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mrskokushibo · 3 months

Text

BEG !!!

Kokushibo x fem!reader

Summary: Upper Moon One is your lover, and you wronged him.... He is angry and you deserve what is coming to you... Are you scared yet?

Warnings: MDNI, NSFW, smut, mentions of cheating (fem partner cheats on Koku with a certain rainbow-eyed blond demon), rough sex, rough anal, rough oral, dub-con, mild degradation, sex as punishment (for his partner cheating on him).

Masterlist

Footsteps echoed in the large hallway. It was him. In just a moment he would enter the chamber. You longed for him, craved him. The knot in your underbelly was now pressing unbearably, all you wanted was to feel his thick length inside you.

But today was different, there was also the terrible lump in your throat, fighting for your attention. What you did was wrong, so terribly wrong… But then again, Kokushibo promised to be back within a week. Weeks went by with no news other than the occasional report that came to Muzan, passed on to you.

And then there was the party, to welcome the young, new upper moon. He was tall with the most perfect physique. His hair was long and almost white and then those sparkling eyes….in all colours of the rainbow. His charisma and charm were overwhelming. In such stark contrast to the dirt, he whispered in your ear by the end of the evening. You could not resist, could anyone? If it was not so wrong it would have been worth it, he was beyond experienced too. The memory of the things he did to you made you blush even now, even though the fear of your approaching lover was gripping you in an ever-tightening vice.

Kokushibo entered the room, without a word put aside his katana, and walked up to you, his eyes glaring at you with a look you have never seen before. You should have fallen to the ground, begged for forgiveness, and apologise, but as silly and stunned as you were, you simply stood up and smiled awkwardly.

``Welcome back, Kokushibo-sama´´.

You felt so uneasy and stupid, but it was now too late to correct this behaviour. Because without uttering a word, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, claws digging into the delicate skin, and pushed you down to the ground, until you were where you should have been from the start: on your knees.

His lip twitched slightly, and he bared his fangs in a condescending grin.

`You betrayed me, whore. I thought you were better than to fuck around while I am away. You will pay for this and by the end of it you will be begging me to stop´´.

The look in his eyes was growing more and more terrifying. There was lust, but also something cold and cruel, you only saw this once before… when he was fighting his enemies. A shiver ran down your spine.

`´Is he really going to kill me? ´´ you thought.

Sure, he spared the young upper moon, but only because Muzan intervened. The youngster was obviously valuable to him. This angered Kokushibo even more than your betrayal. But why would he spare you? You were replaceable, only made his lover because of your looks and charm. He could have anyone he pleased… He could now smell your fear, it surged through his senses like a powerful stimulant, it was awakening his aggression and sending it to new heightened levels.

``Do you think I am going to kill you, hm? That would be too easy on you. I still want you around to please me. So no, I shall spare your life, but after tonight you will learn your place´´.

In complete silence, he untied his hakama and revealed his enormous member, already erect, with precum dripping down the shaft. Normally, you would start your usual routine of sucking and licking, but this time you did not even have time to react before his hand twisted your hair in a tight grip and yanked your head forward toward his cock.

``Open your mouth´´ he commanded in a voice so hoarse and deep that despite the overwhelming fear, you felt your juices run down your thigh.

Like a puppet you obeyed and with one brutal move, he shoved the entire length of his cock into your throat. He groaned and started pumping at a relentless tempo. His spare hand was now gripping your throat, while the other was holding a firm grip on the back of your head with your hair tied around his thick wrist. You could barely breathe now, being basically on the verge of fainting. You were seeing stars but for all the wrong reasons. Eventually, you felt his cock grow and within seconds he came deep inside your throat, his orgasm accompanied by a powerful thrust. He kept on pumping, letting all his seed come out properly until pulling out. You slumped on the ground like a ragdoll. Spit and semen dropped out of your ruined mouth.

Without a word, he grabbed you under one of your arms and dragged you to the futon. With ease, possessing such unearthly strength, he tossed you onto the mattress. You were now on your back with him towering over you. With one quick move, he ripped your clothes off exposing your naked body to the beast that he was quickly turning into.

He then removed his kimono. As always, you gasped at the sight of his magnificent, perfectly toned strong body. His black hair clinging to his sweaty chest in unruly locks.

His long, sinewy, and clawed fingers started to trace your folds, spreading them and rubbing slightly. You were wet and needy. A moan left your lips when he parted your folds fully and pressed one of his fingers against your clit. His movement was lewd and lazy. He positioned himself between your legs and in an unkind manner kicked them to the side to make more room for himself. Once again, without a warning, he thrust his cock inside you with one quick move. This time it was your cunt he started abusing. The initial pain quickly dissipated into indescribable pleasure as his full length and girth were hitting all the right spots. Your moans were growing louder, but just as you were nearing your release, he pulled out.

``Do you think I am here to please you, bitch? Do you?´´

He almost hissed into your ear, his weight crushing you under him and leaving you gasping for air. His lips traced down your neck, bared fangs grazing along, leaving marks.

He raised himself up to hover over you and his eyes grew darker. He grinned as he lifted himself off you completely, he was now kneeling between your legs. Very quickly, his huge arms, wrapped around your ass and waist flipped you on your belly. He moved closer to you spreading your legs with his rough hips and thighs. You were aching to come, to make love to him, to feel pleasure, but you did not even dare to think the thought anymore.

``Please, Master, I am so sorry, I really did not mean…´´.

You could not finish your sentence because a large hand firmly covered your mouth.

``Shut up! You will speak when I tell you to speak´´ he growled.

He was now rubbing his hard cock on your folds, only to coat himself with your juices. Once he thought the lubrication was sufficient (for him, but not for you), he stretched your ass with one hand and positioned the tip of his cock on your asshole.

You were truly terrified, `` he would not, would he? `` Sure, the two of you had the occasional anal sex, but he was always gentle, there was sufficient foreplay and extra lubricant. But this? This meant one thing: pain. And the pain you would receive; because as roughly as he handled your mouth and cunt, he now did the same to your ass.

The scream that left your lips was animalistic to say the least. The pain was agonising, but your reaction only seemed to arouse him even more. He leaned down over you and sank his sharp fangs into your back, drawing blood. He was thrusting at a fast and brutal tempo, the rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin reminded more of a satanic chant than lovemaking.

The force of his thrusts was sending you forward as you tried to hold on to the sheets as best as you could. At this point, tears were rolling down your cheeks and you felt like you were sinking into a dark haze of pain and hopelessness, but also, as sick as it was:....lust.... After what felt like an eternity, he finally released himself in you. Maybe this was finally the end of it, of the punishment.. Maybe now you would get to ease your pent up desire.... But no.

He was now sitting on the futon, his legs spread, his cock already semi erect and his scarred chest glistening with sweat, all the while you were curled up on your side, marked and destroyed. The sheets were stained with cum and blood. But he didn´t let you rest.

His powerful arms pulled you up to a kneeling position in front of him. He gripped your face and moved his close to yours. He was about to kiss you. That would be a relief. But then.. you looked into his eyes and realised that the cold and cruel fire was still there. So indeed, he kissed you, but this was not a kiss of affection. It was the kiss of possessive power. His long demon tongue was deep in your throat, suffocating you and making you gag. His fangs bit your lip. He pulled away and looked at you.

``Now you will beg me for mercy, for forgiveness. You deserve everything that I am choosing to do to you.´´

He tightened his grip on you.

``So now, slut: BEG! ´´

His deep voice was teasing your insides, stirring up fear and arousal all the same.

`` I am so sorry, Master. I have been stupid, ungrateful. I know that I do not deserve your mercy, but I beg you to stop the punishment, to stop my suffering. I will do anything. Please Master, I beg you for your mercy``.

The look in his eyes softened slightly, the cold rage subsiding, but the savage lust-filled darkness was still there, merciless and wild.

`` I accept your apology, but I´m afraid that there is only one way for you to make your apology mean something``

With one powerful movement, using only one of his arms, he shoved your head into his lap, once again growling his command

``open your mouth´´

and once again he shoved his now fully erect cock into your mouth.

``I am only getting started with you, this will be your lesson to not ever wrong me like this again´´.

And the night was only young…

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tokutaiseichan · 24 days

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B's-LOG October Issue's Tokyo Debunker Character Interview Translations

It's finally done~~~!!!! Me and @kurosagileo worked hard on it so I hope everyone can enjoy it too! Also big thanks to @tzutako for providing the raws of the interview!

Credits:

Translation: @kurosagileo (Frostheim, Vagastorm, Sinostra), @tokutaiseichan (Jabberwock, Hotarubi, Obscuary, Mortkranken) Raw Provider: @tzutako

FROSTHEIM

Jin

Incantation: Bianerus Effect: Commands have compelling power over others.

Q: What is your favorite subject? A: People who don’t understand Anomalous Information Studies have no right to talk about anomalies. That’s all.

Q: Do you have any concerns with missions? A: …. If you’re talking about the mission, contact Tohma.

Q: What’s your favorite place on campus? A: The dorm balcony. Having a smoke there is especially nice.

Q: Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A: Should I go to my vacation home in Niseko and take a nap? …. It’s not impossible. Hey Tohma, get the helicopter.

ーーーーー

Tohma

Incantation: Argeas Effect: Vibrations can be transferred to distant places through materials like walls and floors.

Q: What is your favorite subject? A: I’m very sorry, but nothing in particular. Darkwick’s subjects are a bit unique, so I can just barely keep up.

Q: What is good about your house? A: It’s thoroughly cleaned and furnished to be pleasing to the eyes. Also, the elegant Frostheim students, perhaps.

Q: Do you have any concerns with missions? A: With the assistance of a uniquely talented master and the perceptive juniors, there are no concerns at all. The captain isn’t feeling well? No, that won’t be a big deal.

Q: Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A: If I get an R&R permit approved…… let’s see. For example, how about going out to a nearby mountain and going trekking. That’s surprising? Hahaha…… Of course I mean it.

ーーーーー

Luca

Incantation: Iggnaim Effect: Invokes an invisible barrier.

Q: What is good about your dorm? A: The atmosphere is similar to my hometown and it’s comfortable. And then, the air on the premises is so clear that at night there are times when you can see the Aurora. If I’m here, I feel like my soul is in harmony with nature.

Q: Do you have any concerns with missions? A: Actually, I want to be sent on a higher ranking mission. I train every day to make that wish come true. Definitely someday…… I will be able to subjugate a demon with my hands.

Q: Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A: I want to go to a restaurant that Kaito said “All the Japanese boys like.” If I remember correctly…… it was called Jiro style ramen. Since there’s not a restaurant like this in my hometown in England, I’m really looking forward to it.

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A: From the day I transferred to this school, Kaito was my first friend and has been a really good friend to me. I’m also very grateful to Tohma for all the help. Now, all that’s left is for Jin to fulfil his duties, but….

ーーーーー

Kaito

Incantation: Unknown Effect: Unknown

Q: What is good about your house? A: Hm…… my house, on the surface, is a symbol of authority! Or that’s what’s said. Honestly, commoners like me feel out of place… they’re all always trying to get the upper hand, I can’t stand it.

Q: Do you have any concerns with missions? A: Nonono, firstly I’m concerned that the mission itself even exists!? I just want to live a peaceful and fun school life!!

Q: Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A: Um… wait a sec. I think it was featured in Men’s An’a*, but…. ah, yeah yeah! The number 1 for classic dating spots ranked…….. the Tokyo Skytree!!! [*Possibly a parody of An An magazine]

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A: Hm…… the captain and vice captain honestly feel like they live above the clouds….. Rumor has it the two of them are colluding with Darkwick, I heard they’re doing something nasty. Eh? Luca? …… I don’t know that bastard with an unrivaled face.

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VAGASTORM

Alan

Incantation: Yagsal Olbasa Effect: Specifics unknown. It seems to be a very dangerous ability.

Q: Do you have any concerns with missions? A: ……The path he chose, will it lead closer to the truth? I keep asking myself that.

Q: What’s your favorite place on campus? A: A fishing spot. Since it’s in the forest, no one usually comes there. How do you get there from the main building……? ….. I won’t know until I go back to the dorm.

Q: Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A: Mount Hotaka. Ah, it’s in the Northern Alps. It’s definitely far from here, but…… I’d take the car so it’s not a problem.

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A: We’re just some random people who obtained power by chance. But, clawing their way up like their life depends on it…… those guys have that kind of nature.

ーーーーー

Leo

Incantation: Haxs Effect: It can enhance hearing, allows far away sounds and sounds being shielded to be heard.

Q: What is your favorite subject? A: No~thing. You just have to memorize the textbooks. It’s so easy it’s boring. I had high hopes because it was supposed to be specialized study of anomalies.

Q: What’s your favorite place on campus? A: The bath. When I enrolled, there wasn’t even a bath in my dorm’s shower room. I had to use my own money to remodel. It’s honestly ridiculous, right?

Q: Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A: The club. Since I entered Darkwick, I haven’t been able to go out at all. I’m so stressed I’m gonna go insane.

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A: No matter how you look at it, Cap is a himbo. Eh~, Sho…….. he’s my slave, I guess♡

ーーーーー

Sho

Incantation: Spurno Effect: Unknown

Q: What is your favorite subject? A: Nothing really……. ah, but Anomalous Combat is still better. Since I get to move my body, it’s a good stress reliever, y’know?

Q: What is good about your house? A: What’s good about it? …… Since there’s a garage, bike maintenance is easy. That’s it.

Q: Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A: There’s a famous restaurant in Nakame that’s famous for its delicious broth. It seems like a creative Japanese restaurant. I’d like to go there once.

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A: Ah…. Leo’s the kind of guy you just can’t get rid of. How should I put it… we’ve just been hanging out together for some reason since middle school. Mido-senpai…… I never know what he’s thinking. That guy, he’s the type that doesn’t have enough words, right?

ーーーーー

JABBERWOCK

Haru

Incantation: Bahnti Effect: Can freely reduce gravity effects on his own body.

Q. What is good about your house? A. You can feel healed and refreshed by numerous adorable anomalous animals! You'll even get a full hospitality service from Jabberwock's very own handsome ghouls!! What do you think, dearest customer? Would you like to come and try?!

Q. Do you have any concerns with missions? A. Hmm... I don't mind going for missions but there's no one to watch my kids while I'm gone. Even when I tried using an automatic feeder, the less domesticated critters just won't get used to it...

Q. Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A. That reminds me! Recently Ren told me that I "looked like someone who wanders around Don Quijote late at night." When I looked it up, apparently it's a store chain that sells various useful appliances! Now that's music to my ears~

Q. What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A. Both Ren and Towa have a nice build so I think it's better if they try to make use of it. If they make the most out of those muscles, they'll be much more reliable... Hm? This sound......... Oi, Towa! Hoooold your horses~~~~~~!!

ーーーーー

Towa

Incantation: Unknown Effect: Unknown

Q. Do you have any concerns with missions? A. ~~~~? ~~~~!

Q. What’s your favorite place on campus? A. ~~~~𝅘𝅥𝅮

Q. Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A. ~~~~~~~~𝅘𝅥𝅮

Q. What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A. ~~~~𝅘𝅥𝅮 ~~~~!!

ーーーーー

Ren

Incantation: Raothtas Effect: Specifics unknown. According to Ren himself, it's a rather useless power.

Q. What is good about your house? A. Nothing. It smells... and it’s gross too... I'm the one who wants to ask if there's anything good to say about this sorry excuse of a dorm.

Q. What’s your favorite place on campus? A. At Darkwick, the only place where I can just lounge freely and do my own thing is my room... Well, it's nothing out of the ordinary; I'm just playing some mobile games and watching some movies...

Q. Do you have any concerns with missions? A. I have a lot: Sagara is being too loud, Sagara is being too pushy, and Sagara is being too. Damn. Loud.

Q. Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A. Anywhere as long as that clown isn't there is great...... Oh, right. There's also this movie theatre in Shinjuku called Musashinokan. I want to go there... Huh? I'm going alone of course. Isn't that obvious.....

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SINOSTRA

Taiga

Incantation: Malab Effect: Unknown

Q: What is good about your house? A: Ah~? It’s getting money out of greedy small fry customers and unskilled dealers, isn’t it? Gyahaha!

Q: Do you have any concerns with missions? A: Whenever I go on one, I get hungry right away…

Q: Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A: Macao.

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A: Lulu gets so angry every day, I could never get bored of it~ …… Ah~? Shinjo? Who the fuck is that?

ーーーーー

Romeo

Incantation: Tiris Effect: Can turn objects into bombs.

Q: What is good about your house? A: This casino that can barely keep running has no good points. At best, it’s just a place to make a little money

Q: Do you have any concerns with missions? A: Hmph, that WTWUT, isn’t it obvious!? Wall to wall useless trash!

Q: Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A: When I have some free time, I want to go to South Korea. Ha……. if I don't earn more, there won’t be enough funds for that………..

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A: I’m fed up with my boss. No matter how often I say the same thing, it’s a WOE. Ha? “Waste” “of” “effort” obviously. Then, as for Shinjo, I’ll be giving him a thorough education from now on, and we’ll see how he turns out.

ーーーーー

Ritsu

Incantation: Acimo Effect: His body becomes as hard as steel and heavier.

Q: What is your favorite subject? A: There’s something to learn from every subject, but my best subject is, of course, Anomalous Law. Instead of the basic Six Codes, the subject deals with special cases, like how the Anomalous Investigation Institute and Darkwick regulations handle legal proceedings surrounding anomalies.

Q: What’s your favorite place on campus? A: There’s no location in particular, but the restaurant on campus called the Mystery Diner is a good choice. Since it is always deserted, it is a good location for client meetings.

Q: Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A: If I get permission to go out, I would like to go to the opera. Before entering this school, I often went to the New National Theatre in Tokyo with my mother. Bizet’s “Carmen” is recommended for beginners. Do you understand French?

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A: I have come to the conclusion that it is futile to try to change the violent behavior of the captain, Taiga Hoshibami, as well as the vice captain, Romeo Scorpius Lucci. From now on, I will defend them and certainly win the Laurel Crown.

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HOTARUBI

Subaru

Incantation: Talnandio Effect: It's said to be a power that allows him to communicate with the "Tsukumogami" that resides in objects, but...?

Q. What's your favorite subject? A. Favorite subject... I guess you could say I like Anomalous Biology the most. Professor Hyde's lectures are always so interesting, I can't help but to be all ears whenever he talks...

Q. What’s your favorite place on campus? A. Lately I've been enjoying my lunch at the second floor terrace of the main school building. It's an easier place to stay for me compared to the ever-crowded cafeteria.

Q. Do you have any concerns with missions? A. Hotarubi normally doesn't really have many chances to go through difficult missions so I don't really... Oh, but if I must say, perhaps I rely too much on Haku... I feel awful for being such an undependable captain.

Q. Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A. Shibuya...... I suppose? I've been living all my life in Tokyo but the truth is, I've never been there. Not even once. O-oh, no! Please don't mind me! I really just mean that I hope I'll get the chance to go some day......! I'm… not too good with crowds.

ーーーーー

Haku

Incantation: Unknown Effect: Unknown

Q: What is good about your house? A. Let's see... It feels humid everyday thanks to the rain and the building is so old that it’s probably on the brink of collapsing. Haha... I guess it's always easier to complain, huh. Despite everything, this place does give me a sense of tranquillity. Perhaps because the atmosphere is similar to my family's home.

Q. What’s your favorite place on campus? A. Can I choose a place from our dorm? Then I'd recommend the open-air porch of our guest room. Enjoying a cup of hot tea while your eyes feast on Hotarubi's esteemed garden一it's one of a kind experience.

Q. Do you have any concerns with missions? A. I don't really have any particular complaints... scratch that. There's one. Our dorm is a little understaffed. Well, I guess there are some who can help out—but asking them would be a little troublesome. We already have someone who can keep this place lively, you see.

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A. Another difficult question, huh. Let's see... Subaru is a very capable leader. His only flaw is that he always tries to carry everything by himself. As for Zenji... how do I say this... being around him cheers me up. I'm grateful to him for that.

ーーーーー

Zenji

Incantation: Unknown Effect: Unknown

Q: What is good about your house? A. I'm so glad you asked! As a matter of fact, our esteemed Hotarubi house is an ensemble of chic, peaceful, and artistic boys and girls!

Q. Do you have any concerns with missions? A. Uh-hmm? Let's see... Concerns, concerns... if I must say something then I suppose it's how Haku seems to like working all by himself? Oh, but it won't be a problem! I'll simply put more work to help him...... from the shadows, that is.

Q. Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A. Of course! Immediately to the left side as you start ascending Natsume-zaka from the Waseda intersection一there, proudly stands a black granite monument inscribed with the words "The Birthplace of Soseki Natsume"... It's my dream to be able to touch that monument.

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A. If I were to describe Subaru as anything then... he's someone with a heart of glass... On the contrary, I can't help but notice Haku's tactless conduct. He ought to learn to be more mindful if he's going to call himself my manager.

ーーーーー

OBSCUARY

Edward

Incantation: Unknown Effect: Unknown

Q: What is good about your house? A. There are a lot. For starters, it's far removed from the boisterous campus and nobody dares to interfere with these grounds. But the best part is how there's no sunlight. I'm a vampire, you see. So a dorm that is always engulfed in night time is a comfortable place for me to live in.

Q. What’s your favorite place on campus? A. My own room would be the best place, after all. I can watch Youtube anytime and the Nishikawa bed that Rui picked is exceptionally cozy. What do you think? Would you like to try sleeping on it with me?

Q. Do you have any concerns with missions? A. I have no such concerns since I don't go on missions. Cough cough..... Aah, pardon me. The cold I caught last month still hasn't gone away, you see. Will it be okay to excuse myself soon?

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A. I'm envious of how those two are so young and full of energy. When I was around their age, I....... oh dearie me. It's quite an old tale so I have completely forgotten about it.

ーーーーー

Rui

Incantation: Unknown Effect: By blowing a kiss, he can send a wave of energy with anesthetic effect一temporarily relieving pain and fatigue of the target.

Q. What's your favorite subject? A. Ehh~~~? I haven't been going to classes though~~~...... I don't even remember what subjects they’re teaching here. I try not to go to the campus building as much as possible, after all.

Q: What is good about your house? A. Most of the room interiors are hand picked by yours truly so I can recommend all of them~.... Ah! But only cute girls are allowed to stay the night!

Q. Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A. Hmm~.......... If I can go out without worrying about curfew then I'd like to go shopping at Daikanyama and then go home after enjoying a pleasant meal at Yebisu Garden Place Tower~☆ Well, I can't really go out into crowded places though, so everything is just a pipe dream! Ahaha!

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A. It's such a pain how Ed barely has any life skills to save himself. I'm practically nursing him at this point......... As for Lyca~..... Huh? That one is pretty much like taking care of a kid.... Oh, c'mon! What do they take me for?!

ーーーーー

Lyca

Incantation: Ramsochisa Effect: Allows him to know the location of his target and follows them no matter where they go一provided that he recognize their scent beforehand.

Q. What's your favorite subject? A. Hmm.... I don't really understand but everything is so fun!

Q. Do you have any concerns with missions? A. I told everyone that I'm fine doing missions on my own but they keep worrying about me.

Q. Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A. .... I want to see Neros. I still don't know where he is though...

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A. Exactly what I call them: a Moth-Eaten Casanova and a Blond Gigolo. I'm a human too so why won't they put me in the same house as Suba and his friends?!

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MORTKRANKEN

Yuri

Incantation: Agnihaet Effect: Hyperstimulates his brain cells so that it allows him to solve complex calculations and logically process informations in a matter of seconds.

Q: What is good about your house? A. Hmph! Other than the fact that it houses this genius doctor, Yuri Isami, do you really think there’s any other redeeming qualities about this house… No, about Darkwick at all?! Of course not!

Q. Do you have any concerns with missions? A. Thanks to all those brute germs from other houses destroying each and every anomaly, I never have enough specimens to use for my experiments!

Q. Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A. Now that we’re talking about it, it’s almost time for me to buy clothes for the next season. Where am I going to buy them? Why, at the Nihombashi Takashimaya Shopping Center of course!!

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A. Are you referring to Jiro, assistant and patient to the genius Yuri Isami? Well, he still needs a lot of training, you see. He lacks knowledge, skills, experiences, and education. That is to say, he’s 100 years too early to become a doctor of my caliber.

ーーーーー

Jiro

Incantation: Unknown Effect: Unknown

Q. What's your favorite subject? A. Anomalous Medicine, I suppose. But since I specialize in infectious disease, I usually research papers and materials that aren't included in the curriculum on my own.

Q. Do you have any concerns with missions? A. If I were told about the mission schedule in advance, I can prepare to increase my medication dosage from the day before. Oh, but everything will be fine as long as Yuri is there to give me immediate treatment if something happens.

Q. Where would you like to go if you have your R&R permit approved? A. Nowhere in particular. Or rather, I don't really know where I should go.

Q: What do you think about the ghoul(s) in your house? A. Okay... The only other ghoul is Yuri, though. He's my attending doctor. If it wasn't for Yuri, I may be as good as dead now. I feel grateful to him, to put it simply.

#tokyo debunker #tkdb info #tkdb ref #b's-log magazine #b's-log translations #my translations #Partially!!!

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daistea · 4 months

Note

If you ever have the time, would you ever feel like taking a request with mithrun x an elf reader who's been taking care of him for a while? I've been thinking that they'd know of each other pre-demon, but weren't well acquainted (different circles, and reader is more introverted (like misril)) at the time until post-demon where they help nurse him to health and mayhaps join the canaries as a healer/support for the group.

If that's too specific, that's fine! You can take liberties.

If youre like "yeah that plain just won't happen with mithrun/hes not like that", that's fine! You don't need to write it if you don't want to

I don't want to force you or anything; it's just something that's been floating in my mind, recently!

Of course my friend! You asked so nicely <3

I think I’ll use she/her pronouns for the reader with this one if that’s cool!

Sooooo I’m assuming Mithrun was one of the Wardens in his squad. I don’t recall if it ever mentioned if he was in the first squad or the second. If it’s the second, then Milsiril might’ve been the Vice-Captain of his specific squad at the time, and Mithrun was her second in command like Pattadol is to him now. Cus u know Pattadol is second in command because she’s nobility, and Mithrun is nobility.. Yadda yadda. Let’s just go with that for simplicity’s sake. And since there’s only two Wardens to a squad, I’ve taken the liberty of making the reader a criminal, but it’s for something stupid like… jaywalking lol. Jaywalking using black magic. Or uh maybe using black magic to heal. Both? Two criminal charges, you rebel you

anywho..

tw suicide, mental illness, self harm, blood

Dungeon Meshi Spoilers ahead!

4500ish words

"Vignettes of a 40 Year Old Desire" - Mithrun x elf/healer female reader

●・○・●・○・●

Getting started was the hardest part.

You took a deep breath, your hands hovering over the wound. The slice in Mithrun’s arm was clean, with no brutal ridges. It would scar, but it would be a straight, neat white line on his skin when it was over. Even Mithrun’s wounds were perfect.

“Are you okay?” He asked. His voice was soft, and it reminded you of warm blankets on winter days. Your eyes flickered up to meet his and he offered a smile.

“Yeah,” you said. You sat beside him with your legs curled up beneath you. He sat with his legs criss-crossed, casual as if his bicep hadn’t just been nearly sliced open by the sword of a living armor. He had to be in pain, it was a deep wound. You’d managed to stop the excessive bleeding, but the paleness of his cheeks betrayed that he was feeling weak.

Still, starting was the hardest part.

You summoned your stores of mana, connecting to the spirits that made up the world. They were all around you, willing to obey, willing to lay upon Mithrun’s wound and graft his skin back together. A soft light glowed from beneath your palm as you ran your fingers around the edges of the wound. You weren’t sure why getting started was difficult for you, perhaps it was the feeling of magic pulsing through your veins that startled you, or the very fact that you had the ability to defy nature in this way. And there was that little bell that rang in the back of your mind, that urge to go further, deeper, darker.

That damn bell and its ringing had gotten your ears clipped.

You pulled back from Mithrun, letting your hands drop into your lap. “Done,” was all you said.

He blinked in surprise, then lifted his arm to inspect the spot where he’d been sliced. There was a faint scar, but it would probably fade if he got some sun. His lips twitched into a frown at the sight, but that expression immediately died, pushed aside and replaced with a smile. Mithrun didn’t need the sun, actually, he carried enough shine in his smiles…. Is what someone stupid would say.

“Thank you,” his voice was soft, polite. He pushed down the sleeve of his canary uniform and rolled his shoulders. Nearby, the rest of the team was setting up camp for the night. They laughed and passed around a wineskin. There was a spot on the ground between two of your peers, saved for Mithrun. Milsiril was a distance away with her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. She had a sewing needle that she meticulously threaded through the body of a ragdoll.

You expected Mithrun to stand up and cross the room to join the others. Yet, he didn’t. He stared at you, two silver eyes filled with curiosity. You returned the look and raised a brow as if to silently ask what he needed.

Finally, Mithrun offered a slightly bashful smile, “You don’t really socialize much, do you? Oh,” he perked up, eyes widening, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, of course. I mean, you’re shy, right? I just don’t know that much about you.”

And that drove him mad.

You were entirely too aware of Mithrun’s true nature. The others were too busy basking in his light, caught up in his orbit, trapped in his web. Even Milsiril deigned to notice. She could’ve if she wanted, she simply didn’t want to— it would be like looking in the sun, and once you got past the blinding light and actually looked, you would already be burnt.

You saw the looks on his face when nobody was looking. You didn’t mean to see them, you didn’t mean to stare, but it had become a habit to watch his reactions. There was a flicker of irritation in his eyes sometimes, the hint of a frown when someone didn’t play his game exactly how he planned. There were moments when his shoulders would tense and his smile would turn tight. There were moments he’d avoid answering questions about himself and turn the subject around on the inquirer to keep his history and feelings and thoughts hidden behind a very sturdy, well-guarded wall.

You were more interested in him than you’d like to admit. You’d drawn several conclusions: Mithrun genuinely enjoyed the company of others, but he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t help but scowl when they weren’t looking and judge their decisions and look down on everything they said and did. He even did it to you.

Which was precisely why you avoided him for the most part. You didn’t want him to know more about you, to provide more ammunition so he could reload his weapon and fire it straight into your back.

So, all you had to say was, “Yeah, we don’t really talk much.” And you smiled as innocently as you could before standing up and wandering to a corner near Milsiril.

Mithrun’s eyes lingered on your back. He was probably making that face he made when displeased that his charm didn’t work; analytical, a hint of darkness, one could practically see the red-inked assumptions scribbling onto parchment in his head, destined to be filed under a wildly critical and exaggerated category and kept there until the end of time.

You only wished you understood why he was like that.

Mithrun disappeared without warning. The squad had been dispatched to the Central Observation Tower because yet another person had disappeared in the area. Mithrun offered to take his friend’s scouting duty into a dark tunnel because she was afraid of spiders and was convinced that there were millions of them in that specific dark tunnel. Milsiril offered to send you along with him, but at that time you were trying to heal a sprained ankle of another squad member. Mithrun waved a dismissive hand and smiled, “It’s no problem. I’ll be fine on my own, but thanks!”

That was the last you saw of him.

Milsiril had someone slumped on her arm. She held them up, breathing heavily and covered in dirt and blood and dirty blood. You rushed toward the scene. The person had silver hair caked with quickly drying streaks of red. His head lolled. But he was breathing. Thank goodness, he was breathing.

Milsiril gently laid Mithrun on the ground. Immediately, you sat beside him, your hands on his cheeks and forcing open his eyes— eye. Singular. The right one was a mess. There was no time to question that, though. You summoned a light spell and opened his eyelid and black irises greeted you. Weren’t his eyes silver before? It was dim, too. Yet, his chest moved up and down and his heart was still beating. You let go of his face and he closed his eyes again, head lolling to the side as he let out a soft exhale.

“So, this is where he’s been?” You asked Milsiril.

She nodded, “He became the dungeon lord. This place…” she glanced up at the twisted walls and long corridors that led to nowhere. There were monster corpses nearby. So many monsters, strong ones, weird ones with horrific teeth and eyes. “It’s a representation of him. I never knew…”

You knew, sort of. You just didn’t think it would get to this level. You didn’t think he’d fall to the demon. You didn’t think—

There was no time for thinking. You had to get started on healing him. For once, getting started wasn’t so hard, not when your heart raced, not when you were desperate for someone to live.

When Mithrun was conscious again, you offered your hand to help him stand.

He didn’t take it.

Of one thing you were certain: Mithrun of the house of Kerensil had no desire to live.

“You should’ve let me die.”

You perked up at the sound of his voice. It was the first time Mithrun had spoken in perhaps a month, and his vocal cords betrayed that fact. His voice was scratchy with disuse, and it was a struggle for him to speak. As you glanced over your shoulder to look at him, he didn’t bother meeting your eyes. His gaze was on the window near his bed, but he wasn’t looking at anything, not really.

“I should’ve let you die?” You echoed. You could hear the anger in your own voice. Mithrun didn’t care, you knew.

He simply nodded. A lock of silver fell over his bony shoulder. His collarbones were too pronounced. The sight made a fire start in your chest.

“Mithrun?” You asked.

He turned his head to look at you. One eye, as black as an endless pit, landed on your face. The other was covered by bandages.

And he waited. He didn’t actually care about what you had to say, you knew. But you had to say it.

“Don’t ever say those words to me again.”

Mithrun only stared, “Alright.”

Then he returned his attention to the window that he was not looking out of.

You don’t know when or why you started to care so much.

You’d always cared about people. You’d always wanted to help. But you didn’t even really like Mithrun before the dungeon incident. Now, his recovery was all you could focus on. And you were absolutely obsessed with the state of things.

“I don’t know what to do,” his brother whispered, desperate, “I’ve hired so many caretakers but they just don’t do anything for him. I mean, they do things, but he’s not getting any better.”

Someone had to break the news to him. “I don’t think anything we do is going to make him any better.”

“I want him to be better,” his brother furrowed his brows and took a deep breath.

You wanted the same. But for now, all you could do was keep Mithrun alive. As long as he ate and slept and breathed, that was good enough for now. That was all he could manage.

You visited the Kerensil family home more often these days. You weren’t sure why, but you cared. When he screamed at night and scratched himself to the point of bleeding, you healed him without a word. When he got ahold of a kitchen knife and put it to his throat, you wrestled it away from him, then helped his brother install locks on all the cabinets and drawers. When Mithrun snuck out at night to go slaughter every goat within a 50 mile radius, you cleaned the blood from his hair and hands.

You’d basically moved in. The captain had given you permission to dedicate time to Mithrun’s healing, since they would’ve liked to have him join again once he was better. To the other Canaries, this was part of your sentence. To you, this was part of your purpose.

You and Mithrun talked a lot. You talked the most. He stayed quiet, so you weren’t sure if you could consider it as actually holding a conversation. You weren’t sure if he was even listening. But once, when you were softly explaining the importance of getting rune shapes exactly right, you stopped and stared at your hands. You’d begun to enter dark territory, the study of black magic that had brought you to this place in life.

The silence stretched on for a minute or two before Mithrun tilted his head. His hair was splayed out on his pillow and his good eye was open, blinking, slightly alert.

“Continue,” he said.

So you continued. And he stared at the ceiling. And you knew that he was listening. He didn’t care, of course, but he was listening.

One night, Mithrun nearly hit a vital organ with a piece of glass from the bathroom mirror that he’d shattered.

You healed it, the light from your hands growing brighter than usual. Your shoulders were tense and you couldn’t help but scowl and growl and mutter.

Mithrun just looked at you, “You know this isn’t what I want.”

“I don’t care,” you answered immediately.

He grit his teeth, “I don’t want to live.”

“I want you to live!” You exploded. He flinched backward, but no emotion passed over his face. He simply stared. You gulped down your feelings and continued healing him.

Maybe that was selfish of you. You didn’t care.

Milsiril was a mother. Milsiril was a caretaker. Milsiril was a toymaker and she knew how to wind them up and set them on the path again.

“I’m ready to go back into the dungeon,” Mithrun said. His voice was still scratchy, but he was sitting up on his bed for once. He’d gained a few pounds and his shoulders weren’t sharp as knives anymore.

Milsiril only shook her head, “Not yet, I’m sorry.”

Mithrun looked at you as if he expected you to ally with him. You knew him the best, you knew what he wanted in life. You even knew what his secret desire was, the one he couldn’t admit to himself.

You shook your head as well, “You’re still underweight and you haven’t quite gotten the hang of taking care of yourself yet.”

Mithrun’s expression only darkened, “Then let’s keep practicing.”

Where Milsiril was more concerned with making Mithrun socially acceptable enough to rejoin society, you were much more concerned about his living conditions, health, and dignity. It was a relief that he’d stopped trying to pick the locks on the knife drawer. It was not a relief that Mithrun was planning for his inevitable death against the demon— not that he’d admit that.

He wanted different things now. No longer was his goal to die from withering away, but rather to die at the hands of the god who once served him. Still, it involved him dying. There was this feeling you had inside, comparable to the feeling you had when you were first being hunted by the Canaries. You knew it was inevitable that they would find you and jail you or make you join them. Anticipation rose in your chest until it finally burst when they tied up your wrists and clipped your ears.

Now, anticipation was rising again. It had been rising for the last twenty or so years that you’d spent at Mithrun’s side. You could only wonder when it would burst, and when you’d end up as scraps on the floor like the shreds of a popped balloon. You could only wonder.

When Mithrun rejoined the Canaries, you went with him. He said nothing about that. You were the one who cut his hair shorter for functionality reasons. You were the one who delivered his new uniform and made sure it fit. You were the one who sat on his back as he did push ups for training— which was actually the most fun with him you’d had in the last twenty years. It was kind of silly, but it was good to see him willing to do things like exercise and challenge himself, even if his end goal was just to reach the demon.

There was a lot of teasing involved when you two returned to the Canaries.

“Are you in love with him or something?” Helki asked behind his hand. He cast a glance at Mithrun, who was sitting nearby and silently staring out the window.

You made a face, “With Mithrun? No. I love him, but not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He snorted, “You’ve been like his little wife for the last few decades.”

“I don’t think I would consider all that as wife-like,” you retorted.

“Why do you do it, then?”

Was it truly so impossible for someone to comprehend caring for another individual without expecting something in return? Or not having a motive? You supposed there was a motive, but it wasn’t romance. You just… cared. You wanted him to stay alive and get better. And he was relatively better, now. Relatively.

You patted Helki’s shoulder, “Because he’s my friend. Nothing more.”

You didn’t notice, but Mithrun’s head tilted. He always listened to you, even when you didn’t think so.

“Can you help her?” Flamela jutted a thumb toward where you and Mithrun sat. Her voice, louder than everybody else’s in the Canary’s headquarters, caught your attention. Mithrun kept his arms crossed and his gaze on the recruits training outside.

Cithis blinked in surprise. Her eyes landed on you and you returned the look with a hesitant smile.

“It’s a lot to explain,” Flamela continued, “but Captain Mithrun needs help and [name] needs a break.”

Your brows furrowed. You hadn’t expressed needing a break before. You were fine. You liked taking care of Mithrun. Yet before you could protest, Flamela was already walking away. And Cithis stood there with her hands folded and her eyes curious, analyzing.

Dread settled into your chest.

“You’re not some helpless baby, Mithrun,” you didn’t mean to yell, nor pace, nor gesture so wildly with your hands, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re not a dog, not a slave, not someone who can be exploited for entertainment! You’re a person and you deserve respect!”

Mithrun only raised a brow, “So, you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you snapped, sounding quite mad at him. Yet you pulled yourself together and took a deep breath, “No, Mithrun, I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault. I just wish people saw you as more than what you’re going through. You’re the damn Captain of the Canaries now, you’ve risen above some really tough shit and you’re capable and strong and—”

Lord.

The realization hit you like a slap to the face.

You froze, mouth hanging open, eyes on Mithrun. He only stared, as he tended to do, waiting for you to say something. But you couldn’t. You’d been slapped in the face by reality and now everything ached.

“I’ve got to go,” you managed to squeak out before running toward the door. You left his bedroom behind and darted down the hallway of the Canaries Headquarters. You shared a room with a few other criminals, but they weren’t there when you burst inside and collapsed onto your bed. You were in your late 100’s yet there you were, screaming into your pillow like a 60 year old.

You’re in love.

“I’m in love,” you said out loud, which you immediately regretted because that made things real.

You’re in love. You’re in love. You’re in love and it hurts so much because Mithrun could never love you back. Were you a masochist? Probably. Your heart hurt. You suddenly understood the concept of heartbreak, it felt as if your heart was about to physically fall apart. Realizing that you’re in love should be a happy moment. It shouldn’t hurt so much.

Alright, you decided. You’re going to ignore it like an adult. You’re going to take this secret to the grave.

Captain Mithrun’s team was a mess.

But they were fun.

“Hey,” Lycion elbowed you one night at the dinner table. He leaned down to whisper while you were mid-bite of a piece of chicken. “Do you think the Captain would let me check out the fighting scene on that island? Like, we could put off the whole negotiations thing for a day so I can go see it?”

Mithrun personally wouldn’t care, you knew, but he would refuse Lycion’s request for the sake of getting into the dungeon faster. You swallowed your food and sent him a glance, “Why’re you asking me? Pattadol’s the one that does all the decision stuff with Mithru— the Captain.”

“But you know him best.”

True enough. Still, you were just the healer, still a criminal sentenced to another 40 or so years of Canary service. You sent Lycion an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I don’t think he would.”

“Can you ask him?” Lycion used that purring voice he always utilized on certain targets unwilling to obey.

You remained unaffected, “I don’t see why you think me asking him would make a difference.”

“The Captain would do anything you asked!” He explained, “Within reason, of course. You’re his girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you forced the satisfaction down. “I’m not his girl. And he pretty much does whatever anyone tells him to do as long as it doesn’t interfere with his goals, so I’m not any different.”

“You’re blind,” Lycion muttered, “so blind.”

Mithrun had been pulled into the stupid pit thing or whatever with that stupid Kabru guy. You were going to pull your hair out.

When he reunited with the Canaries, he actually looked rather well-taken care of. You begrudgingly admitted that Kabru may not be as stupid as you thought, but you couldn’t let go of your anger at the entire situation. You still wanted to pull your hair out, mostly because you were resisting the urge to wrap your arms around the Captain and squeeze until your bodies melted together.

Mithrun noticed your stress and slowly approached you. He patted your head, “I’m fine,” he said.

He could be shot in the chest and he’d still claim to be fine.

“When this is all over,” you managed to say through the fog of anger and worry and adoration and fury, “we’re taking a holiday. We’ll go to the Eastern Archipelago and we’re sitting on the beach and we’re going to do very safe things like build sandcastles or take naps.”

Mithrun looked down at you. He stared, as was his tendency. Then he raised both brows and you thought that just for a second, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. An affectionate smile. Perhaps it was hopeful thinking, an illusion brought forth by stress. You weren’t sure.

His hand that was on your head slowly ran down the side of your cheek and to your chin, lifting your face so you’d look at him. He didn’t hold you for long, though, letting his arm drop to his side when he had your attention. “When we have time, I will go where you go,” he said.

You wanted to smack him in his stupid beautiful face for being so sweet. What was wrong with him? Was he in a good mood? You could only narrow your eyes in suspicion.

Of course, Mithrun walked away after that, back to the mission at hand. Yet his words echoed. I will go where you go.

That was more like something you would say to him. You’ve made the decision to be at his side for the last 40 years. You would follow him to the ends of the earth.

Surely, he didn’t mean it.

But then again, Mithrun wasn’t in the habit of lying unless it served his purpose. And he wouldn’t lie to you, of all people. Surely not.

The demon was gone and Mithrun had lost his purpose in life.

How scary, you thought. How terrifying to lose your one reason for living. You’d most likely be on the ground, slumped up against a tree and expecting to wither away just like him. But unlike you, Mithrun had people who cared for him, who wouldn’t accept that fate for him, who loved him.

Senshi and Kabru said their pieces. The Canaries all agreed with a chorus of encouragement and opinions and friendship.

You offered your hand, like you always did, like you’d been doing for the last four decades.

He took it.

Mithrun placed his hand in yours. And the anticipation bubble that had been building in your chest for so long finally popped. But you were okay. It was okay. He was okay.

Mithrun pardoned you, surprisingly. You told him that wasn’t necessary and that he should use his pardon on someone else who had a longer sentence. There were only 40 years left for you. Surely they wouldn’t be as long as the last 40 years had been.

“No, it's you I want,” Mithrun said rather casually, “you’re staying with me in Melini.”

He wanted something. He wanted you.

You forced yourself to stay upright, “Alright. If you insist.”

Living with Mithrun in this state was very different. It was fun, heartbreaking, difficult, easy, calm, chaotic. Some days, he laid in bed and stared at the wall. Other days, he made noodles and walked through the forest and sat on the beach with you, doing very safe things like building sandcastles and taking naps. Many people in town assumed you two were married. You always corrected them, Mithrun never did.

He observed monsters and would need healing sometimes. You would push up the sleeve of his tunic and trace your fingers along old scars, none of them perfect. Then, heal him, as you tend to do.

“Are you sure you want this?” Mithrun asked one day.

You looked up to meet his eyes. Ink black, your favorite color. “What?”

“You can spend your life any way you want now,” he explained, his voice flat, “you’re free. I’m not your burden anymore.”

Your heart clenched in your chest. “You have never been a burden to me.”

“I used to hate you for keeping me alive.”

“I know.”

“And you never hated me?”

“I sometimes did,” you admitted softly, fingers tracing over his skin. You recalled this certain scar, from a pair of scissors you wrestled out of his hands at two in the morning years ago. “But it was the kind of hate that only stems from love.”

“You have always treated me like a human,” Mithrun murmured. His free hand went to your chin and lifted your face, “Like someone that deserves to live. You loved me despite my inability to give you anything in return. But I’m able now,” he leaned closer, “so allow me this.”

Damn. That had to be the first time you’d ever heard Mithrun say anything like tha—

He was kissing you.

It took you a moment to realize what was happening. His lips were on yours and your heart felt as if it might explode. Your hands shook as you raised them, eventually finding their way to his hair. That felt right. This was right. He deepened the kiss, slowly pushing forward. It was slow and careful and calm. It held so many words that neither of you were able to say. As he gently ran his hand up your thigh and to your hips, you couldn’t help but shiver.

40 years of longing accumulated into this moment. In a dark house in a new kingdom in a demon-free world, you started something new, and for once it wasn’t difficult at all.

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emptyultimatum · 2 months

Text

LOUDER

Avenger AU Loki x fem!reader In which Loki is injured and also a horned out mess.

Loki collapsed onto the bed, pouting up at her. “Love, please—”

She laughed at his puppy face, pulling on the straps of her uniform. “Stop making that face, my god.”

“Please, darling, I can’t take this much longer,” he begged, longing to see that delectably lush body again. “You’re driving me insane.”

She grinned, doing a little twirl. “You’re injured, you know you can’t do anything without reopening the stitches. And there will be questions if we have to ask Cap to stitch you up. Again.”

“I am a god,” Loki growled, glaring at the deep, ragged scars on his chest. “I am immortality incarnate, I am the god of mischief, of vice and malice, and I will not be bested by this— this—”

“Loki, you were stabbed with a godkiller,” she said, serious now. “I know you’re not used to recovery, but trust me when I say you don’t want to reopen that wound.”

He grit his teeth and hissed. “Then stop tempting me, you witch.”

Instantly, something electric-hot sparked in her gaze.

She crawled onto the bed, her hips swaying as she moved over his body, her scent enveloping him. She slid her hand up his chest, caressing his neck, gripping his chin. Loki groaned, his body yearning up into her, his hands clutching the back of her shirt. She brought her lips to his, breath hot and promising—

“Behave,” she whispered.

Loki yelled, burying his head in her neck. She giggled as he muttered, “You demon, you foul quim, you dastardly, beastly, monstrous tease.”

She ran her hand through his hair, tugging the ends just to see him whimper. “You know I like it when you call me names. Now I mean it. You can’t do anything too… active.”

That snakelike glimmer shot through his irises, the glint of a good idea. “I can’t, this is true. But you can.”

She hummed. “But you’d have to do a hell of a lot of begging to convince me.”

He pulled away from her neck, scoffing. “I do not beg. I am a god. No mortal woman has ever merited—”

She gently caressed his face, his cheek, sliding down to his neck. Her fingers closed around him, holding him, collaring him. Not hard, nor even firm, but simply holding him.

She saw the break in his eyes, the instant submission creeping into his very being: those silver eyes softening, his brow easing, his hands gently holding her body. Loki looked up at her, the picture of submission, his lips parted and his body soft beneath hers.

“Please, love,” he whispered.

Oh, how his tune had changed. So quickly, too.

She smirked, and he felt it to the very core, the shock of butterflies erupting in his stomach.

“Louder,” she commanded.

And he complied.

#loki #loki is an avenger #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki smut #smut-ish #loki odison x reader #loki x y/n #sub loki #dom reader #fem reader #begging #loki begging

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starvine · 2 years

Text

☾ ⋆* kiss it better

pairing: neteyam sully x fem!omaticaya reader

genre: fluff, angst

synopsis: all you wanted to do was serve your people. however, when you get injured, your mission is cut short. neteyam insists upon patching you up and decides to explain his concerns for your well-being and future together.

warnings: battle stuff, guns, blood, battle injuries, medical jargon, stitches, minor swearing (?), allusions to mating/sex ig, aged-up neteyam

word count: 7.9k

notes: IT’S HERE! i’m very excited to have started writing again, and although i’m very casual about when i write, i hope to be somewhat consistent lol. enjoy this for now, i have more planned for the future! i hope you all enjoy, pls reblog/comment/etc if you feel so inclined <33

The air was tense today, thick with disciplined focus as you keep your ears alert for any incoming airships. Reeking of smoke and burning metal, a scent that is foreign and unpleasant to your nose, you remain aware of everything and anything. Gray clouds billowing and a pungent smell that cling to the back of your throat like a hand with a vice grip—nothing was natural.

Tilting your forehead forward, you hope your visor, decorated with teeth and interwoven pieces, will shield your eyes from the wind. You hold your bow tightly, the wood smooth against your fingers as you use your other hand to guide your ikran swiftly through the air.

“Calm, calm,” you soothe her, tapping your fingers along her strong neck.

You’re anxious today. Not because of the imminent arrival of the Sky People, their ships ready to fire metal bullets at you at any second; you’ve dealt with that many times before. No, the reason you’re nervous is because of Neteyam.

Today is Neteyam’s first day participating in the raid—well, his first raid on the ground with his father’s permission—rather than being a part of the aerial surveillance team. You tried to insist that you should accompany him, but, due to his wishes, you remained in the air beside his mother.

“Do you see anything yet?” Neytiri’s voice asks over the intercom.

Bringing your fingers to your throat to press the responding button, you reply, “Nothing yet.”

“I’m going to fly down to help gather some of the gear. You stay here,” she orders, raising her bow to signal that she and her ikran were descending.

“Let us know if you spot any bogeys. We’ve got some heavy-duty gear and need as much time as possible,” Jake informs you over the intercom.

“Roger that, sir,” you say, steering your ikran closer to where the enemy would most likely be approaching.

Ears twitching back and forth, you attempt to pick up the whir of an aircraft amongst the orders commanded, the creaks and minor explosions occurring from the Meg-Lev train your people have intercepted, and the wind blowing past you. You hope that maybe you could track a scent, sniffing the air a couple of times to no avail. It’s all smoke and metal. The skies were calm, except for your ikran’s screeching, however, they couldn’t be for long. There was no way those demons would allow your people to escape that easily.

“Hey,” Neteyam breathes over the intercom, a slight huff of your name. You could hear the smile on his face. “How’re things looking up there?”

“What happened to using my code name?” you question, peering over your ikran in an attempt to find him along the ground. “I’ll tell you if I see anything. I know how to do my job, you know.”

“Just double checking,”

You scoff, guiding your ikran to the right. “Maybe you should focus on gathering all of the gear instead,”

“Oh, really? Maybe you should-”

Suddenly, your ears flex forward, focused on the faint whirring of something mechanical and man-made; something that was not naturally occurring within your world.

“Airships spotted! Everyone, move!” you shout over the intercom. You yelp out into the open air, pumping your bow in tandem with the three shouts you release to alert your fellow brothers and sisters in battle.

Just as people begin clambering for their ikrans and direhorses, the two Scorpions start firing. The relentless pop of military guns fills your ears, causing your tail to swish frantically and your ears to perk forward.

Using a high pitch, you signal for your ikran to dive, swooping up and under the two fighter pilots.

“Do not engage! I repeat, do not engage! I want minimal casualties today,” Jake commands over the intercom, the background full of shouts and grunts.

“Jake, I’ve got to take out these two airships. They’re already taking down ikrans,” you spoke, peering up at the airships as you stealthily soar below.

Just then, Neteyam responds.

“No! Listen to my father, do not engage. I can lead the people to safety,”

“There won’t be any people to lead if I don’t take these airships down.”

Neteyam groans your name in warning, the sound of shouts heard from all around. “Would you listen for once?”

Jake barks your name, frustrated and frantic. “Get out of there! Get back to the High Camp!” he orders. You begin mapping out the plan of your attack. “That is a direct order!”

“I’m sorry, Jake,” you respond, ignoring all that comes after.

Your ikran shoots straight up into the air, coming close to the tail-end of the Scorpion gunship. You arch over the top of the gunship, upside down and looping over to the front side. The sun high in the sky and its beams creating a glare on the glass makes it difficult for you to spot the pilot. Upon finding his location, you draw the string of your bow taught, ready to fire.

“Incoming! Enemy on-”

You shriek upon release. The arrow flies straight through the glass, nailing your target right in the chest.

The gunship begins to tilt forward, preparing for its decline. As a hunter and warrior, it was your duty to pay respects to the creatures you killed in order to sustain the way of life. Kneeling over them, declaring your thanks, and wishing for their safe return to rest amongst the Great Mother was a sacred practice. However, as the gunship crashed and blew up in flames, hot and angry, you felt no thanks or remorse. They did not deserve to rest peacefully, and they didn’t even deserve to die on the Great Mother’s sacred soil. Their spirits deserved to walk alone, isolated and cold from the warm glow of the afterlife.

“You skxawng! What the hell are you doing?” Neteyam screams.

Looking around, you see the green back of his ikran, its rider perched on top with no visible concerns except for the fury etched on his face.

“I got this! It’s just one more,” you insist, positioning an arrow on your bow, eyeing the last gunship.

“May the Great Mother help you when I knock-” and with that, he’s easily ignored.

The wind whips past you, high and soft, almost like a whisper from Eywa that she too felt the tensions of battle. You would do anything to soothe her pain. She could not endure the suffering of this war much longer.

Tightening your grip on your ikran, her blues providing a stark contrast to the grayness of the military equipment, you attack from the rear yet again. Guns firing, you duck, placing yourself as flat as you can get against her back. However, once you approach the opening of the ship, where all of the massive guns were placed, you sit up, firing quickly.

The scream and weak grunt you heard confirms that it was a successful hit. Loading your bow with another arrow, you soar underneath the aircraft, looping around until you have the high ground. Securing your aim, your fingers release the string until the arrow flies straight into one of the Scorpion's propellers. A small explosion soon turned into a large one, the ship dipping to its left and falling from its dominant space in the sky to the dirt.

However, so were you.

You must’ve underestimated how close you were to the ship, your eagerness to protect your people and the Great Mother clouded your judgment.

The sound and burst of light, as well as the force, must’ve spooked your companion as she, too, seemed to have lost her place in the sky. She tumbles towards the ground, shrieks and roars released into the open air. Jaw clenched, you tried to convince her to gain control to no avail.

“Come on!” you shout, knuckles turning a pale blue with the tight grip you had.

As you neared the ground, panic began to set in. Your ears lay flat against your head in an attempt to not become overwhelmed by the wind, you tried to think quickly.

You could stay with your ikran, but you would both get injured; you could also disconnect from her and leap from the group, in hopes of only injuring yourself.

Deciding on the latter, you had one plea for the Great Mother:

“Please don’t let Neteyam kill me.”

Disconnecting your kuru, you leap the rest of the way to the ground, the shock of the force of your fall causing you to fall instead of landing perfectly on your feet. The ship crashes a couple of yards in front of you, the force of the blast propelling you forward.

Rolling and skidding along the dirt, pieces of gravel and discarded glass and metal tear at your skin. Red begins to bubble up along the surface, the violent opposite of your blue skin.

Tumbling down a hill, you lose your grip on your bow, the wood being left behind in your trail. The burning sensation of your flesh being scraped away keeps you alert, blindly clutching at anything to break your fall.

Eventually, you slow to a stop, landing on your stomach with a mouthful of dirt. Spitting and coughing up the soil, you take a minute to catch your breath. With a slight raise of your head, you look at the ship as the flames crackle and cause a film of sweat to break out on your skin. That hunk of metal was truly ugly against the backdrop of the forest.

You begin to slowly sit up, a sharp pain coming from your side. A cut, not deep enough to need stitches, slowly oozes blood down your left rib, crimson staining the skin. It looks swollen, screaming to be disinfected immediately. Reaching behind you to check for any more severe wounds, you arch away from your nimble fingers just upon a light graze. The heat from the explosion must’ve irritated the skin, causing soreness and slight bubbling in some places.

Minor scrapes along your knees and elbows from what you could see and feel, makes you thank Eywa for her protection and the benign wounds. Stumbling onto your feet, you catch sight of something unnatural.

A small piece of metal protrudes from the side of your thigh, embedded into the flesh. Staring at the shrapnel, you’re reminded that your world doesn’t just belong to you anymore. Even if the Sky People were to disappear and return back to their planet, the scientists would remain here. Their clunky gear and massive structures would continue to reside amongst the nature of Pandora.

Something about that notion makes your heart sink.

You lightly touch the silvery metal, trying to gauge how deep the foreign object must be. It felt stiff and unwilling to relent to your touch, confirming that it was not something you could brush off. Taking a step forward, a broad, aching pain festers throughout your leg. It hurt less if you put less pressure on the limb, however, that would be hard to do on your journey back to the High Camp.

Picking up your bow from the ground, arrows broken and scattered around, you slowly mount your ikran, muttering expletives to yourself at the pain that dwelled throughout your entire body.

Neteyam was surely going to kill you.

Upon your arrival, after an arduous flight back home, you slowly slid off your companion onto the uneven rock. Blood oozed out from around the metal, the object having dug deeper into the surface the more you moved. With one hand clutching your rib and another trying to steady the object, you hoped to stumble into a healing area before you were noticed by a Sully.

Turns out, you’re not as stealthy as you thought.

“She’s back! She’s back!” a high-pitched cheer sounded, a small girl bouncing towards you. Tuk’s big grin slowly faded into a look of concern and worry as she sized up your injuries. “Mom! Kiri! She’s hurt!”

The younger girl prances over to you, lifting your arms and examining your body from front to back. You feel the small girl brush against your tail, which was agitatedly flicking back and forth.

With a sigh of your name, you see Tuk’s mother and elder sister approach you, war paint still decorating Neytiri’s face in vibrant greens and yellows. She gasps upon spotting the dirt, blood, and bruising that has blossomed across your skin, tucking a stray hair behind your ear as her eyes fill with worry.

“We must get her to grandmother,” Kiri announces to her mother, clutching your upper arm as softly as she could without hurting you.

“There’s no need. I can do it myself,” you try to assure her, taking a fumbling limp forward.

“There is a piece of metal sticking out of your leg.”

You glance down, almost as if you hadn’t noticed it at all before. It was a futile attempt, especially as you used your fingers to brace the object, preventing it from moving too much. “There is?”

“Damn, bro!” Lo’ak exclaims, waltzing up beside you and trying his best to not laugh at your given failure. “Looks like someone got their ass handed to them by some Sky People,”

Hissing at him, you weakly push at his chest to show him that you weren’t interested in his jokes right now.

“Lo’ak!” his mother scolds, hitting him upside the head.

“What?! What I’d do?!”

Then, the two people you desperately wanted to avoid came into view: Neteyam and his father. Jake had a stern, militant look on his face—a facade that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Neteyam’s face was set into a deep frown, a look that was a delicate cross between his mother’s and father’s disappointed faces.

“Well, would you look at the time? Looks like I better start tending to-” you attempt to walk away, only to be kept in place by Neytiri’s firm hand on your shoulder. It’s not like you’d be able to escape them as quickly or swiftly as you would typically be able to. You–apparently–had a piece of metal sticking out of your leg.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Jake scolds still dressed head to toe in his fusion of Omaticaya and Sky military gear. “Disobeying direct orders? That isn’t something I expected from you.”

Casting your eyes downwards, you hope your flat ears and limp tail would get you out of this scolding quicker than it would’ve if he was scolding Neteyam or Lo’ak. Typically, avoiding his gaze would show that you felt regret—which, in this case, you didn’t really—and he’d let you move on. However, it’s hard to keep your eyes fixed on the ground when someone gets into your line of view.

Neteyam crouches down, face coming into view as if he’s trying to catch your fake performance. Instead, he places two hands, worn and calloused from all of the years of fighting and defending his people, onto your cheeks. He tilts your face upwards so he can view you from his natural height, allowing him to view each scrape and bruise in proper lighting. His lips twitch into a grimace, thumbs grazing over a small cut that must be on your cheek because, although there’s a faint sting, there’s no leaking blood.

Now, everyone knew about you and Neteyam. It’s not like it was kept a secret. Wherever you went, he followed; whatever he was doing, you were right there beside him. In the years to come, you would become his mate and that was an unspoken decision between you and him. Well, there was also an unspoken rule between Neteyam and the rest of the boys his age to not even glance at you, or else he’d have their tails. However, no matter how much people smiled softly whenever you’d exchange fond glances or spare looks when you two ran off alone, it wasn’t like you publicly displayed much physical affection. Nonetheless in front of his parents.

He unloops your visor from behind your ears, handing it to his brother without his gaze leaving your face. As soon as his hands leave you, they return just as quickly. His fingers smooth over your face, confirming that you’re breathing and here in front of him—something he’s very grateful for. Your stupidity—not so much.

“You’re such a skxawng,” he chides, tilting your face towards his.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. It’s not like I’m the one who took down—not one—but two whole- ow!” you yelp, stumbling forward towards the young man.

Tuk looks at you guiltily, one finger outstretched as if she was prodding at something.

Kiri steps forward, pushing Tuktirey out of the way in order to re-examine your back.

“We should take her to grandmother,” she insists, “now.”

You roll your eyes, trying to continue with your act of not being nearly as injured as you appear, but the longer you stand, the more it becomes not true. As the adrenaline wears off, the soreness and incessant throbbing grow throughout your muscles and bones. Your rib and leg are still oozing blood, warm and tacky against your skin. Neteyam loops an arm around you, careful to avoid the blisters and welts that decorate various places on your back.

His free hand reaches for the hand that hangs limply over his shoulder, intertwining your fingers and giving them a light squeeze. “It’ll all be okay,”

“Yeah, I know. Just ‘cause I’m walking a bit funny doesn’t mean I’m dying,”

You could say that then, but you sure as hell can’t say that now.

If there was one thing about Mo’at, it was that she couldn’t care less if her remedies stung like a bitch as long as they cured you thoroughly. So now, as she smears a paste along your back—the sensation as bitter and frigid as the Northernmost part of any mountain—that bites at your skin, you kind of wish you were dead. Or at least knocked out.

This isn’t even the worst of it.

Once the stinging fades more into a relaxing cool, Mo’at instructs you to lean backward so she can assess your torso. The older woman crouches next to you, hands hovering over the wound as if Eywa was sending her a direct message on the best way to heal you. Neteyam sits on the other side of you, clutching your hand with a grip that seems more like it’s to reassure him than you, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face.

Neytiri stays close to her mother, observing or advising what she believes to be the next course of action—just as a tsakarem should do. Kiri stays by your feet, grinding and mashing up various plants and syrups that could be used to aid with disinfecting your wounds. Lo’ak and his father stay near the door, ready to leave if someone else should need assistance with anything to do with the war effort. However, as everyone stays well within their place, performing their necessary task, Tuk couldn’t seem to sit still.

“Is she going to need stitches?” Tuk asks, peering over her eldest brother.

Neteyam removes his hand from your hair, slightly readjusting the younger’s weight so she doesn’t put too much pressure on him, in turn, putting pressure on you.

The Tsahìk doesn’t look up from your wound, eyes brightening as if Eywa had finally delivered her guidance to the woman. “No, she will just need to rest. I would advise very minimal movement for at least seven days,” the woman says, being handed a bowl of yellowish sap.

“Seven days? But I need to be out there, it’s my duty to fight,” you plead, growing restless and inching upwards.

Neteyam pushes you back down, delicate but firm fingers pressing against your sternum. “Down,” he murmurs.

“It is not my fault you did not listen to orders,” the older woman retorts, using a brush-like leaf to observe the consistency of the paste before lowering it toward your injury.

“Yeah, well it’s not my fault that I just happened to save- oh, Great Mother! Holy sh-” you yelp upon Mo’at contact.

Neteyam presses a hand over your mouth, sending you a stern glare. “Not in front of the Tsahìk,” he hushes, palm warm against your lips.

You groan against his hand, face twisting and back arching in pain. Unlike the gel thinly spread across your back, there was no relief from this paste. Mo’at continued to slather it all across your skin, insisting that the more you move, the more it will hurt. You squeeze Neteyam’s hand, feeling the bones shift with how strong your grip is. If you’re hurting him, you can’t tell. The look of pain on his face seems to be linked to his feelings about your injuries, your pain. Always the doting lover.

Once Mo’at wraps the injury, using both Na’vi and human medical wraps, she places a palm over the injury, thanking the Great Mother. Then, she looks at your leg.

Your leg was held down by Kiri throughout the excursion, as she didn’t want the shrapnel to lodge itself deeper into the skin and muscle. At the base of your leg, a piece of twine is firmly wrapped around the skin to lightly restrict blood flow. The skin was not pinched, nor did you lose feeling in your leg as you would’ve if the twine was used as a makeshift tourniquet, however, your thigh still resisted against the band.

You haven’t cried yet, however, just with her eyes boring into your leg you feel as if you’re about to sob.

“Please don’t take it out. I don’t- I don’t want to have to do this anymore,” you begin to blubber, looking at Neteyam as you try to sit up.

“Shh, shh,” he placates, stroking your cheek. “It’s okay. I’m here, I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“I’ve been hurting this whole time,” you groan, “what the hell have you been-”

Then, the last two people you want to see walk into the room: Norm and Max.

“I grabbed them as soon as I heard,” says Spider, following close behind.

“No. No, no, no. Get the hell away from me,” you say, instantly shooting up and trying your best to scoot away, even as Kiri still holds down your leg.

Neteyam says your name so sweetly, so full of fondness that a chill is sent up your spine—a chill that isn’t caused by the cooling medicine or a shock of pain. “He’s here to help.”

“I don’t want him here,” you spit, speaking Na’vi to the boy sitting beside you.

“We have no choice,” he reasons, his voice dropping an octave. “They will be much quicker with their equipment than with ours. I promise that my grandmother will heal and treat you, but we need their help to make sure that there’s no extra damage that is beyond what the eye can see.”

You shake your head, refusing to listen to him and averting your gaze.

His lithe fingers reach for your chin, turning you back towards him. There he goes again; always making you feel like the blushing fool, especially in front of his family.

“I will not let them hurt you.”

What a fucking liar.

Taking a team of three women plus Norm to hold your leg down, Max begins to lower his tweezers toward the piece of metal. With the first tug, you begin screaming. The pressure and the resistance between Max’s tweezers and the artificial shard against your tender skin and muscle caused your free leg to kick, hands tightening at your sides and clinging onto Neteyam. The fact that your whole body was tense, each muscle spasming, probably didn’t help what was already a difficult procedure.

“Damn, she’s strong,” Norm comments, adding more pressure in an attempt to hold your leg down. “Spider, help us out.”

You continue to sob, reaching for Neteyam to claw at his shoulder. If you’re hurting him or breaking skin, he doesn’t tell you. Instead, he cradles you as you cry against his leg. Ripping your hand from his, you squeeze his leg, nose pressed against his thigh to hide your face. There’s no guarantee that half of the clan hasn’t heard you by now, nor that a few people have poked their heads in to see who the hell was screaming so damn loud. You were well known. There’s no way anybody wouldn’t recognize that it was you who was being surgically tortured. However, if you could save some dignity by hiding yourself against Neteyam, you would do just that.

“I’m never letting them near my body again,” you weep, gripping tight to the blue skin beneath you.

Neteyam rakes his fingers through your hair, hands petting any inch of skin that has brought you comfort over the years. He knows you like the back of his hands. Playing with your hair puts you to sleep, rubbing his thumb across your cheek makes you keen, following the slope of your nose makes you smile, and touching your ear makes you quiet. Using this knowledge, Neteyam’s hands roam to any expanse of skin that he can reach. He must look mad, with busy fingers and frantic eyes, but he can’t help himself. His chest hurts when he sees you like this, and if he needs to kill someone to make you feel better, he’d gladly do that.

“It’s almost out. We’re almost done,” he assures you in a soft tone, getting close to your ear.

Your ears, which have been laying flat and folding over periodically finally perk up and away from your skull—a sense of relief. It’s quick-lived before they fall back against your hair, but he sees it as a small win.

“Can you dress it for me?” you plea, voice breaking painfully.

Who is he to deny you?

“All done!” Max cheers, placing the flat piece of shrapnel into an emesis basin.

The clang of the metal against metal causes you to abruptly sit up. Neteyam’s hand is on your shoulder, but for the first time, it’s not to push you back down. He lets you take your time viewing the sizable gash in your leg, an injury that without a doubt needs extra aid. You whimper at the sight, not necessarily at the pain, but because you knew what this means: you would be under strict supervision at the battle scene. You couldn’t be trusted to be alone, especially as you were a great friend of the Sully’s and Neteyam’s prospective mate.

Falling back into Neteyam, the cries you let out are softer but still cause your body to shake. Neteyam rubs his cheek against yours when you hide your face in his neck, tears causing the blue skin to become slick and tacky. He readjusts your top which has moved around during all of your painful squirming, protecting your modesty. The beads land softly against your shoulder, arms holding you snuggly against him. He tucks your hair behind your ear, giving him a view of the ear that is decorated with various pieces of Omaticaya jewelry. An orange bead, delicately dangling from your lobe, was a gift from him.

“It makes me feel wiser during battle,” you told him once before sending an arrow straight through the eye of a fish that swam around in the pond.

He touches it lightly, reminding you that everything is alright.

“No! She’s going to need stitches!” Tuk whimpers, a frown deeply set on her face. Even through your crying, Neteyam catches the faintest hint of a smile.

Mo’at begins to drip water over the wound, clearing away any blood that may have leaked down your leg despite the twine restricting your blood flow.

It’s silent besides Max, Norm, and Jake’s mumbling outside of the tent as Mo’at preps a needle and thread. Kiri, Neytiri, and Spider have since released your leg, observing you and the Tsahìk. Just as Mo’at blesses the needle and thread, Neteyam speaks up.

“I’ll do it.”

Mo’at looks at her grandson, her gaze strong but understanding. The white bone needle stays pinched between her two fingers, amber eyes unwavering.

“Neteyam, let your grandmother-“

“I said I’ll do it.” he hushes, lip curling in order to hide a scowl.

His mother looks at her own, a non-verbal communication occurring between their stares. Eventually, Neytiri acquiesces, standing up and taking a step away from you.

Mo’at hands him the needle, placing a worn but beautiful hand on your leg.

“Return here tomorrow so I can check on the wound,” she orders. You nod, eyes still teary before the older woman stands with her daughter, ready to move on to the other warriors who need their assistance.

Once his mother and grandmother leave, Neteyam grows restless.

“Everyone out, please.”

Kiri scoffs at him, still seated by your feet. “You can‘t be serious,”

“Out! Get out!” he hisses, fangs bared at his sister and the human boy beside her. “You have done nothing!”

“I wouldn’t call holding down her leg for nothing. I’ll have bruises for the next week,” Spider dismisses, standing up with Lo’ak, who is already headed towards the exit.

“Out!” he shouts one final time, his siblings leaving as his tail flicks back and forth with irritation.

It isn’t until they’re gone, that Neteyam leaves your right side, scrambling and pouncing over you in order to come in contact with your left leg.

The tent is silent as he begins his work. The process doesn’t hurt much, a gentle prick or pinch here and there; you’re not sure whether it’s because your nerves are shot and can’t detect pain anymore or because Neteyam is good at his work. It could be both. Before you know it, the wound is closed and a row of sutures stares back at you in a familiar Na’vi sewing pattern. The skin is even, nothing too uncomfortable, and although there’s bruising, it appears to be that everything will be okay.

You reach out to touch the stitches with a shaky hand, only to be slapped away. “Uh uh, don’t touch,” he tuts, eyes focused and mouth slightly ajar in concentration.

He grabs under your knee, bending it at the joint in order to prop it up so he can place a bandage over the sutures.

“To protect them,” he informs you, wrapping the gauze around your thigh.

He’s very quiet throughout, a reaction you were not expecting. Neteyam has always been logical, methodical; he never steps out of line or does something rash unless it’s for the means of protecting those he loves. Always quick to action, he’s usually the first to help and the first to reprimand someone (usually Lo’ak) for their stupidity. That would be the typical reaction. However, now he looked almost forlorn.

Once he’s done, he fully stands for the first time since you entered the tent. He begins to rummage through his grandmother’s remedies that sit in wooden jars and crystal vials, concoctions she’s mastered after years and years of being the Tsahìk. After selecting a small wooden bowl filled with clear oil, he grabs another bowl of water and a rag and sits down in front of you. Dabbing the rag in the bowl of water, he lifts the dripping cloth toward your face.

“What are you doing?”

He looks at you, eyes narrowing briefly before they return to their normal, large position.

“Your face is filthy.”

He gently holds your chin, tilting it up towards him so he can begin wiping your face. His hold is steady but his eyes look nerved, almost as if he has too much on his mind to bear. His breathing matches yours, and he dodges your gaze although his entire being crowds your line of sight. There’s no way for him to avoid you, really.

“What’s wrong?” you ask as he dips the rag and wrings out all of the water, approaching your face yet again.

“Nothing is wrong,” he replies curtly, his ears twitching quickly before returning to their previous state—a telltale sign that he’s lying.

“Oh, so you’re just going to pretend like I know nothing about you now?” you try to joke, smile falling when you notice how he doesn’t reciprocate your humor. “Talk to me,” you urge, grabbing his wrist so he can’t try to distract you or himself by caring for your wounds.

He sighs, looking away before he slowly looks back at you. Holding your gaze, eyes squinting and lips pursing slightly. Neteyam looks at you like you’re supposed to understand him–and you do–but it’s as if he’s expecting you to know what’s bothering him. However, the problem is that you don’t. Once he comes to that realization, he sighs, still looking into your eyes.

“I’m upset with you.”

And there it is. Your tail swishes uneasily, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Neteyam, but he can’t bring himself to quell his emotions for your sake. He almost lost you.

“Why are you upset with me?”

He shrugs, almost as if he’s embarrassed or too shy to explain his feelings. Being the eldest son and the next heir, Neteyam often felt as if he had to hide his own inhibitions or concerns in order to be a good son, a good brother, a good leader. When it was just the two of you, you would often have to do a little extra prying in order to get him to reveal what was truly occupying that pretty little head of his. Even once he admitted it, it was even harder to get him to elaborate.

“Just drop it. You should be healing,” he dismisses, trying to distract himself by wiping your face again.

Pushing his wrist away with your fingers, you take the cloth and throw it into the bowl of water. Holding his hands on your lap, his tail swishing timidly behind him, you make him look at you by following his gaze. “I can talk and heal. The two aren’t mutually exclusive,”

“I wish they were,” he mutters, a braid swinging in front of his face.

“Hey,” you tuck the strand behind his ear. He leans towards your touch, almost as if he craves it, no matter how much he wishes he didn’t. “This isn’t how this works. You need to talk to me.”

“You’ve already been in enough pain today. I don’t want to cause anymore,”

“Quit the bullshit. I’m better now. I’ll feel worse if you don’t tell me.”

“That’s not the way it works.”

“Um, yes, it is.”

“It’s not.”

“How would you know? I can already feel my leg hurting ten times more now that you won’t communicate with me.”

“You’re not in any more pain because of me,” he scoffs, trying to escape your grasp.

“Ow, my leg! My leg!” you feign a whimper. He cracks a small smile, your cheeks spreading as smoothly as the war paint that still dons his face.

Neteyam looks so beautiful when he smiles. It’s a special smile, reserved only for you; it drips of sticky honey, so sugary that sometimes you feel as if you could fall ill from its adoration. He’s soft as he looks at you, coy and all things delightful. The hands that once tried to flee your own, now reach for your wrists, petting the skin in a pattern that speaks a million languages at once. And yet, somehow, not one of those languages can truly resemble how much he loves you. He loves you a lot.

“Please,” you whisper, “tell me what’s wrong?”

He sighs, assenting to your pleas. With one final sweep over your face, he finally indulges you.

“I’m not happy that you took down those ships.”

“Well, duh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I know that, but I want to know why.”

“You weren’t careful.”

This causes a richer scoff to form at the back of your throat, a sound that makes his ears press against his braids. “I thought we agreed to take down the enemy at any and all costs?”

“I know, and we did—we did make that agreement. I just,” he groans, trying to find the right words. Neteyam never had the right words when it came to expressing himself. “I was scared.”

“Okay,” you reply softly, shuffling closer to him. “Why were you scared?”

“Why wouldn’t I be scared?” he answers, tone mimicking the same quiet tone you used. “You’re mine—my girl, and- and they almost took what’s mine away from me.”

“God, I just got so scared that something bad would happen to you. And when I saw you hurt, how badly you were in pain, and I couldn’t do anything about it I just…” his eyes are frantic, searching all across the hut for something—anything—to provide him an answer. His hands start to tremor in your hold. “I felt helpless and so stupid. I should’ve been tougher on you, or—I don’t know—had Lo’ak or even Kiri stay with you so you didn’t have to be alone. And it’s not that I don’t think you’re incapable or anything—” he excuses, causing you to smile lightly, “—but I don’t trust them. I don‘t trust them with you.”

Smile turning watery, you reach for his shoulder, soon deciding to hold his face instead. He leans into your palm yet again, seeking the warmth that can only emanate from your hands alone. It’s the only warmth that can rid him of any chill.

Neteyam kisses your palm, soon rolling your hand over in his, placing his lips on each knuckle as if it provides him comfort. And it does. It provides him more comfort than he could care to admit. Placing your head in the crook where his neck and shoulder meet, you place a kiss on his collarbone, lowering your lips to place another on his pec, right above his heart. The young man draws in a deep breath, holding you close to him, savoring each second, each touch. Skin against skin; heart against heart.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you apologize, your soft lips grazing his blue skin. He loves the feeling. “I just wanted to protect our people.”

“I know, I know,” he murmurs against your forehead, a light kiss placed there. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t even yell,” you forgive, cheeks pillowing against his chest. When you lift yourself away from him, he tilts his head in confusion at your smirk. “Also, we both know Kiri would be awful on the battlefield.”

He chuckles, brushing his nose against yours. “True. She can’t even shoot an arrow in a straight line.”

“Exactly! I don’t know what you were thinking when you said that. Lo’ak? Sure, whatever. But Kiri?”

“I know, I know,” he agrees, voice growing softer as if his quietness will preserve this moment between you.

His eyes become velvet—smooth and warm—the longer he looks at you and it instantly makes you melt. His lips look saccharine, a buttery spread of a light smile decorating his face which is just the absolute cherry on top. If Eywa hadn’t taken you during battle, she sure as hell was going to take you now with how crazy Neteyam makes your heartbeat.

He tucks your hair behind your ear, his smile growing more and more with each expanse of skin he navigates. Dancing his fingertips over your jaw and across your cheekbones, he eventually cups your cheek and you just watch. If you breathe too hard, if you shift your weight, this moment could crumble. He’s looked at you like this many times before but it’s usually in the dark, under the bioluminescent blue and purple lights of the forest, where all you can see are the shadows of his face and the warmth of his tongue and the breeze of his breath. Now, you can see everything in pure, golden hues. The way his mouth relaxes, the way his eyes absorb all they can with each quick glance, the way the corner of his mouth tugs upwards unconsciously. You love it.

“May I kiss you?” he asks quietly, thumb swiping along a stripe on your cheek.

“Why do you ask now? You’ve done it many times before,” you wonder, eyes transfixed on the way his own mouth moves with each word he’s about to form.

He chuckles, a sweet, melodic sound, “Just wanted to make sure you’re still down even when the sun is out.”

This earns a loud laugh from you, a laugh that makes Neteyam’s heart squeeze and his lower stomach burn. He loves you. One day, he’ll say it.

Once your giggles have fizzled into a content sigh, you bite your lip lightly before you release it and it returns to its normal place. Neteyam follows the movement.

“I’m always down if it’s you.”

“Yeah?” he smiles, breathy and lips plush.

“Yeah.”

With that, he seals the deal. His kiss is soft, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dip to your mouth right before the initial contact. It makes you feel hot all over. He’s gentle—he always is at first—and he’s so, so kind. He pulls away briefly, returning not long after as if he needs to be connected to you or else he would suffer. In a way, he would.

Neteyam is sweet. He still tastes like the fruit you shared before the raid and also a little bit like blood—whether it’s from him or you, you don’t care; you’ll devour it desperately just like you want him to devour you. He traces that stripe on your cheek again, his new best friend, and follows it down the nape of your neck. His other hand trails up from the small of your back to the divot in between your shoulder blades. He uses his hand to pull you closer, seeking any contact from you that he can get.

Your hands are a barrier, shielding your chest from his, and in a way, it upsets you but also pleases you. Nobody knows what would happen if you could feel his chest pressed against yours at this moment—not even you know. Your hands glide across his chest, lighting scraping and molding against the fine muscle that hides under his smooth skin. When a lithe finger accidentally catches against a nipple, his mouth drops open pliantly, his tongue searching for yours.

“‘S scared they took my girl away from me,” he murmurs against your lips, his own following after yours after each word.

“Never,” you promise, kissing him firmly, one hand gripping his shoulder to ground yourself. All of this kissing was beginning to make you feel as if you could float away. “I’m yours. They could never take me or have me. You know that,”

“Mhm,” he hums, voice lilting towards the end as he presses his mouth to yours. It makes your back arch forward, seeking more of his skin, his touch.

His hands are growing desperate now. Neteyam knows he has to be gentle, avoiding the damaged skin on your back and remaining weary of the injuries on your rib and leg, but he so badly just wants to pull you close to him and never let go. He wants to hold you, to feel you, to be with you in every single way he can imagine so passionately. But he can’t. He will have to wait for another time.

You, on the other hand, may roam freely. Your hands travel down his chest, exploring the taught skin of his stomach. It seems he subconsciously flexes underneath your touch, something that is rather enticing. Reaching the plusher skin of his lower stomach, although there still isn’t much give, you trace the muscle gingerly, bordering right above the hem of his loincloth. The delicate touch of your fingers causes him to lightly moan into your mouth, a sound you gladly drink down just to feel its warmth in your stomach.

Neteyam pulls away suddenly, a loss you’re greatly upset about until he relocates his lips under your ear, traveling down your neck. He hums against the skin, tongue swiping against it as if he’s trying to taste as much of you as he can, as much as he’s allowed.

“You can’t touch me like that,” he says, using a hand to bring both of yours back toward his chest. You cradle his head instead, tracing a finger along his ear. It twitches.

“Why not?” you question, voice airy. Neteyam nearly preens at the sound, tail wild. “You seem to like it.”

“I do like it,” he insists, “I love it, even.”

“Then why can’t I touch you there?”

He places a wet, fervent kiss against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitches in your throat, a moan threatening to escape past your lips.

“Because,” another kiss, “You are not promised to me yet.”

“I just told you that I’m yours,” you reminded him.

“Yes,” he nods, trailing his kisses back toward your jaw. “However, you’re still not mine.”

Oh.

“I could be yours. All you have to do is ask,” you say as if it’s not something he already knows. You hold his head in place, halting his journey upwards so you can whisper in his ear: “Ask me, Neteyam.”

His tail swishes excitedly, something that makes you smile. Great Mother, you could eat him up.

“No,” he responds, pulling away and facing you head-on. He has a lovesick smile on his face, a grin that nobody could wipe off as long as you’re around. “I want to do it right.”

“Yeah?” you counter. “How would you do it?”

“Well,” he hums, kissing your lips. “First, I’d get all of your favorite foods. All of those fruits you like, season everything all nice,” he begins to slowly kiss your cheeks, “and get it all ready just for you to eat.”

“What else?”

“Then,” his kisses travel towards your ear, “Once you’re full and comfortable, we’ll go for a walk.” He bites your ear lobe and you press yourself against him. “We’ll go to our favorite spots: we’ll look at those flowers you like, go to the river, maybe swim a little. I like the way your hair looks while wet, you look so pretty,” he sighs. “You listening?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Go on.”

“Then I’d bring you to our sacred tree, just so Eywa can see us and I can see you under her light. I want to see you when I ask you. I want to see you if you smile or cry or decide that I’m not the one, I don’t care, I just want to see you,” he smiles, no longer kissing you but nudging your nose with his.

“And if you say yes—Great Mother, I hope you say yes—I promise, I’ll treat you so well. I’ll hold you the way you ask to be held, kiss you in all of the places I already know you love to be kissed, and learn all of the new places I can’t reach yet too. I want to feel you, and see the way you react. I want you to feel me, too. I want you to see me, and I want to see you,” he whispers, voicing each wish.

You nod, slowly and then desperately. “I want to see you, too,” you promise. He smiles that big, toothy smile. “Tell me when you’ll ask me? I can’t wait for much longer. I need you.”

His eyelids grow heavy, skin heating underneath your palm. “I need you, too,” he gasps, leaning forward to kiss you again. “It’ll be soon, just want you to heal for now.”

“Yeah?” you smile. “Soon?”

“Yeah,” he smiles. “Soon.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x female reader #avatar #avatar: twow #avatar: the way of water #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam sully angst #neteyam sully x reader #atwow #atwow headcanons #atwow imagines #neteyam suli x reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan x reader

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profanepurity · 1 month

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Belial is a priest, (technically) a vampire, and a demon. What a talented boy! Character Bio below the cut!

Belial is the 68th spirit recorded in The Lesser Key of Solomon. He is ranked as a king in command of 130 legions of demons and spirits. He was the second to have fallen after Lucifer, is a priest of the Cult of Bael, and is the head of Hell’s Vices as Lord of Iniquity. With Naamah, he sired the first creature to be conceived with a hunger for blood, making him the Father of Vampires. One of his titles, “Worthless One”, was given to him as a reminder that he has no place or value in Heaven. Having carved himself into a highly proficient killer, Belial’s reputation was built from blood and violence. He is a merciless and unyielding force, which is often attributed to his association with the element of earth. He demands commitment and dedication from those who work with him. Harsh consequences are placed on his devotees that fall short of this. Belial is a known sadist, yet his bloodshed is partially motivated by his desire to not only fortify his domain in Hell but also the coregency he is a part of. As a fallen Power, his need to defend the people that he cares for is above everything. For those that he is close to, Belial is incredibly patient and protective. He is very selective with who he allows into his circle, and seeing any vulnerability from him is a sign of trust.

#I might revisit his sword idk if I like it yet #but I do like Belial he is a very very good boy #the lesser key of solomon #ars goetia #belial #demon oc #demon priest #vampire #monster #monster boy #priest oc #occult #demonology #vampire oc #tw blood #vampire art #demon boy #oc art #my art

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moonbaby26 · 7 months

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Title: Basement Negotiations

(Chapter 1 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Reader/(Y/N) type: cis female marine

Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader as primary. Smoker x Reader is in the past. And Kuzan/Aokiji x Reader is there a little too.

Chapter Warnings: nonconsensual, dubious consent, language, violence, biting, blood, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving)

Chapter Synopsis: Imagine being an overly ambitious young marine under Tsuru’s command. You’ve just had a very public breakup with Smoker, and without knowing also caught the Heavenly Demon’s eye for quite a while now. But you may have finally crossed the line in interfering with the warlord’s business dealings. Either way, Doflamingo will make sure you get what you deserve today.

Chapters: 1, 2

———————————————

“You aren’t listening!” Smoker barked back at you, those two cigars pinched between his now bared teeth.

Things had unraveled here so quickly. Just minutes ago you’d been calmly following him as he’d asked to have a private word in the courtyard here at Mariejois.

For three months the two of you had been apart on assignments in different seas, and almost nightly you’d imagined finally seeing him again. You’d envisioned sharing a bed once more and doing everything you knew you had both been waiting for.

But now Smoker’s expression was practically a snarl and it just snapped something deeper within you as that final straw broke.

All the weeks that it’d been hard to get him by transponder snail, you hadn’t even worried. He was busy. You were busy. And you’d finally made the rank of captain. That next crucial step towards your own dream of becoming a vice admiral someday. You’d been riding that emotional high, just anticipating getting to celebrate together with him.

But this man who you thought would share in your pride and accomplishments the most, looked you dead in the eyes and said you had an obsession. That your desire to so rapidly climb the ranks at the expense of all else was not healthy. You were going to crash and burn, and he would no longer be a party to that.

But he hadn’t wanted to do this over snail. He’d come all this way just to tell you that the two of you were over straight to your face.

And as hotheaded as the both of you could be, the resulting argument had escalated explosively to this.

His subordinate Tashigi had dashed out, tears almost in her eyes by then as she begged for the fight to stop. You considered her a friend, but even she wasn’t enough to reason with you then as you’d landed the first solid kick against his clenched jaw.

A haki infused strike that even a logia fruit user couldn’t dissipate away from. The sound of the connect had been audible through the courtyard as he reeled back.

“He thinks I’m weak!” You called out spitefully to Tashigi as you immediately followed up to invert your body with a dive and a handspring that let your legs wrap around Smoker’s neck next before he could fly away.

Every place your bodies touched, you coated with haki in order to keep a hold of him. He tried to grab your thighs, but you still completed the maneuver to set him off balance and pull him down to the ground instead.

You wouldn’t stop fighting now until you either drew first blood or pinned him as symbolic victory. Because it drove something in you absolutely livid to be thought of as physically less than any other marine.

What he framed as caring about you, you could now only see as him not believing in your strength and ability to outlast your peers.

He didn’t know what sacrifices you’d already made. How hard it had been to claw your way up even to this point. You had worked so doggedly to be here, and you would go even higher, with or without him.

You knew you could mitigate his abilities better in close quarters. But he did knock you back enough to finally turn to smoke and take to the air.

Besides your haki though, your other weapon of choice was the rope dart you now unwrapped from your shoulder. He wasn’t out of your range yet as you infused the dagger with more of your willpower and launched it at him in the air.

You sensed his frustration mounting as well, and you knew he was about to make a mistake. You saw it so clearly in your mind that you focused on nothing else.

And that was the exact moment in which you lost the battle, as you didn’t account for the surprise attack from behind.

You did gasp aloud as your feet seized to the ground. The sudden cold felt like knives piercing all the way up your bare legs and beneath your skirt as your upper body stilled in that brief paralysis.

Your rope dart went limp on the ground as you’d stopped controlling it. You were trying to catch your breath as that unnatural cold had risen all the way up into your chest then.

“Enough sparring for this morning…don’t you think?” A new voice questioned calmly, yet still imposing enough behind you.

“You always take his side,” You muttered through an involuntary shiver. You’d completely lost feeling in your legs by the time Aokiji walked by you with his hands back in his pockets.

“Congratulations on making captain.” The admiral said sincerely. Before adding, “Tsuru said she has a new assignment for you though. I’d head fast to her office, yeah?”

You stared after him in surprise as he kept walking, but with a mix of a little dread building in you all the same. Tsuru was the last person you wanted to be scolded by right now. But this fight had all happened so fast. Could she already know?

You quickly started refocusing your haki to melt off the ice. It looked like little bits of steam coming off of your legs before you were able to stagger forward with the rest of the excess ice shattering off of you as it fell to the ground in chunks.

Smoker was possibly getting reprimanded by Aokiji next. You could see them talking now. But the two men were friends, so it was doubtful. You really only saw Tashigi still looking upset, like she wanted to say something to you. But you turned your back to them all after collecting your weapon to wrap it back around your shoulder.

When you did so, you realized just how much of an audience you’d acquired in the courtyard. Not just people all gawking on the ground level, but shadows moving in the balconies above as well. Too many to care about right now as your long marine coat flowed behind you as you stormed off.

————————————

No part of Mariejois was actually a marine base. But in cooperation with the World Government, these administrative offices and meeting areas were shared with the marines.

You moved purposefully through the familiar corridors then, only stopping briefly at the women’s restroom area to mirror check yourself.

There was no time to change. All you could do was button closed your marine coat enough to cover up how your skirt and the bottom of your shirt were still wet from the melted ice.

You then took a wet towel next to clean your face of scuffs or dirt. It wasn’t so much vanity though as it was pride. You couldn’t look too disheveled, because that would mean that Smoker really had gotten the best of you.

He had been your longest physical relationship to this point. Two years of your life to that man. And now he’d just pulled the rug out from under you as his thanks for all the effort.

And as you’d turned away from the mirror, you heard the door and two other women coming in. They were talking amongst themselves.

“And she just attacked him right out there in front of everyone!”

“What a psycho!”

By their clothing, they were just two World Government clerks, glorified coffee getters actually. Not anyone whose opinion you gave a shit about even as the color drained from their faces when they saw you.

But you didn’t have the time, just shouldering roughly past them and right back out the door.

———————————

As you entered Tsuru’s temporary office, still concerned for whatever discipline might await you there, you were only surprised to see a couple more of the crew helping her pack her things rapidly away.

“You’re leaving already, ma’am?” You asked, knowing the whole purpose of the trip here had been for the warlord meeting she was always a part of.

Even as a captain yourself now, your official post was still on her battleship. You had sailed under this woman from your very first marine recruitment actually. And for the dynamics of Tsuru’s crew, that meant she was more like a stern mother figure to you by this point.

“There’s been an incident near Amazon Lily.” She responded while sliding her notebooks into one of the bags they had. “Sengoku has asked that we go immediately and deescalate the situation to mitigate any casualties.”

It was no secret that Tsuru preferred a mostly female crew. So logically it’d make sense for you all to deal with Hancock and her Kuja Pirates if it came down to it.

“Yes, ma’am.” You answered, relieved to already have another fight to focus on really. “I’ll go to the ship now and help ready for sail then.” You had started to turn on your heel for the hallway too before she responded.

“You’re not coming with us.” The Vice Admiral cut you off.

The confusion in your eyes as you looked back must have been evident as she immediately continued.

“The warlord meeting is starting now. I need you to present that report on the war in Charybdis in my place. The World Government is still hemming and hawing about giving us the funding needed to move into that area.”

Yes, you were the one who had made the report for her in the first place. But always with the intention that it would have her authority as a vice admiral behind it when presented.

She knew you well though, and even that brief moment of silence made clear your hesitation. Of course she would have none of it. “You know the data better than anyone else. It’s your report, so make it work. Get us that funding.”

“I’m not a salesman, Tsuru-san.” You still protested. If the marines didn’t move in to turn the tide in that war soon, so many more lives were going to be lost. It was not minor politics to be played at by a novice.

“You don’t have to be a salesman. Be yourself, that’s authentic enough. They’ll believe you as long as you’re firm on it. And when it’s over, you can sail back to Marineford on Sengoku’s ship this evening.”

She shoved the report folders into your arms next, the last things that had been on her now cleared desk. “File everything of the reports in the government archive here too when done please. We may still need to reference them again later for those other things we talked about.”

“Of course,” You could only agree reflexively, knowing now she had obviously made up her mind.

And you were all walking back into the hall together soon after as they’d taken everything else that they needed.

“Good luck!” Your other crewmates offered cheerfully to you.

But it was Tsuru whose brow still furrowed as if she’d remembered one last important thing. She spoke to you quickly, but with emphasis. “The only two warlords who showed up today are Bartholomew Kuma-” Because of course he always did. “But also Donquixote Doflamingo.” Who almost never did.

And her eyes were truly serious in that moment as she warned you. “I would say Doflamingo must have a vested interest in the war as well for him to come here now. Nothing altruistic either I’m sure. You’ll be fine with Sengoku there of course. But, do not let your guard down with that pirate. He’s conniving and dangerous. You know this.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You answered again. Tsuru had been the vice admiral chasing Doflamingo from long before he had immunity as a warlord. And before he had been king of Dressrosa either. You’d been there for some of it too, all the way back from those North Blue days as a chore girl on her ship. But you knew their shared history predated even your time on her crew.

That brief look she gave you of still lingering worry was what finally made you relax slightly though. Because it wasn’t that same patronizing concern that Smoker had had.

Tsuru knew damned well what you were capable of. She didn’t try to keep too tight of a leash on you either. She had always done her best just to guide you instead. Direct the weapon instead of dismantle it.

“I’ll be fine.” You nodded at her. “I won’t be intimidated by someone like Doflamingo. It’d be an embarrassment to our crew.”

“I know. But go on then and be careful. They’ll already be starting.” She shooed you on after, before you both turned to head in your opposite directions.

————————————

And they had already started. You’d paused briefly, making sure your posture was just right and befitting of a marine before you walked in through the ornate meeting hall doors.

Vice Admiral Momonga was speaking about previous meetings’ minutes as you kept your calm even as you realized every chair seemed already occupied.

Mostly by lesser staff, World Government fodder likely here as well only for discussions about the Charybdis war. They would be your audience soon enough for this damned report.

There was at least one chair still open though as you rounded the table. And you thought you knew why. No one wanted to sit by the warlords.

But if they had to choose one, apparently they still chose Kuma. Because at this far curve of the table, it was another marine, then Kuma, then Doflamingo, the one empty chair, and then another government official.

So you didn’t have a choice as you slid silently into the empty seat beside Doflamingo and placed Tsuru’s folders on the table.

No one seemed to acknowledge your arrival. And that was fine as you were trying to discreetly reread the reports as the others kept working through their normal meeting preamble. You’d turned these reports in to Tsuru over a week ago, so the refresher was prudent.

But even as you listened while reading, there was something else that almost immediately distracted you.

The heady scent of cologne. It was odd to think that anything could smell so expensive. But it very much did as you saw movement in your peripheral vision.

You refused to look away from your paperwork though. Even as Doflamingo sank slightly down in his chair, as if he were getting more comfortable. His hands were in his pockets as he spread his knees wide open.

The warlord’s bright capris pants were then encroaching into your space to almost touch your own knees before you shifted your legs carefully away from him.

Your knees remained closed, then pointing towards the government official on the other side of you as you kept reading.

You didn’t know if anything in Doflamingo’s actions was intentional. But when he had moved, you’d smelled that cologne just minutely stronger. Affirming that the rich scent was indeed from the tall pirate.

Sengoku was speaking next. And you did finally glance up as you heard the fleet admiral mention you.

“Vice Admiral Tsuru has been unexpectedly occupied with a sudden matter concerning the Kuja pirates. Her subordinate, Captain (Y/N) will be presenting the Charybdis report in lieu of Tsuru this morning.”

And damn if every eye in the room wasn’t on you then. Though that oddly excited feeling was there as well as you realized it was the first time you’d been so publicly addressed as a captain. And there was absolutely no shame to also be noted as Tsuru’s subordinate in the same breath considering the immense respect you had for that woman.

“I do thank you for joining us on such short notice.” Sengoku continued to you, before uttering the words that really put the pressure on. “If you could please go ahead and present the report. I know you likely have work elsewhere as well.”

“Yes, sir.” You answered as a visual transponder snail was passed in your direction.

Never had you presented at this level. But you’d been in enough lower level staff meetings to know the technology as second nature when you let the snail broadcast the documents onto one of the large screens that had been brought into the room.

You’d also been taught to stand whenever giving information to those who outranked you. So you were in your element as best as you could be, pushing your chair away to stand as you just got right into it to begin speaking.

But that wasn’t the hard part either you knew. Giving the information in a digestible format was one thing. Where it really came down to it would be when the questions started. You knew all too well that Tsuru had put her trust in you to not only relay your report, but to defend it as well.

And so you talked about the contributing factors of the war, the major players in it, the casualty estimates to this point, and the destabilization that it was ever escalating in the region.

To any humanitarian, the horrors of those details alone should have warranted full marine forces to intervene and force an armistice to stem the bloodshed immediately.

But you knew the real ways the World Government worked as well. And so lastly was the thing you were most trying to “sell” if anything. Your estimates on just how much was now being lost in trade and taxes with this region because of the indefinite conflict.

You wanted the government to conclude that it’d still be cheaper to deploy the marines in what would surely be a drawn out demilitarization of the area, than it would be to just let things continue unchecked as they had been.

The only variable that you really still worried about was who exactly was feeding the weapons sales on both sides. You’d only gotten an alias out of the pirates and mercenaries you’d captured on the ground there.

There was some individual named Joker still operating out there that they were more afraid of than even your rope around their throats.

You had told Tsuru of course, but both of you had agreed to omit this name from the reports. Because you didn’t know how in bed that individual may already be with the government. The criminals you’d interrogated had been too low level to know either.

That would be a beast to chase another day.

And when you were finally done with all of this and the questions did begin, it was the onslaught you’d expected. Just one voice after another, over and over.

They wanted verification of figures, verification of sources, this, that, everything.

It was hard not to grow irritable after awhile. You’d rather have been doing punishment laps in Marineford with Akainu screaming at you by then rather than defending all these inane quibbles the government officials had.

But finally the moment came where you waited for the next stupid bureaucrat to speak and only silence rose up instead.

Sengoku was a savior though, as after just that first initial silence he made sure to close the interrogation for good. “Thank you again, Captain.” He nodded to you. “This information will surely weigh heavily on our decision whether to mobilize forces to the region. We won’t keep you either. You are dismissed.”

You could have hugged the Fleet Admiral by then. But of course you didn’t let the relief show, only nodding respectfully before picking up all Tsuru’s folders again as you remained standing, then sliding your chair back in.

Sengoku was already speaking once more to the others as you turned to leave the table. And in your intense focus to defend your report, you hadn’t realized that at some point your warlord neighbor had further stretched out one of his long legs. But this time directly behind you.

It had to be on purpose now as you’d turned around and immediately tripped over it.

Only your reflexes saved you. Well arguably so as even though you didn’t fall, you’d had to reach out one arm to catch yourself.

The folders were clutched to you. But your other hand grabbed the nearest thing to steady your body.

As Doflamingo was still seated, it would have just been his shoulder if he were any normal man. But with his taller height, your palm then splayed out against his goddamned bare chest beneath his open shirt.

It was only a second of skin to skin contact. Your palm against the bottom edge of his stupidly firm pectoral muscle. And you prayed that no one else even saw it as you’d recoiled your hand just as fast and straightened up to keep walking. You may have even scratched him with your fingernails for how hard you’d pulled back.

Before now, Doflamingo had not made a single sound the entire time you’d been in this room either. But you heard a disapproving cluck of his tongue as you passed him.

And then something else that pulled from deeper down in him. It was so low, that you doubted anyone else could have possibly heard it.

“Tease.” Was the menacing whisper, making it the first time you’d ever heard that foul man’s voice directed to you alone.

But you didn’t look back. Physically relieved actually as soon as those doors had closed back behind you, and you’d been able to escape to the corridor with the outside guards looking on.

———————————

You tried to remember your promise to Tsuru of not being intimidated by Doflamingo as you moved through the halls on your way to the archive next. But your body was ignoring your brain somehow.

You felt flustered again. Not so unlike you had with Smoker this morning. But it was clearly different. With Smoker you’d been angry, hurt even if you were finally being honest with yourself.

You felt angry now too obviously. That some arrogant warlord would try to embarrass you in front of your superiors like that.

But that wasn’t all. You were frustrated by his insinuation. Because why did he say that to you? It wasn’t even the word really. It was the way in which he said it.

Tease.

Like a promise…or a threat. You realized just how much your conflicted feelings must show on your face as well for the very weird look the World Government pencil pusher gave you as you walked up to their desk at the entrance of the basement archives.

“Security clearance please.” The worker still said reflexively.

You said your name and rank as you flashed your marine card from out of your pocket. “I’m bringing these documents to be filed about the Charybdis war.” As Tsuru had also requested you to do earlier.

The clerk looked at the government numbering on one of the folders briefly. “Bottom level, store room D. Please leave them in the return lockbox there and they will be cataloged in three to five business days.”

Ah, the joys of bureaucracy. “Thank you,” You said anyway as they pressed a button on their desk to unlock the stairwell door.

Once you were past the door and you heard the deadbolts slide back closed again though, you sighed.

You just needed to forget all of it. Fuck Smoker and his betrayal, fuck Doflamingo and his mind games. Nothing was supposed to be like this today.

But to your horror, you realized your eyes were finally trying to water a little as you began the long descent.

The basement archives were an absurd thirteen levels and you were now heading for the bottom as you descended the narrow stairwell.

Of course everyone had warned you. They’d said that you would be too much for Smoker to put up with in the long run. But you’d wanted him. Or maybe you’d just wanted someone who could hold his own against you period. And Smoker had just happened to be who fit the bill and was available at that time.

You wiped idly at your face and the new dampness there. You’d waited three months too, thinking you’d have a real man in your bed again tonight. You’d behaved in every port of call and ignored the catcalls and the stares of useless boys in the ranks in order to stay abstinent.

And for what?

To be left with nothing but a goodbye fight in the middle of Mariejois.

So that’s where your mind really was as you kept on down the stairs. The overly loud ventilation fans made even hearing your own footsteps difficult. But the constant white noise was kind of soothing too.

As you finally entered storage room D on the very bottom level, you had to click the lights on. There was a large metal table in the room’s center, with rows of shelving all around. Shelves full of different file boxes, as you found the lockbox noted for those still to be filed.

You slid your paperwork into the slot to complete your task. But hesitated after, now thinking how little your somewhat irritated thighs were going to enjoy the equally lengthy stair climb back up.

All alone at last, you opened your marine coat then to take a better look at your bare legs. The damage really wasn’t all that noticeable visually. But couldn’t Aokiji just have stopped at your calves? Did he have to ice burn you so far upward past that?

You were fiddling with your tight skirt next, trying to shift it slightly so that the side seam wasn’t pressing as much into the irritated skin there when you actually caught the smell of something.

Just the faintest hint of expensive cologne, completely out of place here as you realized with a sudden dread that you had left your back to the open doorway.

Your observation haki was still the weaker of the two types you possessed. But not unusable to you, especially when it screamed in your mind to move now as your body instantly chose fight over flight.

You could actually feel the air movement against the tears still in your eyes as Doflamingo’s strings passed you in a near miss as you dodged.

The coil of your rope dart was already slid off your shoulder by then as well. The dagger tip and rope glowing with haki as you struck back at your attacker, launching your weapon towards the doorway in a blur.

For how tall he was, the warlord moved as fast as anyone you’d ever fought though. Faster even, with only your haki keeping him from shredding your rope dart with his strings as they entangled one another.

His long fingers were jerking this way and that as you tried to keep up. It was exceedingly more difficult to protect yourself and your weapon at the same time.

His strings were slicing through anything else they contacted. The lockbox you’d just used exploded like confetti behind you.

String after string was dancing around your body too as you blocked with a pepper of armament coating. The confines of the room made strategy limited. There were only so many evasive moves you could make before you had to get in closer to him.

And your legs were your best weapon once the rope dart was out of play. You were too close to him now to get enough throw in the dart anyway, switching to kicks as your heavy ankle boots went for him hard.

Hard enough that he grunted with the rapid strikes, actually taking a few steps back. But you knew his own coating was protecting all those vital points just as quickly.

Haki meeting haki over and over as you tried to be fast enough to find a weak spot before he could cover it.

And when you couldn’t with your feet, you went for punches instead. You knew the switch up may give you a single chance to land a significant blow, and it really did.

He had still been focusing on your legs as you’d sprung off of your foot, up in the air, but then clocking him as hard as you possibly could in the left side of his face with your haki flared out from that punch.

The connect and the resulting way his face whipped to the side was the most satisfying thing you had experienced in ages. Even more so than hitting Smoker this morning in front of everyone.

But your satisfaction was short lived as Doflamingo’s leg came up in brutal retribution.

“Athlete!” He snarled the named attack, his entire leg coated with that aura of willpower then and strings arcing behind it from his foot as you tried to block.

It was too strong to matter though. Even though you did block him, your back still crashed into the far wall after the hit. Files flew everywhere through the air as you had shattered and twisted multiple rows of shelves when you’d been sent straight through them.

You’d coated your spine and the back of your head before the hit to keep from having your back broken or worse. But it still knocked the wind out of you and hurt like a mother fucker before Doflamingo’s hand was then tight around your throat before you could hope to charge him again.

He’d crossed the room in an instant to follow you. And you choked once initially in his grip, but didn’t plead as you glared up into those blood red glasses now looming above you.

That single moment of being stunned was all it took for him to lock you in place as well as you felt the strings now tightening around your arms and legs when he pinned you.

He was breathing audibly though with blood running from the side of his mouth as he did so. Your earlier punch had put his cheek into his teeth enough to shred some of that inner flesh you realized.

You could see the hateful sneer on his face and the angry blood vessel bulging on his forehead. But he didn’t even speak at first. When his strings were fully tight enough on your limbs, only then did his hand release your throat.

Which let you take a gasping breath of course, refilling your lungs as soon as able. Yet you felt his fingers on the side of your face next. Calloused fingertips as they moved roughly across your tear streaks to smear them even further.

“Don’t tell me you came down here just to pity yourself.” He said almost as a growl then.

“I thought you liked to fight.” He added soon after though. But the way he was watching you made it feel like he was beginning to pivot from frustration to gloating already.

“You attacked a marine unprovoked.” You breathed again, trying to get some mental grasp back by falling into protocol. “Your immunity doesn’t give you that right.”

His head tilted slightly at your wording, that predatory body language remaining. “Unprovoked?” He was starting to smile too. But it was an equally cruel looking expression. “I strongly disagree.”

And to your shock, the strings around your legs actually started to spread them open as he only smiled larger. “You have no idea how long this has been coming. Tsuru’s little pet…” He mocked with an unnerving chuckle. “And she finally let you out of the nest alone. What did she expect would happen?”

As he said this, he only paused long enough to remove that gaudy pink feather coat, hanging it out of his way on one of the mangled shelves.

But this boded even worse for you. Showing he was planning on remaining here for more than a short time as you tried to move against the strings abruptly then. Even testing your haki to see if you could weaken them that way. But as thin as they were, they were just too many to break.

At least not without incurring severe injury on yourself. You felt the immediate sting as blood ran down from one of your calves to drip on the floor when you’d pulled too hard against the sharp strands.

“Mmm.” He almost cooed, watching the fresh blood for a moment as he partially rolled up the white sleeves of his open dress shirt. “Willing to lose some limbs just to show me how tough you really are then?” He questioned.

But you shuddered as his hand found your inner thigh immediately after. He steadied your leg with his grip initially, actually keeping the string from digging in further. But he didn’t stop there as his palm slid up for his long fingers to press against your underwear after.

“You can’t be serious.” You spoke in complete disbelief at the unwanted touch. He was a warlord, a fucking king of an entire country actually. In what world would he feel the need to prove anything by forcing himself on the likes of you? Maybe that wasn’t where your thought process should have been in this moment. But that’s where it goddamn went as he started to massage you shamelessly through the fabric.

“I already told you.” He chided as he never looked away from your face now. “You and me…you’ve been playing with this fire for quite awhile, little marine. Fair is fair.”

What was he talking about!? You’d never even interacted with him before now. Not directly at least, and never alone.

You were startled again though as with just another flick of his fingers, your underwear was cut apart. He pulled the loose fabric away, letting the pieces fall to the ground as his probing fingers replaced the previous massaging immediately.

“And don’t worry about us being interrupted.” His voice was so smooth too as if he wasn’t now attempting to finger fuck you just below your skirt. “That peon upstairs isn’t going to say a word. I work for the World Government remember? And my influence here is still more than most would think.”

“But the marines,” You shifted, trying and failing to sound threatening at all as one of his fingers pressed quickly past your sensitive entrance.

“Heh,” he laughed a little as you tightened around his finger, trying to resist it moving deeper. “I told your cohorts that I had to take a piss. But my string clone is being a good boy in my place by now I’m sure.”

“The fuck did I ever do to you!?” You retorted at that, hating how simple it all really was. Was no one really going to realize his trick? And would he just kill you when it was all said and done to keep you from talking about this?

“You really are trying to bait me, aren’t you?” He laughed again. “Can’t I just say I want to fuck you? What’s so wrong with that? I’ve seen you around for how many years now? In your slutty little skirts, always ready to fight. But still ignoring me like the bitch that you are.”

No, you still didn’t fully believe that. There had to be more to this. Had you done something that made you a threat? But you’d be stupid to rile him up too much more. So you tried to focus on just surviving the here and now.

“And you’re still tighter than I thought you’d be.” He commented anyway though, clearly giving his attention back to the way your walls kept closing on his finger. “I bet even a weakling like Smoker felt big in there didn’t he? I saw the show you put on with him earlier. Made me a little jealous…”

His voice was also trying so hard to entice you. Every time he spoke, you felt like you were reacting to that just as much as his touch.

“Was that pissant really what you were crying over though? Did he break that little marine heart?” He continued, tracing another finger over your shirt, directly between your breasts at the word. “You know…the best revenge is just getting right back up and onto a new cock.”

The odd way his tone still deepened then, was he speaking from experience? You’d heard the rumors about him and Sir Crocodile.

But Doflamingo was also really moving his other hand harshly between your legs now. You could feel how slick it had already gotten to your shame as well.

Men or women, it likely didn’t matter to him. As long as he got to be the one in control. But still, why you?

“You talk a lot.” Was what you finally said, trying not to let your hips move against his hand like your traitorous body already wanted to do. He’d added a second finger inside you now, spreading things even a little more.

But he didn’t get angry when you responded again. It was as if he’d been waiting for it actually.

“Then kiss me and shut me up you marine bitch.” He taunted in return. Yet with it obvious that you were restrained and could make no such move before he suddenly bent down to take your lips by force instead.

And there was nothing you could do but endure as his obscene tongue quickly pushed its way past your teeth. The taste of his blood from your earlier punch was still heavily there as well.

He made a greedy sound against your lips, trying to coax your own tongue out as you held back.

And when you wouldn’t meet him there, he suddenly bit your bottom lip instead. Hard enough that you yelped into his mouth and pulled against the strings again.

But he only laughed as he grabbed you by the back of your head. Keeping you from biting him in return before the blood started pooling from your wound.

“You really thought you wouldn’t be punished for trying to break my goddamn jaw earlier, woman?” He was still smiling as he said it though, now watching your blood run down your chin.

“I think red really is your color though.” He added needfully too, and before you could turn your face away, he’d leaned in again to actually lick the blood trail from your skin.

Which transitioned into another wet kiss even as he held your hair with his fist tight against your scalp.

“Just accept what I’m offering you, woman.” He growled a little as he broke the kiss once more. “You want to live I’m sure. But I’m not unreasonable. Keep your mouth shut after this, and I’ll make sure your rank doesn’t stop at captain either. There’s no reason we can’t both have what we want.”

“You don’t even know me.” Somehow you still found those words to say. Even if you knew it was useless. You’d made the mistake of briefly glancing down when he’d shifted too. His large arousal was now obvious through his already tight pants.

But he spoke again regardless. “Don’t I? I know ruthlessness when I see it. Ambition.” Abruptly he’d slid his fingers back out of you now. His smile was nearly ear to ear. “That’s why Smoker turned on you. Don’t you get it?”

And you could only be more surprised as he squatted down in front of you without warning. Long legs bent, his ass almost touching the ground. But not quite as he grabbed your outer thighs to start pushing your skirt up and out of his way.

“They’re afraid of you, darling.” Doflamingo nearly purred, the warmth of his breath then against your exposed slit.

“So I’m the man you need now.” He said almost softly, just before his mouth closed around you.

You bucked and it only made him press harder, he was sucking you audibly. Mouthing your clit before letting his long tongue back out to sweep across it as if it needed to be licked clean. As if it was his absolute mission to send those trembles through your thighs and hear you whimper for him.

He had no hesitation, no shame at all as he kept his mouth and nose buried against you. You could feel even his glasses scraping your skin as he worked roughly and you shuddered multiple times.

“You see?” He did speak after another long lick, looking up at you again. “You want it don’t you? All of it. So take it. That’s what power is.”

He really was a manipulator, changing as fast as the tides to meet his goals. To imagine this level of confidence existing naturally in anyone would have been hard to believe if you hadn’t been right here to witness it.

“Are you recruiting me or fucking me, warlord?” You asked, but too overstimulated for it to sound like anything more than you struggling with yourself now.

He stood back to his full imposing height then, yet fondly licking the residue of you off of his mouth as he did so.

“Both.” He answered simply.

And as he said that, another few flicks of his fingers had every button falling off of your shirt. Both his hands spread your shirt open after, before he started feeling across the newly exposed skin.

There were bruises across your torso of course, but also still those little reddened areas from Aokiji’s ice burns of earlier. You realized just how much attention Doflamingo was paying to every inch of it too, tracing any damage before he slid your bra up and out of the way to begin squeezing your soft breasts.

“Are the rumors about you and Aokiji true as well?” The pirate asked straight out of the blue however as he looked over the light burns. “He did seem to take special care with you.”

“What?” You almost stammered as your chest continued to be groped, even as you felt another shift in the level of danger. Doflamingo was abruptly more serious again.

And when you didn’t immediately answer him, those glasses were staring straight through you.

“You’ve fucked him too haven’t you?” He clarified, as if you were too slow to understand.

And of course you had known what he meant the first time. The question was why it suddenly mattered, and why you knew to your core that things would explode now if you lied to him.

“We did.” You answered quietly. This was something you never talked about. “Before Smoker. But it didn’t last.” And even then, you felt you had to give an excuse as to why. “He thought I was too young then.”

“I remember that,” Doflamingo actually admitted though, squeezing your breasts a little harder then. Almost to the point of being painful after your confession.

“The rookie that already knew haki. Another pain in the ass whenever Tsuru’s ship would roll up in one of my towns before I became a warlord. I lost a lot of soldiers to prisons throughout the North Blue because of you all.”

Yet he didn’t sound angry anymore over that part of it. And he just kept on. “But now with Smoker out of the picture…I wouldn’t be surprised if Aokiji tries you for another round. You’re all grown up and an officer after all. But too bad for him, I got here first…”

And as if to reiterate that point, Doflamingo leaned down and kissed you again without warning. But even with your bloody lip, it was still different than any one he’d given you before now. He wasn’t dominating this time. He wasn’t even forcing you. It was a real kiss as you finally allowed your tongue to reciprocate in complete surprise to yourself.

Because it actually felt so very good. Good enough that you even made a wanting sound, leaning into it a little more.

You wanted to be held then too. But his hands weren’t on your chest anymore. He was doing something with them, and you weren’t watching as you were living for this kiss in this moment with your eyes closed.

It didn’t take long however to realize the trade off that had already been made. Because you felt the pressure of his newly freed cock against your entrance soon after. That was what his hands had been doing, loosening his pants enough to free himself.

It was so sudden. And he didn’t give you the option of even a verbal refusal either. You just felt yourself stretch abruptly as the head pushed inside of you.

He had straightened up again by then, breaking the kiss as he did so. And whatever pathetic sound you made at the pain of penetration, had him only stroking his fingers across your hair and scalp as he kept pressing in further with his other arm snaking around your back to hold you to him.

“Good girl, let me in…” You heard him breathe as you continued to stretch. “Open up for me.”

He was the biggest you’d ever felt. But you refused to even look down, not wanting to see how disgustingly your poor skin would be pulled to tearing just to hold his girth inside of you.

“Relax.” He commanded again. Moving his hips ever so slowly as his skin slid against your inner walls, still going deeper.

When his tip finally bumped against your cervix, you heard him chuckle quietly as you tried to bury your face against him in the pain. “See?” He spoke in almost a whisper above you, so intimate now. “There’s the end. That’s as bad as it’ll be.” His fingers were still stroking your hair as well, like petting a wounded beast.

And even inside you then as deep as he could go, his hips still weren’t fully flush with yours. He was just that sizable. But that tightness clearly was pleasurable enough for him as he moaned a little already, starting to move his hips in a slow pumping motion.

It was maddening. Both torturous, but overwhelmingly erotic to be filled like you never had been before. Pleasure and pain shifting back and forth interchangeably as his thrusting began to quicken.

His breathing had changed too. You could hear the almost desperation in what was becoming more a panting sound as he let himself give in.

You even felt the strings start to loosen as he wanted to hold you more with his own hands. He had grabbed your legs behind the knees now, bidding you to wrap yourself around him as he picked you up.

“Fuck me, (Y/N). Come on. I want to hear you.” He said in the closest tone to begging that you thought anyone would ever hear from this man. All the while his hips kept pumping into you.

And it was the very first time he’d called you by name as well. Not bitch, not marine, not girl or woman. He was talking to you as he fucked you shamelessly. And he wanted the same attention in return.

“Doflamingo…” You finally said it too, holding on to him as the strings let go even more in response.

You felt so sore already, so it wasn’t easy to start to move your hips for him as well. But he groaned as soon as you did, his fingertips then digging possessively into your ass as you pumped up and down on his shaft while he stood there holding you.

You even felt a slight shudder go through him before he started to walk. Still inside of you, he carried you back to the center of the room and the metal table there before roughly setting you down on its edge.

His movements weren’t smooth at all by now. He was far too consumed as he forced you onto your back, your cunt still hanging off the table edge with his hard cock inside.

He loomed over you as he held your legs up against his torso and started thrusting so hard in and out again.

So much so that the table legs screeched as they shifted a few inches across the floor while you cried out.

He growled in pure satisfaction at your own sounds. But he wasn’t talking anymore. He was watching you as he fucked you, as if trying to commit your every tremble and whimper to memory.

Your exposed breasts were moving with your body as you panted for him. His fingernails dug into one of them, making you cry again as he shuddered once more.

It went on and on like this, the deep penetration and the pleasure within that pain. It was only when he realized you’d turned your face away, that he grabbed you by the jaw to make you look at him again.

“You’re mine.” The words were almost animalistic when they finally left his throat. Only seconds before his orgasm overtook him and you got to see the proud Heavenly Demon bite his own lip, overwhelmed as his body absolutely trembled.

And to drive home that possessive declaration, he never even pulled out of you. You could feel the tell tale pulsing running up from the base of his cock instead as his seed released inside. He purposefully held his length in too, as deep as it could possibly go for your body to take in every drop of him that it could keep.

Only the overflow was sticky and warm as you felt it dripping out to run along your ass soon after. He was still watching you as it did too, a slick of sweat on his abdomen from the body heat the two of you had made.

You both stayed like that for what felt like the longest time too. Surviving in the little aftershocks and neither wanting to let go for a few minutes.

He was still panting too, before he leaned back down over you, finally letting his now softening cock slide back out with a wet sound.

And you didn’t resist as he kissed you again with your back still on the table. Even with the pressure of him finally removed from between your legs, it ached terribly as you felt the last of the strings detach from your skin as well.

He knew he didn’t need them to control you anymore.

It was actually you who was the first to speak though. Just staring into those emotionless glasses when the kisses finally stopped again. “What now?” You asked warily as you felt him touch your hair again.

He wasn’t smiling. But he was thinking. “It really would be a waste to kill you.” He eventually admitted. His fingers traced almost delicately across your throat next however. A throat you knew he was considering how easy it would be to cut.

“But I won’t tolerate you interfering again, do you understand? I’ll forget Charybdis this time. You can have it. Because it’s become more trouble than it’s worth now. But if you ever hear the name Joker again, keep your pretty head out of it.”

Your eyes widened just ever so slightly, realizing that your instincts had been correct all along then. He had followed you down here specifically because of what he thought you already knew. And to destroy the reports no doubt in case there was anything else in them that could come back to bite him.

Whatever lust he held for you was just a bonus. If it could be called that anyway.

“We’re not pursuing Joker,” You breathed in return, still with his hand touching you as you actually turned your face to move it more into his palm. You didn’t know why you still wanted to be touched. “We don’t have enough evidence. My word alone wouldn’t be enough either.”

He huffed slightly, but still ran his fingertip against your wounded lip in return. “Then make sure it stays that way. Don’t make me ever regret sparing you. Because forgiveness won’t happen twice, even for you.”

With that he did back away, letting you sit up on the table at last.

And only then did you get to see his still wet cock as he grabbed it to begin tucking it back into his open pants. It wasn’t at its full glory any longer of course, soft now even with a visible vein running the length of it.

You did get the briefest glance of his impressive balls as well. Hung like a young bull almost before he’d pulled his pants back closed and started tying the drawstrings that held them around his waist.

“So you are a natural blond.” You mumbled tiredly, daring to smirk a little actually. You’d seen his short pubic hair around the base too. It looked like he’d shaved it recently and it was only just growing back a little. What a vain man.

“Heh.” He smiled lewdly, more back to his normal attitude then as he replied. “And I’ll expect you to kiss it next time.”

“Oh yeah?” You questioned despite yourself as you slid off the table back to standing. “Well I’m probably going to be arrested for treason and being a warlord fucker long before then.”

You couldn’t see his eyes, but his tone made it sound like they would be rolling at you now. “I told you I have more influence here than you think. This room will be sealed and cleaned up as soon as we leave. They’ll say they misfiled your reports and that will be the end of it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. He’d put his pink feather coat back on now, and was just lingering with his hands in his pockets as he watched you also try to redress.

You’d pulled your bra back down and straightened it. Your skirt too before you’d buttoned your coat shut again as there was no way to close your shirt after he’d ripped the buttons off it earlier.

As you also regathered your weapon, you could only hope the cum still dripping out onto your thighs would remain contained in your skirt and coat until you could get to the showers and find a change of clothes.

It was him that spoke again though as he still watched you. “I wasn’t bullshitting earlier either. Keep your friends off my ass and I’ll pull my strings literally and figuratively to get you promoted again soon enough.”

You glanced at him skeptically once more. “Just so you can have a high ranking marine in your pocket right?”

“Well of course. …And in my bed too.” At that he stuck his tongue out in a very vulgar gesture before laughing abruptly.

His legs were bent a little as he started to walk though, it looked funny until you realized he was trying to adjust himself. His still wet cock must have stuck to the inside of his pants.

You tried not to think just how bad the larger implications might be in the future though as you followed him back out into the stairwell. You had no doubt you were saving your own life, and likely some of Tsuru’s crew as well by keeping Joker’s identity under wraps for now.

But he’d expect this same level of cooperation ever after too, wouldn’t he? And likely even more before long. As you doubted anything would really stop here with an opportunistic man like this.

Yes, you had certainly fucked up today. But there was no redo to be had now.

Looking up the stairs, even your body thought you were an idiot in this moment. The accumulation of two fights, being frozen, and being fucked hard enough to still be hurting all the way into your cervix had worn you down as you thought just how many individual steps still lay ahead.

Doflamingo only hesitated one more time as he saw that tired expression on your face.

“I could help you, you know…” He teased as he levitated up a few floors instantly through the use of his strings.

You blinked, realizing he’d likely gotten to skip the stairs coming down as well. He could go up or down so easily.

“But then again-” He flipped to hang upside down briefly in the stairwell, clearly showing off for you. “No pain, no gain…right, my little marine?”

And before you could respond, he’d shot straight up the stairwell and out of sight with a deep, echoing laugh as his only memento while you were left staring.

“What a dick.” You grumbled to no one then as you started trudging slowly up the very first flight.

You deserved it though. Didn’t you?

———————————

T⨂ BE

CONTINUED

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Thanks for reading!

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