and external.
Impact: This can lead to significant distress and functional impairment, as the person might respond to these hallucinations as if they were real.
Now imagine these three points on a scale from 0 (complete insight) to 10 (lack of insight) a person can be anywhere on this scale, and can slide back and fourth along it.
Factors such as stress, fatigue, medication changes, or daily fluctuations in mental state can cause insight to vary. A person might have high insight at one moment and low insight the next.
Basically Insight Is Not Static.
Also sometimes insight is just FREAKING RANDOM fluctuation for no discernible reason - honestly at times there is zero logic.
so ye, halluncinations… the brain is freaking wild.
Disclaimer - this is by no means an exhaustive list and like with many things every individual will experience these things slightly differently.
A similar post about delirium A similar post about fever
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blackthornwren · 2 months ago
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I ask myself this a lot lately: is everything exactly what it seems?
The mind and the senses kind of naturally rail against those spirits we engage with that can't be categorized or rationalized easily - not the unknown, but rather the can't-be-known.
Some things have no name, others have no form. On a very surface level, we work to let go of expectations so we can see what's really there. In a deeper sense, I believe we have to continue to cast aside these constraints we put on the spirits we engage with, and our way of perceiving them.
Spirit work involves a lot of fighting against our own apophenia - a need to distort by forcing into form and creating connections that aren't there. It's really easy to want to assign name and nature to something that can't fit neatly into a box.
It's a fact that we will make mistakes, be mistaken about the nature of, or identity of, a spirit at some point in the journey. The trick is to keep peeling away the layers, until pretty wrappings and trappings fall away and we can see what's really in front of us.
Don't blink. Don't be afraid to take yourself apart. Let yourself, and the spirits around you, become complicated.
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2b4st4r · 1 month ago
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Decayed
Kid x reader, law x reader, luffy x reader.
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Words: 13,311 ( actual story)
789 (luffys part)
657(kids part)
966(laws part)
Warnings: graphic violence, mention of decay/ aging,strong language, theme of isolation/being a burden.
P.s. THERE ARE MULTIPLE ENDINGS..
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
The air in the dimly lit corner of the Wano tavern hung thick with the mingled scents of cheap sake and grilled meat. Outside, the perpetual twilight of Onigashima cast long, distorted shadows, but within the rough-hewn walls, a different kind of unease simmered. You sat there, a figure both captivating and subtly unsettling, perched on a stool as if it were a fragile thing. Your presence was a quiet storm, a stillness that hinted at unimaginable power lurking beneath a deceptively calm surface.
Whispers followed you like the smoke from a poorly rolled cigarette. Some spoke of impossible feats, of mountains crumbling at a mere glance, of storms bowing before your will. The most daring rumors even dared to compare your strength to that of the seemingly invincible Kaido, the Beast King himself. They called you many names – the Shrouded Calamity, the Silent Doom – each syllable laced with a mixture of awe and terror.
You took a slow sip of your drink, the ceramic cup feeling strangely vibrant beneath your fingertips. The Fushi Fushi no Mi, the Decay-Decay Fruit, pulsed faintly within you, a constant reminder of the terrifying power you wielded. A single, careless touch could turn the sturdy wood of the counter to dust, the vibrant life of a nearby flower to brittle ash. It was a power that demanded constant vigilance, a silent burden you carried with an almost serene grace. Tonight, however, the usual guarded stillness in your eyes held a flicker of something else – a hint of curiosity, perhaps, or maybe even the faintest stirring of anticipation in this land ruled by beasts and shadowed by secrets. The night was young, and in Wano, anything could happen.
The tavern door crashed inward with a boisterous bang, splintering the relative quiet like a dropped sake bottle. A wave of raucous laughter and clanking metal washed over the room as the Heart Pirates, the Kid Pirates, and the Straw Hat Pirates spilled inside. It was a chaotic symphony of boisterous greetings and playful shoves, a stark contrast to the hushed atmosphere that had clung to the tavern moments before.
The ordinary patrons, those seeking a quiet drink and a brief respite from Wano's oppressive reality, exchanged nervous glances. Within minutes, a small exodus began, the scraping of chairs and hurried footsteps fading into the night. They were wise to leave. The air now crackled with a different kind of energy, the volatile mix of three notorious pirate crews under one roof.
Yet, amidst the departing crowd, you remained. Unflinching, you continued to sip your drink, your gaze steady. The boisterous pirates barely registered you, their attention consumed by their own reunion. A few other long-time residents of Onigashima’s underbelly, individuals hardened by years of living in the shadow of Kaido, also stayed put, unfazed by the sudden influx of chaos. They had seen worse.
The Straw Hats, led by their ever-energetic captain, Monkey D. Luffy, were a whirlwind of motion. Roronoa Zoro, his three swords prominent, leaned against a pillar, a perpetual scowl etched on his face. The navigator, Nami, her sharp eyes scanning the room, seemed to be calculating the potential for trouble – or profit.
Nearby, the Kid Pirates exuded a more menacing aura. Captain Eustass Kid, his metallic arm gleaming in the dim light, surveyed the tavern with a predatory gaze, his first mate Killer a silent, watchful presence beside him.
Across the room, the Heart Pirates, with the stoic Trafalgar Law at their helm, moved with a more controlled purpose. Law’s keen eyes, however, flickered across the remaining patrons, a brief pause lingering on your still form before he turned his attention back to his crew.
The tavern, once a place of quiet anonymity, had become a stage set for a potential collision of forces. And you, the rumored enigma, the one whispered to rival even a Yonko, sat calmly in the eye of the gathering storm, an unreadable expression on your face. The night had just begun.
The boisterous energy of the three pirate crews filled the tavern, a tangible wave of ambition and raw power. Luffy, true to form, was already attempting to sample everyone's drinks and food, his infectious laughter echoing through the room. Kid leaned against the bar, a sneer playing on his lips as he watched Luffy's antics, while Law stood slightly apart, his gaze sharp and observant as he conversed quietly with his first mate, Bepo.
It was Law who first seemed to truly register your presence. His eyes, usually so guarded and analytical, narrowed almost imperceptibly as they flickered back to your corner. He paused mid-sentence, a subtle shift in his posture betraying a heightened awareness. It wasn't your appearance, which was striking yet understated, that caught his attention. It was something deeper, a feeling that prickled at the back of his neck – a sense of immense, almost suffocating power that radiated from you in silent waves. He had faced Yonko, felt the crushing weight of their Haki, but this was different. This was a dormant volcano, a quiet storm that hinted at unimaginable destruction.
Kid, ever attuned to displays of strength, also seemed to pick up on the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His crimson eyes, usually fixed on the Straw Hats with a mixture of disdain and rivalry, flickered towards you. He scowled, a low growl rumbling in his chest. There was something about your stillness, the utter lack of tension in your posture despite the palpable energy you exuded, that grated on his nerves. It was the quiet confidence of someone who knew they held a trump card.
Even Luffy, in the midst of trying to convince Zoro to share his sake, paused, his head tilting slightly. His usual carefree grin faltered for a fleeting moment as his gaze, surprisingly sharp when focused, landed on you. There was a flicker of something akin to curiosity, perhaps even a primal recognition of a formidable presence, before his attention was once again diverted by the promise of more food.
Law, however, remained fixed on you. He took a slow step forward, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of Kikoku. The air in your corner seemed to thicken, the boisterous laughter of the pirates fading into a dull hum.
"You," Law's voice cut through the noise, low and steady. "Who are you?"
All eyes in the tavern turned towards you. The Straw Hats and Kid Pirates, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, fell silent, their previous revelry momentarily forgotten. The few remaining locals held their breath, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity.
You finally lowered your drink, the movement slow and deliberate. Your gaze, which had been distant and contemplative, now met Law's directly. There was no challenge in your eyes, no arrogance, only a profound stillness that seemed to absorb the intensity of his stare.
A faint smile touched your lips, a fleeting expression that held more mystery than amusement. "Just someone passing through," you replied, your voice soft, yet carrying a strange resonance that seemed to fill the sudden silence of the tavern. "Someone who enjoys a quiet drink."
But the air remained charged, the unspoken question hanging heavy between you and the captains of the new generation. They had sensed it, the immense power that lay coiled beneath your calm exterior. And in the unpredictable landscape of Wano, such power could either be a valuable ally or a devastating enemy. The game, it seemed, had just gained a new, and potentially very dangerous, player.
The tense silence hung in the air, thick enough to cut with a blade. Law's gaze remained fixed on you, his suspicion palpable. Before you could elaborate on your cryptic statement, a sudden tremor ran through the tavern. The wooden beams groaned, dust rained down from the ceiling, and the sake bottles rattled precariously on the shelves.
"What the hell was that?" Kid growled, his metallic arm flexing instinctively.
Before anyone could answer, the tavern door burst open once more, this time revealing a frantic townsman, his face pale with terror. "They're here! Kaido's men! They're rounding up anyone who looks even slightly suspicious!"
Panic erupted. The remaining locals scrambled for cover, their earlier stoicism shattered by the immediate threat. The pirates, however, remained alert, their eyes narrowed in anticipation of a fight.
In the ensuing chaos, a large, burly Beast Pirate, easily twice the size of a normal man, stumbled backwards, sent sprawling by a stray kick from one of Kid's crew. He flailed wildly, his massive hand reaching out for anything to steady himself. His desperate grip landed squarely on your arm, his thick fingers wrapping around your bare forearm.
The moment his skin made contact with yours, a visible ripple spread outwards from the point of contact. The Beast Pirate let out a strangled gasp, his eyes widening in disbelief and dawning horror. The vibrant color drained from his skin, replaced by a sickly grey. His once taut muscles seemed to deflate, his flesh wrinkling and sagging as if decades were collapsing onto him in mere seconds. His thick, calloused hand, still gripping your arm, began to resemble the brittle claw of an ancient corpse.
A collective gasp swept through the tavern. The pirates, momentarily stunned by the suddenness and the sheer unnaturalness of the transformation, stared in horrified fascination. The burly Beast Pirate, who had been a picture of brute strength just moments before, now looked like a frail old man on the verge of collapse. His grip loosened, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he crumbled to the floor, a pile of withered flesh and brittle bones.
You stood there, your arm where he had touched you seemingly unaffected, your expression unreadable. The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the soft thud of the decayed body hitting the wooden floor. The air, already thick with tension, now crackled with a potent mix of fear and bewildered awe.
All eyes were on you, the mysterious stranger who had just turned a formidable Beast Pirate into dust with a single touch. The rumors, the whispers of unimaginable power, suddenly seemed terrifyingly real. The Fushi Fushi no Mi had revealed its horrifying truth, and the three pirate captains, along with their crews, now understood that the quiet figure in the corner was far more dangerous than they could have possibly imagined.
The silence stretched, taut and heavy. The sheer impossibility of what they had just witnessed hung in the air, a grotesque testament to your power. Even the seasoned pirates, who had seen their fair share of bizarre Devil Fruit abilities, were momentarily speechless.
Then, a slow clap echoed through the stunned silence. It was Luffy. His usual wide, goofy grin was stretched even wider, bordering on manic. His eyes, wide and sparkling with unrestrained wonder, were fixed on you.
"Sugoi!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with pure, unadulterated amazement. "You can make people old instantly! That's so cool!" He took a step forward, his rubbery limbs seeming to coil with excitement. "Hey! Can you do it again? Can you make that table all crumbly?"
Nami smacked the back of his head. "Luffy! Don't just go waltzing over there! We have no idea who this person is or what they're capable of!" Her voice was sharp with a nervous edge, her eyes darting between you and the withered corpse on the floor.
Zoro's hand instinctively tightened on the hilt of Wado Ichimonji, his one visible eye narrowed in cautious assessment. Usopp, ever the cautious one, had already retreated behind Franky, peeking out with wide, fearful eyes. Chopper trembled, muttering about the terrifying implications of such an ability. Robin, however, observed you with a thoughtful curiosity, her expression betraying a flicker of intrigue.
Across the room, the Kid Pirates were equally tense, though their reactions were more subdued. Killer's masked face remained impassive, but his posture was coiled and ready. Kid himself stared at you, his crimson eyes narrowed in a mixture of disbelief and grudging respect. A low whistle escaped his lips. "Damn," he muttered, a hint of awe in his voice despite himself. "That's…something else."
Law, ever the pragmatist, remained still, his gaze unwavering. There was a flicker of something akin to scientific curiosity in his eyes, overlaid with a healthy dose of caution. "That Devil Fruit…" he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "To accelerate decay to that extent…it's unlike anything I've encountered." He pushed his glasses up his nose, his analytical mind already dissecting the implications of your power.
"You said you were just passing through," Law continued, his voice calm but with an underlying sharpness. "That seems like quite the understatement. Someone with such a…destructive ability doesn't simply 'pass through' Wano unnoticed. Who are you, really?"
The weight of their combined attention bore down on you. Three of the most formidable captains of the new era, their crews on high alert, all waiting for your answer. Luffy, however, seemed oblivious to the tension, his starry eyes still fixed on you with childlike wonder.
"Can you turn metal rusty too?" he asked, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. "That would be super useful against those samurai with their shiny swords!"
You met Law’s piercing gaze with an unreadable expression. The raw curiosity in Luffy’s voice, however, drew a faint, almost imperceptible smile to your lips. The contrast between the Straw Hat captain’s unbridled wonder and the more guarded reactions of the others was…intriguing.
"Indeed," you finally replied, your voice still soft but now carrying a hint of amusement. "The Fushi Fushi no Mi allows me to accelerate the decay of anything I touch. Organic, inorganic…the principle remains the same. The rate and intensity, however, are…variable." You glanced pointedly at the withered form of the Beast Pirate, a silent testament to the upper limits of your control.
Kid scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Variable, huh? You turned that brute into dust in seconds. Doesn't sound very 'variable' to me."
"Control is paramount," you countered, your gaze flicking to him briefly before returning to Law. "Untamed power is merely destruction. Precision allows for…finesse."
Law’s eyes narrowed further. "Finesse? What possible 'finesse' could be derived from such a gruesome ability?"
Before you could answer, Luffy bounded forward a few more steps, ignoring Nami’s protests. "Can you make food go bad really fast? Imagine all the rotten meat we could throw at our enemies!"
You tilted your head slightly, a genuine smile now gracing your features. "That…is certainly one application."
"Luffy, stop it!" Nami snapped, grabbing the back of his collar. "You're being incredibly rude and reckless!"
Despite Nami’s scolding, Luffy’s innocent fascination seemed to defuse some of the immediate tension in the room. The sheer absurdity of his question, juxtaposed with the grim reality of your power, was almost comical.
You finally rose from your stool, your movements fluid and graceful despite the undercurrent of immense power you exuded. You were of average height, your clothing simple yet elegant, doing little to reveal the secrets you held. Your face, framed by strands of dark hair, held a timeless quality, your eyes deep pools that seemed to hold eons of untold stories.
"My name," you said, your voice carrying a quiet authority that commanded attention despite its softness, "is…unimportant for now. As I said, I am merely passing through Wano. My presence here is…temporary." You offered a slight bow, a gesture that was both polite and subtly dismissive. "Please, continue your…reunion. I will take my leave."
With that, you turned and walked towards the shattered doorway, your movements silent and swift. The three pirate captains and their crews watched you go, a whirlwind of thoughts and unanswered questions swirling in their minds. The mysterious stranger with the terrifying power had arrived as quietly as they were now departing, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease and a profound curiosity. In a land as volatile and unpredictable as Wano, they knew they hadn't seen the last of you.
The chaotic energy of the tavern slowly dissipated in your wake, leaving behind a heavy silence punctuated by the Straw Hats’ bewildered chatter. Luffy, despite Nami’s continued reprimands, was still buzzing with excitement about your abilities.
“Imagine if Y/N could touch Kaido!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide. “Would he get all wrinkly and weak?”
Zoro grunted, taking a swig of sake. “Don’t be stupid, Luffy. Someone that strong probably has ways to defend themselves.”
“But still!” Luffy persisted. “That decay power is amazing! We should ask them to join our crew!”
Nami nearly choked on her drink. “Are you insane?! We just saw them turn a person into dust with a single touch! They’re way too dangerous!”
Robin chuckled softly, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Intriguing, isn’t it? Such a potent ability, wielded with such…restraint.”
Unbeknownst to them, your path, seemingly set on a quiet departure from Onigashima’s chaos, was about to intersect with the Straw Hats once more, albeit in a far less volatile setting.
Days later, the Straw Hats found themselves navigating the treacherous landscape of Wano’s countryside. They were scouting for potential allies and gathering information, a task made difficult by the ever-present threat of Kaido’s forces. A sudden downpour had forced them to seek shelter within the dilapidated remains of a small, abandoned shrine nestled deep within a bamboo forest.
The air inside was damp and still, the only sound the rhythmic drumming of rain on the decaying roof. Luffy, predictably restless, was poking around the dusty altar, while Nami meticulously wrung out her soaked hair. Zoro leaned against a crumbling pillar, his senses alert, and the others were similarly occupied with trying to make the best of their unexpected refuge.
Then, a soft sound broke through the drumming of the rain – the gentle rustling of bamboo leaves. Zoro’s eye snapped open, his hand instantly moving towards his swords. Nami tensed, her gaze darting towards the entrance of the shrine.
Standing in the doorway, framed by the grey curtain of rain, was you. You were cloaked in a simple, dark garment that did little to conceal the air of quiet power that always seemed to surround you. A faint mist clung to your shoulders, and droplets of rain glistened in your dark hair.
A moment of stunned silence hung in the air. It was Luffy who broke it, his face lighting up with his signature grin.
“Ah! It’s the old-making person!” he exclaimed, pointing at you with a wide smile. “Hey! What are you doing here?”
Nami smacked him again. “Show some respect, Luffy!” she hissed, though her own surprise was evident.
You stepped further into the shrine, your gaze sweeping over the Straw Hats, a hint of recognition in your eyes. “It seems fate has a peculiar sense of humor,” you said softly, your voice echoing slightly in the confined space. “Or perhaps, the rain simply drives us all to seek the same shelter.”
The Straw Hats stared at you, a mixture of surprise and cautious curiosity etched on their faces. Luffy, ever the anomaly, seemed genuinely pleased by the unexpected reunion.
"You're all wet!" he declared, oblivious to the underlying tension. "Come sit down! This old place isn't the best, but it's dry-ish!" He gestured vaguely towards a relatively less dusty corner of the shrine.
You inclined your head slightly. "Thank you." You moved with the same fluid grace they had witnessed in the tavern, settling near the back wall, a comfortable distance away from the Straw Hats but not overtly isolating yourself.
Nami, ever the pragmatist, was the first to break the renewed silence. "What are you doing out here, all alone? This area isn't exactly safe, even without Kaido's men crawling around."
"My path takes me through this land," you replied, your gaze distant, as if you were looking beyond the crumbling walls of the shrine. "Solitude is…often preferable."
"But you're incredibly strong!" Luffy interjected, his eyes shining with admiration. "Why aren't you fighting Kaido or something? You could probably beat him!"
A flicker of something unreadable crossed your face. "Strength is not always best used in direct confrontation, Captain," you said, your gaze briefly meeting Luffy's. "Sometimes, the most potent force is the one that remains unseen."
Zoro grunted, his arms crossed. "Sounds like you're hiding something."
"Everyone carries their secrets, swordsman," you countered, your voice even. "It is what defines us, in part."
Robin smiled gently. "You mentioned your path. Does it have a destination?"
You hesitated for a moment, your gaze softening slightly as you looked at the archaeologist. "Eventually. But for now, I simply observe, I learn…and I try not to leave too much…decay in my wake." You glanced down at your hands, a subtle shadow passing over your expression.
The rain continued its relentless drumming, creating a temporary truce in the tense atmosphere. The Straw Hats, despite their initial caution, found themselves intrigued by your enigmatic presence. There was a quiet sadness about you, a sense of immense power carefully leashed, that piqued their curiosity.
Luffy, never one for prolonged seriousness, suddenly grinned. "Hey! Since we're all stuck here, do you know any cool stories? You seem like you've seen a lot of things!"
The unexpected request seemed to catch you off guard. A faint smile touched your lips once more, a genuine, almost wistful expression. "Stories…" you murmured, as if the word held a distant memory. "Perhaps…perhaps I do."
And as the rain continued to fall outside, the mysterious figure known only for their terrifying power began to weave tales of forgotten lands and long-lost histories, captivating the Straw Hat Pirates with glimpses into a world far beyond their own adventures in Wano. For a brief moment, the shared shelter transcended the uncertainty of their meeting, replaced by the timeless magic of storytelling.
Hours drifted by, filled with your captivating tales. You spoke of ancient civilizations swallowed by time, of forgotten seas teeming with mythical creatures, and of individuals who wielded powers that dwarfed even the mightiest Devil Fruits. Your voice, though soft, held a resonance that painted vivid pictures in their minds. The Straw Hats, even the usually stoic Zoro, were enthralled, their initial apprehension replaced by a sense of wonder.
As the last vestiges of the storm retreated, the rain softening to a gentle drizzle before ceasing altogether, a sliver of golden sunlight pierced through the gaps in the dilapidated roof. You rose, your movements as silent as your arrival.
"The rain has passed," you stated simply, your gaze drifting towards the now clearing sky. "My path calls me onward."
Luffy, who had been hanging on your every word, jumped to his feet. "Wait! You're leaving already?" He puffed out his chest, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "Hey! I have a question! You're really strong, right? And your power is super cool! So…will you join my crew?"
The question hung in the air, direct and guileless, a stark contrast to the cautious observations of the other Straw Hats. You turned to face him, your expression thoughtful.
"Join your crew, Captain?" you echoed softly. "Your journey is a vibrant one, filled with a camaraderie I have…not often encountered." A fleeting hint of melancholy touched your eyes before being quickly masked. "However, my path is a solitary one, for now. My…touch…is not always a blessing."
You walked towards a sturdy, albeit moss-covered, stone lantern that stood near the entrance of the shrine. You paused, your hand hovering over its weathered surface for a moment. Then, with a gentle touch, your fingers brushed against the cold stone.
A faint, greyish mist emanated from your hand, swirling around the lantern. The moss withered and crumbled to dust. The stone itself seemed to soften, the sharp edges blurring. In a matter of seconds, the once ordinary lantern had transformed. The decaying stone had reformed into an intricate sculpture, a delicate lattice of interconnected vines and blooming, albeit petrified, flowers. It was a breathtakingly beautiful object, born from the very power that brought decay.
The Straw Hats stared in stunned silence. The grotesque nature of your ability had been juxtaposed with an unexpected artistry.
You stepped back, your gaze lingering on the transformed lantern. "A parting gift," you said softly. "A reminder that even destruction can give birth to something…new."
Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked out of the dilapidated shrine, disappearing into the lush greenery of the bamboo forest as silently as you had arrived. Luffy watched you go, his expression a mixture of disappointment and awe.
"So…that's a no?" he asked, tilting his head.
Nami sighed. "He didn't exactly say no, Luffy. But it definitely wasn't a yes."
Robin smiled enigmatically. "Perhaps our paths will cross again. The world is a surprisingly small place."
As the Straw Hats emerged from the shrine, the intricately decayed stone lantern stood as a silent testament to the mysterious power and enigmatic nature of the individual they had briefly encountered. The question of whether you would ever join their crew remained unanswered, hanging in the air like the lingering scent of rain on the forest floor.
A day later, the humid air of Wano clung to you like a second skin as you navigated a less-traveled path through a dense forest. The encounter with the Straw Hats had been…unexpected. Their vibrant energy and unwavering camaraderie were a stark contrast to the solitude you usually sought. Luffy’s directness, in particular, had been a refreshing anomaly.
The rustling of leaves ahead broke your contemplative silence. It wasn't the random stirring of the wind or the skittering of small animals. This was a more deliberate movement, the kind that spoke of human presence. You halted, your senses sharpening, the subtle thrum of the Fushi Fushi no Mi a familiar undercurrent within you.
Rounding a bend in the path, the source of the disturbance came into view. It was a small group of figures, their distinctive yellow and black submarine, the Polar Tang, partially concealed amongst the trees near a hidden cove. The Heart Pirates.
Trafalgar Law stood near the water's edge, his coat swaying gently in the breeze, engaged in a quiet conversation with Bepo. Several other members of his crew were scattered nearby, some tending to minor repairs on the submarine, others keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings.
Their presence here, in this seemingly remote location, was intriguing. Law was not one for aimless wandering. He always had a purpose, a calculated move in the intricate game he was playing in Wano.
Law’s sharp eyes, ever vigilant, spotted you almost immediately. His hand instinctively drifted towards the hilt of Kikoku, his usual guarded expression hardening slightly. Bepo, ever loyal and protective, stepped forward, a low growl rumbling in his throat. The other Heart Pirates also tensed, their movements becoming more alert.
"You," Law stated, his voice carrying across the small clearing, devoid of any friendly greeting. "We meet again. You seem to have a habit of appearing where you are least expected."
You stopped a few paces away, your own expression neutral. "And you, Captain Trafalgar," you replied, your voice calm. "Your penchant for clandestine meetings in secluded locations remains consistent."
The air crackled with a different kind of tension than your encounter with the Straw Hats. Law was not driven by innocent curiosity or boundless optimism. His gaze was analytical, probing, seeking to understand the threat or the potential advantage you might represent.
"What is your purpose in this forest?" Law asked, his voice sharp. "This is not a place for casual strolls."
"My purpose is my own," you countered, your tone polite but firm. "Just as yours is likely known only to your crew."
A tense silence descended, the only sound the gentle lapping of water against the hull of the Polar Tang. Law’s eyes narrowed, studying you intently, as if trying to decipher the enigma that lay beneath your calm exterior. The memory of the Beast Pirate’s rapid decay was undoubtedly fresh in his mind. This unexpected second encounter held the potential for either conflict or an uneasy alliance in the unpredictable landscape of Wano.
Law’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent interrogation. The other Heart Pirates stood ready, their hands near their weapons. The air thrummed with unspoken suspicion.
"While your purpose may be your own," Law finally said, his voice carefully measured, "our paths seem to be intersecting with increasing frequency. In a land as dangerous as Wano, such coincidences rarely remain harmless."
Before you could respond, a frantic shout echoed from deeper within the forest. "Captain! We've got company! Beast Pirates!"
Several figures, clad in the roughspun attire and animalistic features characteristic of Kaido’s crew, burst through the trees, their weapons drawn and their faces contorted in aggressive snarls. They had clearly stumbled upon the Heart Pirates' hidden location.
"Damn it!" Law cursed under his breath, his hand now firmly gripping Kikoku. "They found us."
The Heart Pirates sprang into action, their movements swift and coordinated. Bepo roared, launching himself towards the oncoming attackers. Penguin and Shachi drew their cutlasses, their expressions grim.
You stood still for a moment, observing the unfolding chaos. The Beast Pirates, though numerous, were clearly outmatched by the seasoned Heart Pirates. However, their arrival had disrupted Law’s clandestine meeting and posed a potential threat to their operation.
As a particularly large Beast Pirate, wielding a spiked club, lumbered towards Law, the captain prepared to intercept him with a swift slash of his sword. But the pirate was surprisingly fast, his club arcing down with brutal force.
Instinctively, you moved. It wasn't a conscious decision to aid them, but a reaction to the immediate threat. You sidestepped the pirate’s wild swing and, with a fleeting touch, your fingers grazed the wooden handle of his club.
The effect was instantaneous and horrifying. The thick wood of the club seemed to age centuries in a blink. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, the once sturdy material turning brittle and grey. As the pirate brought the club down again, it disintegrated upon impact with the ground, crumbling into a pile of dust and splinters.
The Beast Pirate stared at the remnants of his weapon in bewildered shock, giving Law the opening he needed. With a swift shambles, Law teleported behind the stunned pirate and delivered a precise cut with Kikoku, incapacitating him instantly.
The other Beast Pirates faltered, their initial aggression replaced by confusion and a dawning sense of unease as they witnessed their comrade’s weapon turn to dust with a mere touch. Their eyes darted towards you, a new element of fear entering their brutish faces.
Law landed gracefully beside you, his sword still held loosely in his hand. He glanced at the pile of dust that was once a formidable weapon, then turned his sharp gaze to you.
"That ability…" he began, his voice a low murmur, a mixture of surprise and something akin to reluctant understanding in his tone.
The remaining Beast Pirates, seeing their advantage lost and a terrifying new element introduced to the fight, began to retreat back into the forest, their bravado replaced by a panicked scramble.
The Heart Pirates stood their ground, watching the fleeing enemies disappear amongst the trees. A tense silence descended once more, this time broken only by Bepo’s heavy breathing.
Law sheathed Kikoku, his gaze still fixed on you. "You…intervened." It wasn't a question, but a statement, tinged with a hint of disbelief.
You simply nodded, your expression neutral. "Their presence was disruptive."
Law’s eyes narrowed, but this time, the suspicion seemed to be tempered with a grudging acknowledgment. "Indeed. It seems our paths have intersected in a way that…benefited us." He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Why?"
You met Law’s probing gaze, a flicker of something akin to weariness in your eyes. "Disruptions rarely serve anyone's long-term goals," you replied, your voice soft but firm. "Their presence threatened your…clandestine activities. And prolonged conflict draws unwanted attention in this land."
Law considered your words, his analytical mind dissecting your motives. He was clearly still wary, but the blatant display of your power, used to their benefit, had undeniably shifted the dynamic.
"You could have simply left," he pointed out, his gaze still sharp. "Why involve yourself?"
A faint sigh escaped your lips, a rare display of emotion. "Perhaps…I am tired of the endless cycle of conflict. Perhaps a moment of…equilibrium…is preferable." You glanced towards the direction the Beast Pirates had fled. "They will likely return with reinforcements. Your hidden location is compromised."
Law’s expression turned grim. He knew you were right. Their temporary sanctuary had been exposed.
"You seem surprisingly knowledgeable about our situation," he observed, his suspicion resurfacing.
"I observe," you reiterated, your gaze sweeping over the Heart Pirates. "It is in my nature. And in a land ruled by chaos, information is a valuable currency."
He remained silent for a moment, then a flicker of his characteristic pragmatism crossed his features. "Regardless of your reasons, you assisted us. That merits…acknowledgment." He inclined his head slightly, a gesture that seemed almost reluctant. "We are in your debt."
Bepo, ever loyal to his captain, looked at Law with surprise. It was rare for him to offer such a direct acknowledgment to a stranger.
"However," Law continued, his gaze returning to its usual intensity, "that does not erase the fact that you possess a terrifying power and remain an enigma. What do you intend to do now?"
You turned your gaze towards the Polar Tang, its sleek form a stark contrast to the surrounding wilderness. "My path continues onward. But perhaps…for a short while…our paths could align. Your hidden location is compromised. Traveling alone in this forest is…inefficient."
A thoughtful silence descended upon the Heart Pirates. They exchanged glances, clearly weighing the potential benefits and risks of traveling alongside someone with your unpredictable power. Law, however, seemed to be already calculating the possibilities. An alliance, even a temporary one, with someone capable of such devastating and subtle destruction could be a significant asset in navigating the treacherous landscape of Wano and achieving his own objectives.
"An…interesting proposition," Law finally said, a hint of a calculating glint in his eyes. "What would be your terms?"
You met Law's calculating gaze with an equally steady one. "My terms are simple," you stated, your voice clear and devoid of any demanding tone. "I require no allegiance, no commitment beyond the immediate present. I offer assistance when our paths align with a common obstacle. In return, I ask for information relevant to my own…endeavors…and safe passage through territories you may control or influence."
The Heart Pirates listened intently, their expressions ranging from wary suspicion to cautious curiosity. Bepo looked towards Law, awaiting his captain's decision.
Law stroked his chin thoughtfully, his gaze still fixed on you. "Information is a valuable commodity in Wano. And safe passage…depends on the territory." He paused, considering the implications. "However…your display of power was…persuasive. And your assessment of our current predicament is accurate."
He took a step closer, his gaze intense. "I will offer you a temporary alliance, under the terms you have outlined. You are free to travel alongside us, and we will share information that may be mutually beneficial. In return, we expect your…assistance…when necessary. And," he added, his eyes narrowing slightly, "we expect no…unforeseen applications of your Devil Fruit on our crew or our allies."
You inclined your head slightly. "An agreeable arrangement, Captain."
A tense silence followed, the unspoken question of your true intentions hanging in the air. Law, however, seemed to have made his decision, his pragmatic nature overriding his inherent caution.
"Furthermore," Law continued, his gaze surprisingly direct, "once this…alliance…has served its purpose…I would extend a more permanent offer. Your abilities are…unique. A force such as yours could be invaluable." He paused, his eyes searching yours. "Consider joining the Heart Pirates, Y/N."
The offer hung in the air, unexpected and carrying a weight that surprised even you. Law was not one to make such offers lightly. He valued the cohesion and loyalty of his crew above almost all else.
You met his gaze, your expression unreadable. The idea of belonging, of being part of a crew, was a foreign concept, a stark contrast to your solitary existence. Yet, there was a certain…intrigue…in his proposition. The Heart Pirates, despite their initial suspicion, possessed a unique dynamic, a blend of loyalty and competence that was…compelling.
"Your offer is…noted, Captain," you replied, your voice carefully neutral. "The future, however, remains unwritten. Let us navigate the present first."
Law nodded slowly, a hint of a rare, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips. "Fair enough. Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, prepare the Polar Tang for departure. We need to find a new anchorage." He turned back to you. "Welcome aboard…for now, Y/N."
And just like that, the solitary path you had walked had intersected with the unpredictable journey of the Heart Pirates. The temporary alliance had been forged, but the question of your true allegiance, and whether you would ever truly join their ranks, remained a mystery, a silent undercurrent in the unfolding events of Wano.
Following your lead, the Heart Pirates quickly mobilized, their movements efficient and practiced. Bepo took point, his Sulong form briefly flaring as he sniffed out the safest route through the dense foliage. Penguin and Shachi flanked you, their eyes darting nervously between the surrounding trees and your still form. Law brought up the rear, his gaze sharp and watchful.
Your knowledge of the terrain, gleaned from your days of quiet observation, proved invaluable. You navigated them through hidden pathways and avoided potential Beast Pirate patrols, leading them to a secluded cove further inland, one that offered better concealment for the Polar Tang.
Once the submarine was safely nestled amongst the jagged rocks and overgrown vegetation, a collective sigh of relief swept through the Heart Pirates. The immediate threat had been neutralized, thanks in no small part to your unexpected intervention.
Law turned to you, his expression still guarded but with a hint of something akin to respect. "You have proven…useful," he conceded, a rare compliment from the usually taciturn captain. "Your knowledge of this land is impressive."
You simply nodded. "Observation often yields valuable insights."
The Heart Pirates began to settle into their temporary sanctuary, some tending to the submarine, others setting up watch. You remained slightly apart, your gaze drawn towards the dense forest that stretched beyond the cove. The allure of solitude, of the quiet anonymity you usually embraced, was beginning to tug at you once more.
After a while, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the cove, you turned to Law. "Captain Trafalgar," you said, your voice quiet but carrying clearly in the stillness of the evening. "The immediate threat has passed. You are in a secure location, for now. My path calls me onward."
Law regarded you with a thoughtful expression. "You are leaving?" There was a hint of surprise in his voice, perhaps a lingering expectation that you might stay longer, given his earlier offer.
"My assistance was a response to a momentary disruption," you explained, your gaze steady. "My journey is not intertwined with yours. Solitude…suits me."
Bepo stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "But the Beast Pirates saw your power! They'll be hunting for you!"
"I have evaded those who seek me for far longer than you have navigated these seas, polar bear," you replied, a hint of amusement in your tone. "I am…adept at remaining unseen when necessary."
Law remained silent for a moment, his eyes studying you intently. He seemed to be weighing the potential benefits of pressing you to stay against the inherent unpredictability of your nature. Finally, he nodded slowly. "I understand. Your…independence is palpable."
He offered another slight inclination of his head, a gesture that seemed to convey a grudging respect for your decision. "If our paths cross again, perhaps under different circumstances…"
You returned the nod, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching your lips. "Perhaps, Captain. The seas are vast, but fate has a curious way of weaving connections."
With that, you turned and walked towards the edge of the cove, disappearing into the deepening shadows of the forest. The Heart Pirates watched you go, the enigmatic figure fading into the wilderness as silently and mysteriously as you had appeared. They were left with the lingering memory of your terrifying power and the unsettling feeling that they had only scratched the surface of the secrets you held. The brief alliance, born out of necessity, had come to an end, leaving them to ponder the true nature of the impossibly strong stranger who had briefly walked among them.
A few days later, the oppressive humidity of Wano's inland territories clung to you as you traversed a rocky, sparsely vegetated region. The encounter with the Heart Pirates had been brief, a fleeting alliance born of circumstance. Now, the familiar cloak of solitude had settled back upon your shoulders.
The distant clang of metal against metal, carried on the dry wind, broke the silence. It was a harsh, discordant sound, indicative of conflict. You paused, your senses automatically on alert. While you generally avoided unnecessary entanglements, the intensity of the clashing suggested a significant confrontation.
Moving with silent grace, you approached the source of the noise, weaving through jagged rock formations. The scene that unfolded was a brutal melee. The Kid Pirates, easily identifiable by their distinctive punk-inspired attire and Eustass Kid's imposing metallic arm, were locked in a fierce battle against a contingent of Beast Pirates.
Kid, his face a mask of fury, wielded his magnetic powers with devastating effect, crushing weapons and sending armored foes flying. Killer, his scythes a whirlwind of deadly precision, danced through the fray, leaving a trail of incapacitated enemies in his wake. However, they were outnumbered, and the sheer brute force of the Beast Pirates was beginning to wear them down.
A particularly large, tusked Beast Pirate swung a massive spiked mace towards Killer, who narrowly dodged the blow. Before Killer could retaliate, another Beast Pirate lunged at him from the side. Kid, momentarily occupied with crushing a group of riflemen, couldn't intervene in time.
Instinctively, you moved. You reached the two closest rocks, each roughly the size of a human head, and with a subtle application of your Devil Fruit power, you accelerated their decay. In the blink of an eye, the sturdy stones crumbled into fine dust. With a silent flick of your wrist, you propelled the dust clouds towards the two Beast Pirates threatening Killer.
The fine grey powder billowed into their faces, momentarily blinding and choking them. They staggered back, coughing and sputtering, their attacks faltering. Killer, seizing the opportunity, swiftly incapacitated both of them.
Kid, noticing the sudden intervention, turned his head, his crimson eyes narrowing as they landed on you. He scowled, his expression a mixture of suspicion and grudging curiosity.
"Oi! What the hell do you think you're doing?" he bellowed over the din of the battle, his voice rough.
The remaining Beast Pirates also turned their attention towards you, their initial aggression momentarily replaced by confusion and a flicker of unease as they witnessed the bizarre cloud of dust that had incapacitated their comrades.
You stepped forward, your expression neutral, the dust motes swirling around you like a silent shroud. "Merely…leveling the playing field," you replied, your voice calm amidst the chaos. "Disruptions rarely end favorably for either side in the long run."
Kid’s scowl deepened, his metallic arm sparking with contained energy. "Leveling the playing field? You some kind of do-gooder now?" He spat the words out as if they left a foul taste in his mouth. "We had things under control."
Killer, ever the pragmatist, lowered his scythes, his masked gaze fixed on you. "They were gaining the upper hand, Captain. That dust…what was it?"
The remaining members of the Kid Pirates also eyed you warily, their hands still gripping their weapons. They had witnessed firsthand the devastating power of your touch, and now they had seen another strange application of your abilities.
"Simply accelerated decay," you explained, your voice even. "The rocks were…unstable. Their deterioration was…expedited."
Kid snorted. "Unstable rocks, huh? Convenient. You just happen to be strolling by when we're in a pinch?" His suspicion was palpable. He was not a captain who readily accepted help without questioning the motives behind it.
Before the tension could escalate further, the remaining Beast Pirates, witnessing the bizarre turn of events and the incapacitation of their comrades, roared in renewed fury and charged forward.
"Looks like your 'leveling' didn't quite finish the job," Kid sneered, his attention snapping back to the immediate threat. His metallic arm whirred, drawing in discarded weapons from the battlefield. "Alright, you weirdo! Stay out of our way unless you actually plan on helping properly!"
The Kid Pirates surged forward to meet the renewed attack, their movements brutal and efficient. Kid unleashed a barrage of scrap metal, tearing through the ranks of the Beast Pirates. Killer resumed his deadly dance, his scythes flashing.
You watched the battle unfold for a moment, assessing the situation. The Kid Pirates were undoubtedly strong, but they were still outnumbered and taking heavy blows. Your intervention with the dust had provided a temporary reprieve, but the sheer attrition of the Beast Pirates’ numbers was a significant threat.
With a quiet sigh, you stepped forward once more. This time, instead of subtle manipulation, you moved with a more direct approach. As a hulking Beast Pirate with a massive axe lunged towards a downed member of the Kid Pirates, you intercepted him. Your hand shot out, your fingers brushing against the metal of the axe head.
The effect was immediate and dramatic. The once gleaming metal dulled instantly, a layer of rust blooming across its surface like a grotesque flower. Cracks appeared, spiderwebbing across the axe head. The Beast Pirate roared in confusion as his weapon crumbled in his grip, turning into a pile of brittle, oxidized fragments.
He stared at the remnants of his axe in disbelief, leaving himself wide open. Killer, who had been moving to aid his fallen crewmate, seized the opportunity and swiftly took down the stunned Beast Pirate.
A collective gasp went through both pirate crews. The sheer speed and destructive power of your ability were horrifyingly evident. Kid himself paused in his assault, his crimson eyes widening slightly as he witnessed the instantaneous decay of the axe.
"What the hell…?" he muttered, a rare note of genuine surprise in his voice. Even he, with his formidable magnetic powers, had never witnessed anything quite like it.
The remaining Beast Pirates, their morale visibly shaken by the disintegration of their comrade’s weapon, began to falter. The tide of the battle was turning, not through brute force alone, but through the terrifying, silent power of decay.
The sight of the axe crumbling into rust seemed to drain the fight from the remaining Beast Pirates. Their crude roars of aggression turned into panicked cries as they stumbled backward, fear replacing their earlier ferocity. They had faced powerful fighters, even those with strange Devil Fruit abilities, but the instantaneous decay you wielded was something alien and terrifying.
Kid, seizing the moment, unleashed another powerful magnetic blast, sending a cluster of their fallen comrades’ weapons hurtling towards the retreating Beast Pirates. The impact scattered them, their disorganized retreat turning into a full-blown rout.
Soon, the only sounds were the heavy breathing of the Kid Pirates and the distant crashing of Beast Pirates fleeing through the undergrowth. An uneasy silence settled over the battlefield.
Kid lowered his outstretched arm, his crimson eyes fixed on you. He ran a hand through his spiky red hair, a look of grudging respect mixed with lingering suspicion on his face.
"Alright, weirdo," he said, his voice less hostile than before. "I gotta admit, that was…something. Turning metal to dust like that. What the hell is your deal?"
Killer approached, his masked face inscrutable. "Your abilities are…unusual. And incredibly dangerous."
The other members of the Kid Pirates also gathered around, their gazes a mixture of awe and apprehension. They had just witnessed firsthand the terrifying potential of this mysterious stranger who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
You met Kid’s gaze, your expression as unreadable as ever. "My 'deal,' as you put it, is simply survival. And occasionally…a desire to expedite the inevitable." You glanced at the retreating forms of the Beast Pirates. "Prolonged conflict serves no one."
Kid snorted, but there was a hint of reluctant agreement in his tone. "Yeah, well, thanks for the save, I guess. We had it mostly handled, but…that definitely sped things up." He paused, studying you intently. "You just wander around doing…that? Turning things old and crumbly?"
"In essence," you confirmed, your voice calm.
"You got a name?" Kid asked, his curiosity piqued despite his gruff demeanor.
You hesitated for a moment, a flicker of your usual guardedness returning. "Names…are often burdens. For now, you can simply call me…Y/N."
Kid grunted. "Y/N, huh? Sounds…fitting." He crossed his arms over his chest. "So, Y/N, you just gonna disappear again? Like some kind of ghost?"
"My path is my own, Captain Kid," you replied, your gaze drifting towards the horizon. "But our paths seem to have a peculiar tendency to intersect."
A wry smirk touched Kid’s lips. "Yeah, well, try not to make it a habit of showing up just when things get interesting. It's messing with my reputation for causing chaos." Despite his words, there was a hint of something else in his eyes – a grudging acknowledgment of your strength and a flicker of intrigue regarding the mysteries you held. The encounter with Y/N, the stranger who could turn the very fabric of existence to dust, had left an undeniable impression on the notorious Captain Eustass Kid and his crew.
Kid continued to regard you with a mixture of suspicion and fascination. "Look, Y/N," he began, his usual abrasive tone slightly softened, perhaps by the undeniable assistance you had provided. "You're strong. Freakishly strong, in a seriously messed-up way. And you showed up twice now when things were getting hairy. Maybe it's more than just coincidence."
He gestured with his metallic arm, encompassing the battlefield littered with the remnants of the Beast Pirates' weapons. "My crew…we're aiming for the top. Taking down every damn obstacle in our way. Having someone like you on our side…someone who can turn our enemies into dust with a touch…that'd be a hell of an advantage."
He paused, his crimson eyes locking onto yours. "So, what do you say, Y/N? Join the Kid Pirates. Help us paint this world red."
The members of his crew watched you with a similar mix of anticipation and apprehension. They had seen your power, and while it was terrifying, they also recognized its potential. Having such a force on their side could tip the scales in their favor in the brutal New World.
You considered his offer, your gaze sweeping over the faces of the Kid Pirates. They were a fierce and ambitious crew, driven by a relentless desire for power. Their path was one of open defiance and brutal conquest, a stark contrast to the more calculated and often secretive actions of the Heart Pirates.
"Join your crew, Captain Kid?" you echoed, your voice thoughtful. "Your ambition is…unmistakable. And your resolve…commendable." A fleeting hint of something akin to understanding flickered in your eyes. The desire to carve one's own path in this chaotic world was a sentiment you could, on some level, appreciate.
However, the thought of fully aligning yourself with such a volatile and openly confrontational force gave you pause. Your nature was to remain in the shadows, to observe and interfere only when necessary. The Kid Pirates’ approach was anything but subtle.
"Your path," you continued, your gaze returning to Kid, "is one of open conflict. Mine…is more…circumspect." You offered no direct answer, neither a yes nor a no.
Without waiting for further prompting, you turned and began to walk away from the battlefield, your movements silent and purposeful. The Kid Pirates watched you go, their expressions a mixture of frustration and intrigue.
"Hey! Don't just walk away!" Kid bellowed after you, his metallic arm flexing angrily. "Are you in or out, weirdo?"
You paused for a moment, your back still to them. "The future," you said softly, your voice carried on the wind, "is rarely written in stone, Captain Kid. Perhaps our paths will cross again. Until then…"
And with that, you continued your departure, disappearing into the rugged landscape, leaving the Kid Pirates to ponder the enigmatic figure who had twice intervened in their affairs, offering immense power without the commitment of allegiance. The question of whether Y/N would ever join their ranks remained unanswered, a lingering mystery in their relentless pursuit of dominance.
——
A rare and volatile truce had descended upon a small, war-torn section of Onigashima. The Straw Hats, the Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates found themselves in a temporary, uneasy alliance against a common enemy – Kaido and his forces. The air was thick with the tension of three fiercely independent crews forced to cooperate, punctuated by the occasional snarky remark or outright argument between their headstrong captains.
Luffy, predictably, was the loudest, his booming laughter and demands for more food echoing through the ravaged landscape. Kid, arms crossed and a perpetual scowl etched on his face, traded insults with him, their personalities clashing like colliding metals. Law, ever the pragmatist, stood slightly apart, his gaze sharp as he surveyed their surroundings, trying to maintain a semblance of order in the chaotic assembly.
"Oi! Straw Hat! I told you not to eat all the damn rations!" Kid’s voice boomed, pointing a metallic finger accusingly at Luffy, who was happily stuffing his face with a large chunk of meat.
"Shishishi! But it's so good!" Luffy retorted, crumbs flying from his mouth.
"You two sound like children," Law sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We have more pressing matters to attend to."
It was Zoro, his senses honed from years of navigating treacherous waters and hostile environments, who first noticed the distant figure. His one good eye narrowed as he spotted a solitary form moving with a quiet grace along the edge of a crumbling cliff face, some distance away from their makeshift camp.
"Hey," Zoro grunted, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of Wado Ichimonji. "Look over there."
All eyes turned in the direction he indicated. Even Luffy and Kid momentarily ceased their bickering, their attention drawn by the unusual sight. There, silhouetted against the bruised twilight sky, was you. Your form was unmistakable, even at that distance, radiating a subtle aura of quiet power that seemed to ripple through the very air.
A hush fell over the assembled pirates. The Straw Hats exchanged curious glances, a flicker of recognition in their eyes. The Heart Pirates, especially Law, tensed, their memories of your sudden appearances and unsettling abilities still vivid. The Kid Pirates, particularly Kid himself, stared with a mixture of grudging respect and lingering intrigue.
"Well, well," Kid drawled, a sardonic smirk spreading across his face. "Looks like our favorite walking dust cloud decided to grace us with their presence again."
Luffy’s eyes widened, his usual grin returning. "Oh! It's the old-making person!" he exclaimed, waving enthusiastically despite the distance. "Hey! Y/N!"
Law’s gaze was more analytical, his hand unconsciously tightening on Kikoku. "What are they doing here?" he murmured, his voice low. "Another 'coincidence'?"
The three pirate crews, united by a common enemy but still wary of each other, now found their attention drawn to the mysterious figure in the distance. Your unexpected reappearance sparked a fresh wave of questions and uncertainties in the already volatile landscape of their temporary alliance. The enigma of Y/N, the impossibly strong stranger with the power of decay, continued to weave its way into their chaotic destinies.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the assembled pirates as they all recognized the distant figure. The Straw Hats chattered amongst themselves, recalling your brief presence in the dilapidated shrine. The Heart Pirates exchanged knowing glances, remembering your unexpected assistance in the forest. The Kid Pirates, led by their captain’s sardonic commentary, regarded you with a mixture of grudging respect and lingering curiosity.
It was Luffy’s innocent exclamation that inadvertently brought a surprising revelation to the forefront. “Hey! Y/N! You never said if you were gonna join my crew!” he called out, his voice echoing across the distance.
Kid scoffed. “Join your crew, Straw Hat? Don’t flatter yourself. They almost joined mine.” He turned to Law, a smug look on his face. “Right, Trafalgar? They helped us out too. Seemed like they were considering my offer.”
Law’s usual stoic composure flickered with a hint of surprise. “They…offered assistance to us as well,” he admitted, his gaze still fixed on your distant form. “And when I offered them sanctuary, they neither accepted nor refused.”
A stunned silence descended upon the three crews as the realization dawned on them. Each of the three formidable captains had, in their own way, extended an invitation to this mysterious individual, and in each instance, they had received a non-committal response.
Luffy’s jaw dropped. “Eh? You guys asked Y/N to join too?”
Kid’s smirk widened. “Looks like our silent friend here is playing the field.”
Law’s expression remained more guarded, his analytical mind already dissecting this new piece of information. The fact that you had piqued the interest of all three captains, each with their own distinct ambitions and formidable reputations, spoke volumes about the enigmatic power you possessed.
“They never actually said they’d join anyone,” Nami pointed out, her brow furrowed in thought. “They just…helped us out and then left.”
“Yeah, but they didn’t say no either!” Luffy insisted, ever the optimist.
“Hmph. Probably just playing hard to get,” Kid scoffed, though there was a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.
Law, however, seemed to grasp a deeper implication. “Their actions suggest a…disinclination towards permanent alliances,” he mused, his gaze thoughtful. “They intervene, offer assistance, but maintain their independence.”
The three crews continued to watch you in the distance, the realization that they were all vying, unknowingly, for the attention of this impossibly strong and elusive figure adding another layer of complexity to their already strained alliance. The mystery of Y/N, the silent force capable of wielding decay itself, had deepened, leaving the three ambitious captains to wonder about their true motives and ultimate allegiance.
The revelation that each captain had, in their own way, attempted to recruit you ignited a fresh wave of their characteristic bickering.
"Of course they'd want to join my crew!" Luffy declared, puffing out his chest. "We have the most fun!"
"Fun doesn't win you the Pirate King title, Straw Hat!" Kid retorted, his metallic arm gesturing emphatically. "They saw real ambition with my crew!"
"Ambition without strategy is mere recklessness," Law interjected coolly, pushing up his glasses. "I offered a pragmatic alliance, a means to navigate this treacherous land effectively."
Their voices rose, each captain vehemently arguing why their crew was the most logical choice for someone of your apparent caliber. Their respective crews could only watch, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on their faces.
"Honestly, they're acting like children fighting over a toy," Nami sighed, shaking her head.
"A very powerful and potentially dangerous toy," Zoro added, his gaze still occasionally flicking towards your distant figure.
Amidst the escalating argument, a soft, almost musical sound drifted across the ravaged landscape – a faint giggle. It was a sound that none of them had heard from you before, a delicate ripple in the tense atmosphere.
The arguing captains abruptly fell silent, their attention snapping back towards your distant form. You had paused on the cliff edge, your head tilted slightly, as if you had been listening to their boisterous debate. A faint smile played on your lips, the first genuine expression of amusement they had witnessed.
Your voice, when it finally carried across the distance, was soft yet clear, cutting through the lingering tension like a gentle breeze. "My, my," you said, a hint of playful mockery in your tone. "Such…enthusiasm. But forgive me, Captains. Who said I even wanted to join any of you?"
A stunned silence descended upon the three pirate crews. The realization dawned on them that they had all been so caught up in their own self-importance and the perceived value of your power that they hadn't even considered your own desires. The impossibly strong Y/N, the enigmatic figure they had all sought to recruit, might have no interest in becoming a subordinate to anyone. The power you wielded was your own, and your path, it seemed, was yours alone to choose. The three ambitious captains were left to ponder this humbling revelation, the air thick with a newfound sense of uncertainty.
The silence that followed your question was thick with a mixture of disbelief and wounded pride. The three formidable captains, used to having others clamor for a place in their ranks, seemed momentarily dumbfounded by the notion that you might not automatically desire to join their crew.
Luffy was the first to break the silence, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced by a look of genuine bewilderment. "Eh? You don't wanna join? But we're gonna be the Pirate King's crew! That's the coolest!"
Kid scoffed, his arms crossed. "Please. Joining the Straw Hats is a one-way ticket to getting into trouble for all the wrong reasons. Anyone with half a brain would see that joining the future ruler of the seas – my crew – is the obvious choice." He shot a disdainful look at Luffy.
Law sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose again. "Neither of your approaches is particularly…persuasive. I offered a strategic alliance, a means to navigate the complexities of the New World with a higher chance of survival."
You watched their reactions with a detached amusement, a slight quirk in your lips hinting at the entertainment you were deriving from their squabbling. After a moment, you tilted your head, your gaze sweeping over the three of them.
"Interesting," you mused aloud, your voice carrying a playful lilt. "So, each of you believes your path to be the most…advantageous." You paused, your eyes twinkling slightly. "Tell me then…amongst the three of you…who is the strongest?"
The effect was instantaneous. The fragile truce shattered like glass.
"Me, of course!" Luffy declared, slamming a fist into his chest. "I'm gonna be the Pirate King! The strongest there is!"
"Don't make me laugh, Straw Hat!" Kid roared, his metallic arm crackling with energy. "My power will crush anyone who stands in my way! I'm the strongest of the Worst Generation!"
"Strength without precision is meaningless," Law countered coolly, his hand resting on Kikoku. "My Devil Fruit allows for abilities none of you can comprehend. True strength lies in control and strategy."
The argument erupted anew, each captain vying to prove their superiority. Luffy launched into a series of exaggerated tales of his past victories, Kid boasted about his magnetic prowess and unwavering ambition, while Law calmly explained the versatility and devastating potential of his Ope Ope no Mi.
Their crews could only watch the spectacle unfold, a familiar blend of pride and embarrassment on their faces.
"They never learn, do they?" Nami sighed, rubbing her temples.
"It's kind of…endearing in a weird way," Usopp chuckled nervously.
"Just try not to get caught in the crossfire," Zoro grunted, keeping a wary eye on the arguing captains.
You stood on the cliff edge, a genuine smile now gracing your features as you observed the chaotic display. The sheer ego and unwavering self-belief of these three powerful individuals were…fascinating. The question of who was truly the strongest remained unanswered, lost in the whirlwind of their competitive spirits. And as their bickering continued, one thing became clear: convincing you to join their ranks was proving to be a far more challenging endeavor than any of them had anticipated.
As the cacophony of the captains' ego-fueled debate reached a fever pitch, you moved with the practiced silence of a shadow. Amidst Luffy's boisterous claims, Kid's metallic clanging gestures, and Law's coolly delivered strategic pronouncements, your departure went completely unnoticed. The three ambitious pirates were far too engrossed in their self-proclaimed superiority to pay any heed to the enigmatic figure who had sparked their childish squabble.
You melted into the surrounding shadows, your movements fluid and effortless. The ravaged landscape of Onigashima, with its crumbling structures and uneven terrain, provided ample cover. You navigated the darkness with an innate sense of direction, the sounds of the arguing pirates fading behind you.
Hours later, under the inky expanse of the Wano night sky, you found a secluded spot. Perched atop a relatively undamaged rooftop overlooking a desolate section of the island, you sat alone, the cool night air whispering around you. The moon, a sliver of silver in the vast darkness, cast long, eerie shadows.
The sounds of the ongoing conflict, the distant clashes and explosions, were a muted symphony in the background. Here, away from the boisterous pirates and the immediate threat of Kaido's forces, a sense of quiet contemplation settled over you. The vastness of the night sky, dotted with distant stars, offered a perspective that dwarfed the petty squabbles and grand ambitions of the world below.
It wasn't long before your solitude was broken once more. The sounds of approaching footsteps, though light, were distinct in the stillness of the night. You didn't need to turn your head to know who it was. Their presence carried a unique energy, a blend of recklessness and unwavering determination.
Luffy emerged from the shadows, his silhouette framed against the faint moonlight. He approached you slowly, his usual boundless energy subdued by the quiet of the night. He sat down a respectful distance away, his gaze fixed on the starlit sky.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice lacking its usual boisterousness. "What are you doing all the way out here?"
You turned your head slightly, your gaze meeting Luffy's in the dim moonlight. There was a quiet curiosity in his eyes, a stark contrast to the boisterous energy he usually exuded. The night seemed to have a way of stripping away the usual bravado, revealing a more thoughtful side.
"Simply observing," you replied, your voice soft, barely disturbing the stillness of the night. "The stars offer a perspective that the chaos below often obscures."
Luffy was silent for a moment, his gaze returning to the sky. "They're pretty," he murmured. "We don't always get to see them so clearly."
Another comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the distant sounds of battle. Then, Luffy spoke again, his tone more hesitant this time.
"You never really answered us," he said, his eyes flicking towards you and then back to the stars. "About joining our crew. Or Kid's. Or Law's."
You regarded him with a gentle gaze. "Each of you has a strong will, a clear ambition. Your paths are vibrant and full of…potential."
"But…you don't wanna join any of them?" Luffy asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"My path is…different," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "My touch…it carries a weight. A constant reminder of the impermanence of things. It is not always easy to walk alongside others when your very presence can accelerate their journey towards…the inevitable."
Luffy was silent for a long moment, seemingly contemplating your words. Then, he turned to you, a look of understanding dawning in his eyes.
"So…it's not that you don't like us?" he asked, a hopeful note in his voice. "It's just…your power makes things…complicated?"
You offered a small, sad smile. "Something like that, Captain."
Luffy nodded slowly. "I get it," he said, though it was unlikely he fully grasped the weight of your burden. Yet, there was a genuine empathy in his tone. "Being strong can be lonely, huh?"
You met his gaze, a flicker of surprise in your eyes. For someone so seemingly carefree, Luffy possessed a surprising capacity for understanding.
"Sometimes," you admitted softly.
Luffy was silent again for a while, then a wide grin suddenly spread across his face, chasing away the contemplative mood. "But you're not alone now!" he declared, punching the air lightly. "We're all here! Even if you don't wanna join our crew, you're still…around, right?"
You regarded his infectious optimism, the way he could find light even in the darkest of circumstances. A genuine warmth spread through you, a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time.
"For now, Captain," you replied, a hint of a smile returning to your own lips. "For now, I am."
The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while longer, watching the stars and listening to the distant sounds of the ongoing battle. The unspoken understanding between the seemingly carefree captain and the impossibly strong, solitary figure created a fragile bond under the vast expanse of the Wano night sky.
The quiet camaraderie under the starlit sky was soon broken by a familiar gruff voice. "Oi! Straw Hat! What do you think you're doing, sneaking off with our mysterious friend?"
Kid's imposing silhouette emerged from the shadows, his metallic arm gleaming in the moonlight. He approached you both, his crimson eyes narrowed with suspicion as he looked from Luffy to you.
"Don't think I didn't notice you disappearing during our…spirited debate," Kid continued, his gaze fixed on Luffy. "You're not trying to force them to join your ragtag bunch, are you?"
Luffy tilted his head, his innocent demeanor returning. "Force them? Nah! Y/N can do whatever they want!" He grinned at you. "Right?"
You nodded slowly. "Indeed, Captain. My choices are my own."
Kid's gaze remained sharp, his suspicion not entirely dispelled. "Still, you two look awfully chummy for someone who supposedly wants to be left alone." He shot a pointed look at you.
"We were just looking at the stars," Luffy explained simply, pointing upwards. "They're really pretty tonight."
Kid snorted. "Stars? You dragged our potential powerhouse recruit all the way out here to look at space rocks?"
"They have a name, you know," you interjected calmly, your gaze meeting Kid's. "And the vastness they represent is far more compelling than any fleeting ambition on this small island."
Kid's eyes narrowed further, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "Oh, so you're taking their side now?"
"I am taking no one's side, Captain Kid," you replied evenly. "I merely offer a different perspective."
The tension between Luffy and Kid began to rise again, their competitive natures resurfacing.
"Y/N likes looking at the stars with me!" Luffy declared, puffing out his chest.
"They were probably just being polite," Kid scoffed. "Anyone with real vision can see that joining my crew is the smarter move."
Before another full-blown argument could erupt, a cool voice cut through the air. "What is going on here?"
Law emerged from the shadows, his figure cloaked in the darkness, Kikoku's hilt visible at his side. His sharp gaze swept over the three of you, a hint of irritation in his voice.
"Some of us are trying to formulate a strategy to survive the night," Law continued, his eyes settling on Luffy and Kid. "Your incessant bickering is hardly conducive to that goal." He then turned his attention to you, his expression unreadable. "And you. I assumed you would have departed by now."
The three captains, each with their own agenda and vying for your attention in their own way, now found themselves in an awkward standoff under the watchful gaze of the night sky. The fragile alliance was once again strained, the enigmatic Y/N inadvertently becoming a point of contention between the ambitious leaders.
The tense standoff was abruptly broken by a sharp intake of breath and a muffled grunt. The section of the rooftop where you had been sitting crumbled silently beneath you, the aged and weakened material finally succumbing to the subtle, passive influence of your Devil Fruit. You plummeted downwards, landing with a less-than-graceful thud on a lower, more stable section of the dilapidated building.
A small cloud of dust billowed around you as you pushed yourself up, a grimace etched on your face. "Damn it," you muttered, brushing off the decaying remnants of the rooftop. "I hate this ability." The words were spoken more to yourself than to the bewildered pirates above.
The three captains stared down at you, their earlier animosity momentarily forgotten in the face of this unexpected display of your uncontrolled power.
Luffy's eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa! What happened?"
Kid's brow furrowed. "The hell was that? Did you just…make the roof fall apart?"
Law's gaze was sharp and analytical, his earlier irritation replaced by a renewed sense of caution. He observed the crumbling section of the rooftop, his mind already piecing together the implications of your ability's passive effect.
"It seems your power is more…pervasive than we initially understood," Law stated, his voice low and thoughtful. "It affects even inanimate objects through prolonged proximity?"
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "It's…subtle. I can control the intensity with direct touch, but there's always a residual effect. Prolonged contact…or even just being in close proximity for an extended period…can accelerate decay in fragile materials." You scowled. "It makes finding a comfortable place to sit a constant challenge."
The unintentional display of your uncontrolled ability served as a stark reminder of the burden you carried. The immense power that made you such a potential asset also made close interaction a constant risk. The three ambitious captains, who had been so eager to recruit you, were now faced with a tangible demonstration of the inherent difficulties of having you as an ally. The humor of their earlier squabble vanished, replaced by a renewed sense of the unpredictable and potentially dangerous nature of the individual before them.
The dust settled around you, a tangible manifestation of the destructive force you constantly had to manage. You looked up at the three captains, their expressions now a mixture of surprise and a dawning understanding.
"It's not just living things," you said, your voice carrying a weary resignation. "Everything I touch…eventually decays. Living, non-living…it’s a constant, subtle erosion. Makes close contact…difficult." The words hung in the air, carrying a weight that went beyond the literal decay of objects. It spoke of a life lived at arm's length, a fear of the inevitable consequence of intimacy.
Luffy, despite his usual boisterousness, was surprisingly quiet. He hopped down from the rooftop, landing softly beside you. His brow was furrowed in thought, his gaze surprisingly empathetic. "So…you gotta be careful all the time?" he asked, his voice softer than usual. He then grinned, his infectious optimism returning. "But that's okay! We're super careful! We'll build you special chairs made of really strong stuff! And you can wear gloves all the time! We'll figure it out! Being with us is always fun! We look out for our nakama!" His offer was simple, heartfelt, a promise of unwavering companionship and practical solutions, a shield against the loneliness your ability seemed to impose.
Kid scoffed, but his usual abrasive tone held a surprising undertone of something akin to understanding, perhaps born from his own experience of being feared and ostracized for his destructive powers. He jumped down, landing with a metallic thud. "Hmph. So you're a walking disaster zone. Big deal. The world's a messed-up place anyway. My crew…we don't shy away from a little destruction. We embrace the chaos. You wouldn't have to hold back with us. We're all outcasts in our own way. You'd find your own brand of freedom with the Kid Pirates. No need for tiptoeing around." His offer was one of acceptance, a promise of belonging amongst those who understood the burden of wielding dangerous power, a place where your ability wouldn't be a curse but a shared characteristic.
Law descended with his usual quiet grace, his sharp gaze assessing you with a newfound depth. "A constant state of controlled decay," he murmured, more to himself than the others. He then looked at you, his expression serious. "The Ope Ope no Mi…it grants the ability to manipulate the very structure of things. Perhaps…there are ways to mitigate the…unintended consequences of your fruit. My crew…we value knowledge and finding solutions to complex problems. We are not afraid of the unconventional. With us, you would have access to resources, to understanding. We offer not just companionship, but a dedicated pursuit of knowledge that could potentially alleviate your burden." His offer was one of intellectual stimulation and the promise of a cure, a path towards understanding and potentially overcoming the limitations of your devastating ability.
The three captains stood before you, their contrasting offers hanging in the night air. Luffy offered simple, unwavering friendship and practical support. Kid offered acceptance and a place amongst fellow outcasts who embraced destruction. Law offered intellectual pursuit and the potential for a solution to your lifelong burden. Each, in their own way, recognized the weight you carried and offered a unique form of solace within the chaotic world of pirates. The choice, as always, remained yours.
The weight of their unexpected empathy settled over you, a stark contrast to the isolation you had long accepted. Three powerful individuals, each with their own ambitions and flaws, offering a form of comfort you hadn't dared to imagine. The gruff acceptance of Kid, the earnest optimism of Luffy, and the intellectual curiosity of Law – each tugged at a different part of you.
You looked from one to the other, a profound sense of…something akin to hope stirring within you, a feeling so unfamiliar it almost felt like a phantom limb twitching. For so long, your ability had been a wall, separating you from genuine connection. Now, these three captains, in their own flawed yet sincere ways, were offering to dismantle that barrier.
A soft sigh escaped your lips. "Your offers…they are…unexpected," you admitted, your voice carrying a tremor of emotion. "I have lived with this…burden…for so long. The thought of…not having to constantly fear a casual touch…it is…difficult to comprehend."
You looked down at your hands, the source of both immense power and profound isolation. "Everything I touch…eventually decays," you repeated, the words carrying a deeper resonance now, tinged with the longing for a different reality.
The three captains remained silent, allowing you to process the moment. The boisterous rivalry that had defined their interactions earlier had faded, replaced by a shared understanding of the unique predicament you faced.
Finally, you raised your gaze, meeting each of theirs in turn. "I…I need time to consider this," you said, your voice still hesitant but firm. "This…is not a decision to be made lightly. My presence…it carries consequences."
Luffy grinned, his usual optimism undeterred. "Take all the time you need! We'll be here!"
Kid grunted in agreement, though his expression was less overtly enthusiastic. "Just don't take too damn long. The world ain't gonna wait for you to make up your mind."
Law simply nodded, his gaze steady and understanding. "A prudent decision. We will respect your need for contemplation."
The tension in the night air eased slightly. The immediate conflict with Kaido's forces still loomed large, but for this brief moment, a different kind of connection had been forged under the starlit sky of Wano. The impossibly strong Y/N, the solitary figure burdened by their own power, was no longer entirely alone. The seeds of potential belonging, however fragile, had been sown. The choice of which path, if any, to take remained shrouded in the uncertainty of the future.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Choice of straw hats
ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The weight of the night's quiet revelations lingered into the dawn. The ravaged landscape of Onigashima was bathed in the pale light of the rising sun, a stark contrast to the turmoil that still gripped the island. You had spent the remaining hours in quiet contemplation, the words of the three captains echoing in your mind. The prospect of companionship, of a life where your touch wasn't a constant source of fear, was a powerful lure.
The next day, as the Straw Hats gathered to plan their next move, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. You approached them, your usual quiet demeanor carrying a subtle shift, a hint of a decision made.
"Captain Luffy," you said, your gaze meeting his. "I…I am going to stay with you. I think."
Luffy's eyes widened, his face breaking into a grin that could rival the rising sun. "Really?!" he exclaimed, his usual boundless energy returning in a joyous surge. "Shishishi! That's awesome!" He took an instinctive step forward, his hand outstretched to clap you on the shoulder, a gesture of pure, unadulterated joy.
Before his fingers could make contact, you instinctively recoiled, taking a quick step back. A shadow of your usual guardedness flickered across your face. "Captain…my touch…" you began, a note of apology in your voice.
Luffy froze, his outstretched hand suspended in mid-air. The realization dawned on him, the memory of the withered Beast Pirate and the crumbling rooftop a stark reminder. His grin faltered for a fleeting moment, replaced by a look of understanding.
"Oh," he said softly, his hand dropping back to his side. "Right. I forgot." A beat of silence passed, and then his grin returned, even wider than before, somehow undimmed by the physical barrier. "It's okay!" he declared, his voice full of his characteristic optimism. "We can figure it out! No touching rule for me! Easy peasy!" He bounced on the balls of his feet, his excitement palpable.
"I…I apologize, Captain," you murmured, a wave of guilt washing over you. The very person who had offered you such unconditional acceptance was the one you had to keep at a distance.
Luffy waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it! It's your power, right? It's cool! Super strong! We just gotta be a little careful, that's all!" He bounded closer, stopping just out of arm's reach, his eyes shining with genuine affection. There was a warmth in his gaze, an unadulterated admiration that went beyond your strength. He liked you. A lot. An instinctive pull, a sense of rightness whenever you were near, resonated within him, a feeling so new and powerful he couldn't quite name it, but it felt…good. Like finding his favorite meat after a long journey.
The rest of the Straw Hats watched the exchange with a mixture of relief and concern. They were glad you had chosen to stay, recognizing the immense power you brought, but the inherent danger of your touch was not lost on them.
Nami stepped forward cautiously. "Luffy, are you sure about this? We need to be careful. One wrong move…"
Luffy just grinned, his gaze fixed on you. "Don't worry, Nami! I'm rubber! Nothing can hurt me!" He paused, then added with a disarming sincerity, "Besides…Y/N wouldn't hurt us. I can tell."
Zoro grunted, leaning against a nearby wall. "Just try not to turn our ship into a pile of splinters."
Robin smiled gently. "Welcome aboard, Y/N. We are…an unconventional crew, but we value our nakama above all else. We will find a way to navigate this."
You looked at the Straw Hats, their faces a mixture of curiosity and acceptance. Despite the obvious challenges your ability presented, they were willing to welcome you, to find a way to make it work. A warmth spread through you, a feeling of belonging you had never truly experienced before.
"Thank you," you said softly, a genuine smile finally gracing your lips. "I…I will do my best to be careful."
Luffy's grin widened even further, his chest swelling with a feeling he couldn't quite place, a warmth that bloomed in his chest whenever he looked at you. He wanted to be closer, to share his food, to laugh alongside you. He just…felt good when you were around. He didn't understand the depth of it yet, the way his heart did a little flip whenever you looked his way, the almost painful longing to bridge the physical gap your power created. All he knew was that having you here, with them, felt right.
"Alright!" Luffy declared, clapping his hands together. "Let's go kick Kaido's butt! With Y/N on our side, we're unstoppable!" He turned to you, his eyes shining with anticipation. "Ready to go, Y/N?"
Choice of Kid pirates
The weight of their offers lingered in the quiet of the night. You spent the remaining hours in silent contemplation, the distant sounds of the battle a muted backdrop to your internal struggle. The thought of truly belonging, of not having to constantly guard against the unintended consequences of your touch, was both terrifying and alluring. Each captain offered a different facet of what you had unknowingly craved: acceptance, camaraderie, purpose.
As the first rays of dawn painted the ravaged sky in hues of orange and grey, a decision, still fragile but firm, began to take root. The raw, untamed energy of the Kid Pirates, their defiant stance against the world, and the surprising flicker of understanding in Kid’s crimson eyes resonated with a part of you that had long been suppressed. The idea of embracing the chaos, rather than constantly fighting against it, held a certain rebellious appeal. And perhaps, just perhaps, in their company, your destructive power wouldn't always feel like such a solitary curse.
The next day, as the three allied pirate crews gathered once more, a murmur rippled through the assembled ranks. Standing amongst the familiar, punk-inspired attire of the Kid Pirates, was you. You stood slightly behind Kid, your presence still carrying that air of quiet power, but there was a subtle shift in your demeanor, a hint of a newfound…belonging?
Kid, for his part, stood a little straighter, a rare, almost possessive smirk playing on his lips. He didn't make a grand announcement, didn't need to. Your presence amongst his crew spoke volumes.
You stepped forward slightly, your gaze meeting the surprised eyes of Luffy and the more analytical stare of Law. "I have made a decision," you stated, your voice clear and steady. "I am going to stay with you." Your eyes flickered briefly to Kid, a subtle acknowledgment passing between you.
A wide grin erupted on Luffy's face. "Shishishi! You chose someone!" He looked slightly disappointed it wasn't him, but his inherent good nature prevented any real resentment. "Have fun with the metal guy!"
Law’s expression remained impassive, though a flicker of something unreadable crossed his eyes. "I see. Your choice is…intriguing." He offered a curt nod, his pragmatism likely already assessing the implications of this new alliance.
The Kid Pirates, however, erupted in cheers and boisterous shouts of approval. Killer, ever the stoic first mate, offered a rare nod of acknowledgment. The crew seemed to sense their captain’s unspoken…affection…for you, a possessiveness that had been evident in his initial interactions.
Later that day, aboard the Victoria Punk, as the Kid Pirates navigated the treacherous waters surrounding Onigashima, you found yourself leaning against the railing, the salty wind whipping through your hair. Kid approached you, his usual gruff exterior softened ever so slightly.
"So," he began, shoving his hands into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "You actually decided to stick around. Didn't think you had it in you to commit." There was a teasing edge to his voice, but underneath, a layer of genuine…something…flickered.
You turned to him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Commitment was never the issue, Captain. It was finding a place where…my touch…wasn't always a liability."
Kid’s gaze met yours, and for a fleeting moment, the usual arrogance in his crimson eyes softened, replaced by something that could almost be described as…tenderness. He cleared his throat, looking away again, a rare blush dusting his cheeks.
"Well," he mumbled, his voice gruffer than usual. "Don't think this means I'm going soft or anything. You're just…another strong asset. That's all." But the way his crew exchanged knowing glances behind his back told a different story. The notoriously aloof Captain Eustass Kid had clearly developed a significant…attachment…to the mysterious and powerful Y/N. And as the Victoria Punk sailed towards an uncertain future in the tumultuous seas of Wano, a new and unpredictable dynamic had been forged within the ranks of the Kid Pirates.
Choice of the Heart Pirates
The night gave way to a tense dawn over Onigashima. The fragile truce between the three pirate crews held, a silent understanding that the common enemy took precedence, for now. You spent the early hours in quiet contemplation, the weight of the previous night's revelations pressing down on you. The sincerity in the captains' offers had been unexpected, stirring emotions you had long suppressed.
The following day unfolded with a strained sense of normalcy. Scouting parties were dispatched, strategies were discussed (and often vehemently debated), and the uneasy alliance continued its precarious dance. You found yourself observing Law and his crew more closely. Their movements were precise, their interactions efficient, and a quiet camaraderie permeated their ranks. There was a sense of purpose that resonated with the part of you that yearned for order amidst the chaos of your own existence. Law, in particular, held an air of intellectual curiosity and a detached intensity that intrigued you. He treated you with a respectful distance, never pressing for an answer but his gaze often lingered on you, a thoughtful, almost searching quality in his dark eyes.
One afternoon, as the sun beat down on the ravaged landscape, Law found you perched on a relatively stable rooftop, observing the distant movements of Kaido's forces. He approached you with his usual quiet grace.
"You seem…contemplative," he observed, leaning against a crumbling wall beside you.
You nodded, your gaze still fixed on the horizon. "The weight of decision…it is not easily dismissed."
Law was silent for a moment, then spoke in a low voice. "The burden of your ability…it is significant. To live with such a constant threat…it must be isolating."
His quiet understanding resonated with you in a way the more boisterous reassurances of Luffy or the rough acceptance of Kid had not. There was a shared sense of carrying a heavy weight, albeit in different forms.
"It is," you admitted, finally turning to meet his gaze. "The world…it withers in my presence, however subtly. Connection…it feels like a dangerous indulgence."
Law's gaze held yours, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. "But you still seek it," he stated, not as a question, but as an observation. "Otherwise, you would have departed long ago."
His insight surprised you. You had always prided yourself on your inscrutability, yet this man seemed to see a vulnerability you had carefully guarded.
"Perhaps," you conceded, a faint whisper of a word.
He was silent again, then offered a small, almost hesitant smile. "My crew…we are a peculiar bunch. Misfits, each with their own burdens. But we have found a sense of belonging, a shared purpose. Perhaps…you could find something similar with us. We value intellect, strategy, and…compassion, in our own way."
His words, coupled with the quiet competence and unexpected warmth you had observed within the Heart Pirates, resonated deeply. The promise of understanding, of a shared intellectual curiosity, and the subtle hint of acceptance offered a potential anchor in your otherwise solitary existence.
The next day, as the three captains were once again embroiled in a heated (and rather childish) argument about whose plan to infiltrate Kaido's fortress was superior, you made your decision. You approached Law, your steps deliberate.
"Captain Trafalgar," you said, your voice clear and steady.
He turned to you, his usual guarded expression softening slightly with anticipation. Luffy and Kid, mid-shout, also fell silent, their attention drawn to your unexpected address.
"I have considered your offer," you continued, meeting Law's gaze directly. "I will join your crew."
A subtle, almost imperceptible shift occurred in Law's demeanor. His eyes, usually so carefully controlled, held a flicker of something akin to relief, quickly masked but not entirely hidden from your observant gaze. A ghost of a smile touched his lips.
"I see," he said, his voice calm but with an underlying note of satisfaction. "Welcome aboard."
Luffy and Kid stared, their mouths agape. "Eh?! You chose Law's crew?!" they exclaimed in unison, their competitive spirits clearly wounded.
You offered them a small, polite nod. "Each of your offers held merit. But I believe…my abilities and my…inclinations…align most closely with Captain Trafalgar's crew."
As the Straw Hats and Kid Pirates grumbled amongst themselves, Law turned to his crew, a subtle air of authority settling over him. "We have a new member. Treat them with respect." His words were simple but carried an unspoken weight.
Life with the Heart Pirates settled into a rhythm, a blend of strategic planning, medical expertise, and quiet camaraderie. You found a sense of purpose in contributing your unique perspective and formidable abilities to their endeavors. Law, while maintaining a professional distance in public, often sought your counsel in private, his sharp intellect appreciating your insightful observations. He ensured you had comfortable, reinforced spaces, and the crew, under his unspoken directive, were mindful of your touch.
Unbeknownst to the rest of the Heart Pirates (and certainly to Luffy and Kid), Law harbored a deeper affection for you than mere camaraderie. From the moment his gaze had first lingered on your still, powerful form in the Wano tavern, an inexplicable pull had taken root. He was a man of logic and strategy, not given to impulsive emotions, yet something about your quiet strength and the melancholic aura that surrounded you had resonated with him on a profound level. He admired your intellect, the subtle power you wielded with such careful control, and the hidden vulnerability you occasionally revealed. He kept these feelings carefully guarded, masked beneath his usual stoic exterior, content for now to have you by his side, a silent promise of deeper connection held within the confines of his own complex heart. The journey ahead was uncertain, fraught with peril, but with you by his side, a quiet hope bloomed within the Surgeon of Death.
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yanyandam · 3 months ago
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WEIGHTLESS- SANO Shinichiro x fem!Reader
Maybe being stuck in an elevator isn't so bad, - Shin falling in love at first sight
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Shinichiro was in a terrible hurry today. His heart pounded as he strode through the streets, his breath forming faint wisps in the still-cool morning air. The night before, while returning late from the garage, he had caught some kids vandalizing the storefront of S°S MOTORS. Seriously… Those little bastards had been pelting the glass with rocks.
A stroke of luck, though. He had recognized one of them, a local troublemaker. He even knew which building the kid lived in, a worn-down apartment complex covered in faded concert posters and graffiti.
The soles of his sneakers scraped against the asphalt as he reached the entrance. A sigh escaped him. The place reeked of humidity and stale tobacco, the lingering scent of stairwells long neglected. Near the glass door, an old woman was feeding a stray cat. Shinichiro approached her with a forced smile and asked which floor the boy lived on. The old woman slowly lifted her head, squinting through thick glasses, and replied in a raspy voice that the boy lived on the seventh floor, all the way up.
Muttering his thanks, Shinichiro rushed inside the building. Another stroke of luck: there was an elevator. He slipped in just before the doors slid shut. Only once inside did he realize he wasn’t alone. His gaze flicked forward, but he kept to himself, his mind preoccupied. The elevator groaned as it started moving, and he wondered if this metal box could still be trusted.
The moment the elevator doors closed, a voice cut through the stale air, a woman’s voice, carrying the kind of effortless elegance that lingers like the final note of a song. “Which floor?” she asked.
Shinichiro felt his stomach lurch, as if gravity itself had shifted beneath him. His throat went dry, his thoughts scrambled like a faulty engine refusing to start. He had expected silence, maybe an awkward shuffle of feet, not… this. Not a voice that carried a weight he wasn’t prepared for.
“Uh—uh, s-seventh,” he stammered, mentally kicking himself. He was awful at this. Absolutely terrible. He tried to look anywhere but at her, as if avoiding her gaze could erase his own awkwardness. The button panel suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world. His fingers twitched, hesitating before he realized she was waiting for him to press it himself. Damn it. He reached out clumsily, jabbing the button with more force than necessary. The small illuminated number glowed back at him in silent mockery. “Thanks,” he mumbled, barely above a whisper.
For a fleeting moment, Shinichiro was certain he saw the numbers on the panel dance, shifting places in a surreal, dizzying blur. His vision wavered, his balance teetering as if the entire elevator had lost its grip on reality. The air felt heavier, thick with something unnameable, an atmosphere charged, pressing against his skin like static before a storm. He blinked rapidly, trying to steady himself, to anchor his mind back to the simple logic of numbered buttons and ascending floors. But the sensation lingered, twisting in his chest, in his throat. Maybe it was the claustrophobic hum of the elevator, or the lingering echo of that voice, still threading through his thoughts like a melody he couldn’t quite place.
It was just nerves. Just exhaustion. Just a momentary lapse in his already scrambled composure…
The elevator lurched to an abrupt stop, the sudden jolt knocking Shinichiro slightly off balance. A dim flicker ran through the overhead light before settling into an uneasy glow. A metallic creak echoed from above, followed by the scratchy distortion of a speaker crackling to life.
“Looks like we’ve run into a bit of a technical issue,” a voice announced, slightly muffled. “Seems like this elevator’s gonna be stuck for a while. We’re estimating about… thirty minutes. Hang tight.” A soft click, then static. Then nothing.
Shinichiro barely heard the rest of it. His brain had latched onto one singular fact: He was stuck. In a confined space. For half an hour. With her. He swallowed, palms suddenly clammy. His mind, ever the eloquent narrator of his own suffering, whispered: I’m trapped with a literal angel.
His heartbeat picked up, knocking against his ribs like a desperate escape attempt. He took a slow breath, trying to will himself into composure. Thirty minutes. He could survive that. Probably.
She exhaled, an amused lilt in her voice as she broke the silence. “Well… guess we’re stuck together.”
Shinichiro scrambled for a response, something smooth, something cool, but all that came out was a strangled, “Y-yeah.”
A small pause. Then, lightly, “You okay?”
He nodded way too fast. “Yeah! Totally. Fine. Super fine.” God. Kill me now.
The elevator remained steeped in thick silence, broken only by the faint hum of the machinery and the occasional creak of metal settling into stillness. Shinichiro stood frozen, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, as if grounding himself could stop the absurd pounding in his chest.
She shifted slightly beside him, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and in that instant, Shinichiro felt as if his heart was about to burst straight out of his eyes. Heat crawled up his neck, and he yanked his gaze away so fast he might’ve given himself whiplash.
It was embarrassing. Excruciating. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, he wanted this moment to stretch on forever. If time could slow down, if seconds could turn into hours, he wouldn’t have minded one bit.
She exhaled softly, then, with an easy sort of confidence that only made his awkwardness worse, she turned slightly toward him.
“So…” her voice, smooth yet teasing, cut through the air between them. “Are we just going to spend the next thirty minutes standing here in complete silence?”
Shinichiro’s brain, ever unreliable in moments like this, scrambled for a response. “Uh… I mean… I don’t mind silence?”
Her lips curved into a small smile, and he nearly keeled over. “Fair enough,” she mused. “But since we’re stuck here, might as well introduce ourselves, right?” She tilted her head slightly, expectant. Shinichiro, very aware that there was no escape, cleared his throat. “Uh… I’m Shinichiro, Sano Shinichiro.”
“Shinichiro,” she echoed, as if testing the name. “Nice to meet you, Shinichiro. I’m…” She gave her name, but he barely processed it over the ringing in his ears. He nodded stiffly, gripping the edge of his jacket as if it might save him. There was a pause before she spoke again, this time with a softer tone. “So… do you have any siblings?”
That caught him off guard. “Uh, yeah. I have a little brother.”
Her eyes brightened with interest. “Really? Me too.”
Shinichiro blinked. “You do?”
She nodded. “Mhm. And let me guess, you have to deal with all the ‘big sibling’ responsibilities, right?” A small, breathy laugh escaped her. “Being the eldest is tough. You’re supposed to be responsible, be the ‘example,’ but all it really means is covering for them when they get into trouble, right?”
Shinichiro chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“I swear, younger siblings have no idea how much we do for them.” She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “But I guess that’s the job.”
Shinichiro nodded, unsure how to contribute without sounding like a complete idiot. “Uh… yeah. Definitely.”
She laughed again, and it wasn’t mocking: it was warm, lighthearted, like she found his awkwardness amusing rather than off-putting. That somehow made it even worse. The conversation meandered, moving from siblings to school, to work, to whatever small thing came to mind. Shinichiro remained hopelessly awkward, tripping over words, stammering, nodding too much. But she never seemed bothered by it. If anything, she kept leading the conversation, making it easy to follow, like she was pulling him into a current he didn’t mind getting swept away by.
Somewhere along the way, the tension in his shoulders eased just a little. He was still a mess, but at least he was a mess who was talking.
Ahh…A single laugh. That was all it took.
Light and effortless, her laughter rose in the confined space, weaving itself into the very air he breathed. It wasn’t loud or exaggerated, but something about it carried warmth. A sound that sent a heat from another language rising in his body, spreading slow and steady, like the glow of city lights flickering to life at dusk. Shinichiro swallowed hard, gripping the inside of his jacket as if that could ground him. But it was useless. He was already floating, already untethered. It was ridiculous, really, how a voice, a moment, could turn an ordinary elevator ride into something else entirely.
Please, let us be the only ones here forever.
The thought whispered through his mind before he could stop it. His gaze fixed on the flickering numbers above the doors, tracking the steady ascent, yet a part of him wished for the floors to stretch into infinity. For the world outside to pause. For the clockwork precision of time to falter, just this once. He wanted to stay here. 
Suspended between where he had been and where he was going. Between the faint hum of machinery and the rhythmic cadence of her breath beside him. Between the overwhelming awkwardness tightening his throat and the quiet, terrifying realization that he didn’t mind this. That, somehow, he didn’t want to be anywhere else. In this fleeting moment, he existed nowhere but here. Not in the past, not in the future. Just here.
In weightlessness.
A sudden jolt snapped Shinichiro out of his trance, the elevator humming back to life beneath his feet. The numbers above flickered, the mechanical whir of gears filling the space that, just moments ago, had felt frozen in time. And just like that, the spell was broken. He barely had time to process the disappointment settling in his chest before the doors slid open with a smooth chime, revealing the dimly lit hallway of the seventh floor. Reality rushed back in, sharp and unrelenting, reminding him exactly why he was here in the first place. The brat.
His mood soured instantly as his gaze locked onto the familiar figure standing just outside an apartment door, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he hadn’t just been out causing trouble the night before. Shinichiro inhaled sharply, already running through the words he’d planned: firm, scolding, maybe even a little threatening. But just as he was about to step forward, a movement beside him caught his attention.
She walked past him, her steps unhurried, casual, like she belonged here. His confusion deepened when the boy looked up, and instead of shrinking back like a guilty kid caught in the act, his face lit up.
“Took you long enough, sis!” The boy’s whine was unmistakable.
Wait.
Shinichiro’s brain stalled.
Wait. Wait. WAIT.
Sis? The woman? Her? She was his older sister? Shinichiro’s carefully crafted speech disintegrated on the spot. Whatever righteous anger he’d been about to unleash evaporated into nothing, replaced by a single, horrifying realization.
He couldn’t make a scene. Not in front of her. Oh, he was so screwed.
Still standing just outside the elevator, Shinichiro willed himself to move, to say something but instead, his feet stayed planted as his thoughts ran in frantic circles. The kid, oblivious to his internal crisis, grumbled something about how long she took and how he was starving. She reached out, ruffling his hair with practiced ease before turning back toward the elevator. Shinichiro swore his soul left his body when she met his gaze again, smiling lightly. “Guess this is your stop too, huh?”
He nodded stiffly, stepping out onto the floor as if the ground might disappear beneath him. “Yeah… uh… I—” He cleared his throat, praying his voice wouldn’t betray him. “I was actually looking for… him.” He motioned vaguely toward the boy, who had already pulled out some video game, not even paying attention. She raised a curious brow. “Oh? You two know each other?”
Shinichiro hesitated. “Something like that.”
A pause. Then, before he could completely self-destruct, she laughed softly, tilting her head. “Well, guess that means we’ll be seeing each other again.”
His brain short-circuited. Somewhere in the distance, angels were probably singing.
He barely managed to respond, but she didn’t seem to mind. She turned back toward the apartment, knocking twice before glancing back over her shoulder one last time. “See you around, Shinichiro.”
And then she was gone, disappearing inside with the kid, leaving him standing there, heart hammering, mind racing. Well. At least now he had an excuse to see her again. And next time?Next time, he’d be ready.
Mfs will post Shin fanfics during KOKO'd birthday and call themselves FANS.
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