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#I will never learn another language again
sprintingowl · 3 days
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Deadball
Deadball Second Edition is a platinum bestseller on DrivethruRPG. This means it's in the top 2% of all products on the site. Its back cover has an endorsement from Sports Illustrated Kids.
It's also not an rpg I'd heard about until I discovered all of these facts one after another.
I was raised in a profoundly anti-sports household. My father would say stuff like "sports is for people who can't think" and "there's no point in exercising, everything in your body goes away eventually." So I didn't learn really any of the rules of the more popular American sports until I was in my mid twenties, and I've been to two ballgames in my life. I appreciate the enthusiasm that people have for sports, but it's in the same way that I appreciate anyone talking about their specific fandom.
One of the things that struck me reading Deadball was its sense of reverence for the sport. Its language isn't flowery. It's plain and technical and smart. But its love for baseball radiates off of the pages. Not like a blind adoration. But like when a dog sits with you on the porch.
For folks familiar with indie rpgs, there's a tone throughout the book that feels OSR. Deadball doesn't claim to be a precise simulation or a baseball wargame or anything like that---instead it lays out a bunch of rules and then encourages you to treat them like a recipe, adjusting to your taste. And it does this *while* being a detailed simulation that skirts the line of wargaming, which is an extremely OSR thing to do.
For folks not familiar with baseball, Deadball starts off assuming you know nothing and it explains the core rules of the sport before trying to pin dice and mechanics onto anything. It also explains baseball notation (which I was not able to decipher) and it uses this notation to track a play-by-play report of each game. Following this is an example of play and---in a move I think more rpgs should steal from---it has you play out a few rounds of this example of play. Again, this is all before it's really had a section explaining its rules.
In terms of characters and stats, Deadball is a detailed game. You can play modern or early 1900s baseball, and players can be of any gender on the same team, so there's a sort of alt history flavor to the whole experience, but there's also an intricate dice roll for every at bat and a full list of complex baseball feats that any character can have alongside their normal baseball stats. Plus there's a full table for oddities (things not normally covered by the rules of baseball, such as a raccoon straying onto the field and attacking a pitcher,) and a whole fatigue system for pitchers that contributes a strong sense of momentum to the game.
Deadball is also as much about franchises as it is about individual games, and you can also scout players, trade players, track injuries, track aging, appoint managers of different temperaments, rest pitchers in between games, etc.
For fans of specific athletes, Deadball includes rules for creating players, for playing in different eras, for adapting historical greats into one massively achronological superteam, and for playing through two different campaigns---one in a 2020s that wasn't and one in the 1910s.
There's also thankfully a simplified single roll you can use to abstract an entire game, allowing you to speed through seasons and potentially take a franchise far into the future. Finances and concession sales and things like that aren't tracked, but Deadball has already had a few expansions and a second edition, so this might be its next frontier.
Overall, my takeaway from Deadball is that it's a heck of a game. It's a remarkably detailed single or multiplayer simulation that I think might work really well for play-by-post (you could get a few friends to form a league and have a whole discord about it,) and it could certainly be used to generate some Blaseball if you start tweaking the rules as you play and never stop.
It's also an interesting read from a purely rpg design perspective. Deadball recognizes that its rules have the potential to be a little overbearing and so it puts in lots of little checks against that. It also keeps its more complex systems from sprawling out of control by trying to pack as much information as possible into a single dice roll.
For someone like me who has zero background in baseball, I don't think I'd properly play Deadball unless I had a bunch of friends who were into it and I could ride along with that enthusiasm. However as a designer I like the book a lot, and I'm putting it on my shelf of rpgs that have been formative for me, alongside Into The Odd, Monsterhearts, Mausritter, and Transit.
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inkmonster21 · 2 days
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Hahaha jealous Caesar when he spots you talking to an ape or human and he just scares them away with his imitating look making reader confused on why the human man isnt talking to her and then she sees Caesar do it. Making her tease him for being jealous.
I hope you're doing okay and that you remember to drink lots of water and refresh when needed, so you're not pushing yourself.
Jealous Ape
Caesar x Reader
A/N: thanks so much! I am feeling so much better today! Finally finished my antibiotics and I’m feeling like myself again! ❤️
~o0o~
Caesar observes you from afar, his gaze always watchful and observant. He sees the way you greet everyone with a kind smile, the warmth, and friendliness that radiates from you. There's something about you that intrigues him, that draws his attention and keeps his gaze on you. As you move through the colony, you can feel his eyes following you, studying you from a distance.
As you take a seat next to the female apes, the young chimps hoot in excitement, their eagerness to be groomed and fussed over by you evident. You offer them a warm smile and a friendly greeting, "Morning." The female apes greet you in return, the familiarity and comfort between you all evident. The young chimps chatter and clamber towards you, eager for your attention and grooming.
Caesar observed the scene before him, watching silently as the young chimps clambered and chattered around you. There was something about the way you interacted with them, the gentleness and care in your touch, that stirred something within him. He found himself growing fond of you, the way you engaged and played with the young ones, the way you handled them with patience and affection.
As Caesar watches you, he can't help but admire the way you seamlessly integrate yourself into the flock. Despite being a human, you had quickly become an accepted and respected member of their community. Caesar sees the way the other apes look at you, the way you handle yourself with confidence and dignity, and he cannot help but feel a sense of grudging respect for you.
You and your group had come to the apes months ago, offering a barter. Goods and materials for protection and access to the land that the apes lived on. But as part of the agreement, you had also offered something else - yourself. You had agreed to stay in the colony, to live among the apes, as a way to ensure that the humans would never turn on them again. Over time, you had become a permanent fixture in the colony, and the apes had come to accept and respect you as one of their own.
You had earned your place among the apes, slowly gaining their trust and earning their respect. Your calm and respectful demeanor had helped you integrate into their community, and you had come to feel like you belonged there. You had learned their customs, their language, and their way of life, and they had accepted you as one of their own. In many ways, you had become an unlikely ambassador between the worlds of humans and apes, straddling both worlds and finding a place for yourself in the middle.
Over time, Caesar began to spend more and more of his free time with you. At first, it was just occasional conversations or exchanges of pleasantries, but gradually, he began to seek you out more frequently. You found yourself enjoying these moments, the time spent in his company, and the conversations that flowed easily between the two of you. As the days passed, you grew more comfortable with one another, a strange and unexpected friendship developing.
Despite the growing bond between you and Caesar, you knew that pursuing a romantic relationship with him was not possible. The differences in your species made it impossible, even if you had felt differently. So you chose to remain silent on your feelings, keeping your heart locked away and hidden, despite the longing and affection you felt for the ape king.
You knew that Caesar could never feel the same way you do. The gulf between human and ape was too vast, and the idea of him returning your affection was simply wishful thinking. So you resigned yourself to silently pining after him, knowing that your love would forever remain one-sided and unfulfilled.
Caesar would occasionally leave small gifts at your door or give them to you during meals, simple gestures that showed he was thinking of you. You never failed to gush over the gifts, and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched your reactions. He was pleased to know that you appreciated his thoughtfulness, even if it was more out of friendship than anything else.
Caesar had spent several days gathering shells and twine, working carefully to braid them together into a necklace for you. The necklace was beautiful and delicate, the shells a beautiful array of colors and shapes, woven together elegantly with the twine. Despite the simplicity of the materials, Caesar was pleased with his work, knowing that you would love it.
As you pick through your food, you notice Caesar approaching. You look up and smile, greeting him with a simple "Hi, Caesar." Your eyes linger on him for a moment longer than necessary, taking in his stature.
Caesar was always vigilant, always on guard, but around you, he found himself able to let his body relax. He trusted you, deeply. Over time, he had grown to care for you, his feelings developing from mere trust into something more intimate.
Caesar moves closer to you, sitting down beside you with a gentle rustle of leaves. He holds out a small, crudely wrapped bundle, the gift he had promised to you. His voice is soft and a little hesitant as he speaks, "I brought you...a gift."
You smile as you extend your hand, ready to receive the gift. Caesar gently places it in your hand, and as he does, your soft skin brushes against his calloused fingertips, a brief but charged moment of contact.
As you both smile at each other and gaze into each other's eyes, there is a moment of connection, a spark of something more than friendship. The air between you seems to crackle with tension, the silence speaks volumes.
As you look down into your hands, you can't help but gasp at the sight of the necklace in your hands. It is beautiful, the shells a riot of colors and shapes, the twine woven together elegantly. It's obvious that Caesar had spent time and care crafting the necklace, and you can't help but be touched by his thoughtfulness.
"Caesar," you hum as you look at the necklace, admiring it with reverence. You could feel your heart swelling in your chest, touched by the thoughtfulness and care he had put into crafting this necklace, just for you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke deeply of his feelings for you.
"It's so beautiful," you say, the words a whisper as you admire the necklace. The shells glimmer in the light, their colors and patterns creating a mesmerizing display. The twine is expertly woven, its thinness almost invisible as it holds the shells together. You touch the necklace reverently, tracing a shell with a fingertip.
"Thank you." The words come out as a soft murmur, filled with gratitude and warmth. Your heart is full of feelings you can't fully express, and there's an urge to reach out and embrace him. But you hold back, uncertain about crossing a line. You don't want to ruin this moment or risk losing the friendship you had so carefully built together. So instead, you simply look up at him, meeting his gaze with a look filled with emotion.
Caesar could sense your desire to embrace him but could also see the hesitation in your eyes. He understood the conflicted feelings that were churning within you. The line between friendship and something more was a delicate one, and he didn't want to force you to cross it if you weren't ready.
Caesar's voice is gentle and soft as he urges, "Put it on." His fingers wrap around the necklace, and he moves your hair gently to the side, revealing your bare shoulders. The movement of his hand is tender, his touch gentle as he positions the necklace against your skin.
You can feel your breath catch in your throat as Caesar's fingers brush against your skin. The touch is like a spark against a dry tinder, setting a fire within you. His hand is warm and strong, and the sensation of his fingertips against your skin sends your heart hammering in your chest.
The shells of the necklace rest gently against your chest, their smooth surfaces rising and falling with each breath you take. The feel of the necklace is almost intimate, the shells cool against your skin, a constant reminder of Caesar's thoughtfulness and care.
You found yourself grappling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Was this necklace simply meant as a gesture of peace, a way to strengthen the bond between apes and humans? Or was it something more, a display of affection or care from Caesar to you? The line between friendship and something deeper was becoming increasingly blurry, and you couldn't quite make heads or tails of Caesar's behavior.
You look back at Caesar, the sight of his fond smile bringing a flicker of uncertainty to your heart. His expression is soft and affectionate, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. It's a sight that both warms and confuses you, leaving you questioning the true nature of his feelings.
This wasn't the first time you had gone to bed feeling confused about your feelings for Caesar, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The tumultuous emotions swirling inside you, the uncertainty and longing, kept you awake at night. The necklace he had given you remained on your bedside table, a constant reminder of your complicated relationship with the ape king.
The sun had barely risen when your group finally emerged from the woods, looking tired but satisfied. You quickly stood up from your perch on a log and hurried over to them, your heart filled with relief and happiness to see them all unharmed and safe. Without hesitation, you embraced your friends, wrapping your arms around them in a tight hug of greeting and affection.
You were eager to hear all about their journey, wanting to know what they had seen and experienced in the days they had been gone. "So," you say as you pull away from the hugs, "tell me everything. What happened on your journey?"
James, the former military officer who sat next to you, began to weave an embellished version of the story, describing their adventures with exaggerated bravado and humor. You found yourself giggling at several points, easily able to recognize the embellishments but finding them amusing nonetheless.
As James continued his story, you couldn't help but feel eyes on you. The sensation of being watched from a distance was unmistakable, and you glanced around, trying to identify the source of the gaze.
You turn around, trying to see who might be watching, but everyone else in the colony seems occupied with their own business. You absently toy with the necklace at your throat as you listen to James's story, your fingers tracing the smooth shells, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling.
You can't help but laugh at a particularly amusing moment in James's story, your eyes sparkling with mirth. Even as you chuckle, however, you still can't shake the feeling of being watched.
James, just as he was telling the next part of the story, turns towards you, a question on his lips. He looks at you for a moment with curiosity, as though he wants to ask something. Your anticipation for James's question is interrupted as he suddenly looks past you, his gaze drifting away. You turn to follow his gaze, your eyes falling on Caesar, who is standing nearby, watching the two of you intently.
Even without looking, you can sense the intense gaze of the ape king, and you turn to see Caesar's expression, his eyes narrowing at James. The look on Caesar's face is one of possessiveness and anger, and it becomes even more apparent as James leans slightly closer to you.
The sight of James being so close to you bothered Caesar, the possessive gleam in his eyes growing more intense. Caesar's body seemed to tense slightly, and his eyes flicked between you and James, his jaw clenching slightly.
James, perhaps feeling the intensity of Caesar's glare, leans back, creating some distance between the two of you. He looks slightly uncomfortable, and there's a subtle flicker of fear in his eyes as he glances at Caesar.
For the rest of the night, it was as if Caesar was constantly watching you. His eyes tracked your every movement, and any time a male human approached you, his glare would harden, warning them silently to keep their distance. It was a territorial display, a silent declaration of ownership.
You felt your limbs growing weary and your mind weary, ready for respite. "I'm going to head to bed," you finally say, getting up slowly from the log.
James stands up as well, his expression casual. "I'll walk you," he offers. "My tent's close by, so I'm headed there anyway."
You nod in agreement, and together with James, you begin walking towards your abode. The path is dimly lit by the flickering of distant fires, casting dancing shadows on the trees. The night air is cool and quiet, the sounds of crickets and nocturnal creatures filling the air.
You and James continue down the path, and soon you arrive at your house. Its simple structure is made of sturdy branches and leaves, and it blends well with the surroundings.
"Here's my stop," you say, gesturing to your house. "Would you like to come in for a moment?"
As you invite James inside, he looks like he's about to accept, but the sudden change in his demeanor is unmistakable. His gaze turns fearful, and he gulps, shaking his head. "No," he stammers, "I'll just... see you tomorrow."
With a swift sidestep, he walks off, his steps quickening as he leaves. You're left standing there, bewildered by the sudden shift in his behavior.
As you turn around, you find Caesar. He stands, glaring at James's departing figure, his eyes fixated on the human male as he scurries away. You cross your arms and look at Caesar, a mix of curiosity and slight irritation in your expression.
"What are you doing?", your tone is a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. Caesar's attention snaps back to you, his intense gaze meeting yours. There's a moment of silence as he regards you with an almost guarded expression.
"I was making sure you were safe," Caesar finally replies, his voice slightly gruff. As you look back at James's retreating figure, a small smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. "Pretty sure I can take him," you remark, your tone light and almost challenging.
Caesar huffs in response, a sound that seems both amused and jealous at once. He regards you with a mixture of admiration and protectiveness, his gaze holding a hint of possessiveness.
Caesar's eyes linger on James for a moment longer before he looks back at you, his gaze focused and intense. His question, "Do you... care for him?" hangs in the air between you, the weight of his concern tangible.
Your eyes widen with surprise as the nature of Caesar's question hits you, and you exclaim, "James?"
You study Caesar's expression, trying to discern the true meaning behind his words. Is he worried that you have feelings for James? The thought is both shocking and confusing.
Caesar's gaze remains fixated on you, his expression a mix of concern and vulnerability. He's waiting for your answer, his body tense as if anticipating your response. There's a sense of anxiousness about him, a fear of what your answer might be.
Your curiosity piqued, you press further, asking, "Why?"
Caesar's gaze intensifies as he processes your question. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "I just want to know," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness.
As you shake your head and quietly admit that you care for someone else, your gaze averts away from Caesar. A mixture of emotions flits across your face - trepidation, vulnerability, and a hint of uncertainty. You swallow hard, the truth laid bare in your admission.
Caesar's expression softens slightly as he absorbs your words. The knowledge that you care for someone other than James seems to lift a weight from his shoulders, and his gaze warms a bit. However, there's a slight flicker of disappointment and longing in his eyes. He nods slowly, a quiet acceptance in his gesture. "Who?" he asks softly.
Your hand instinctively grips your necklace, your fingers tracing the smooth shells as a soft smile graces your lips. It's a subtle, unconscious gesture that speaks volumes about whom you care for.
As Caesar takes in the sight of your hand on the necklace he gifted you, his expression softens even further, understanding flickering across his face.
Caesar's tone is tinged with a mixture of disbelief and uncertainty as he points to himself. "Me?" The word hangs in the air between you like a question mark, his eyes searching your face for confirmation. Despite his doubts, there's a spark of hope in his gaze, a glimmer of belief.
You release a nervous breath, a mix of vulnerability and resignation coloring your words. "Don't act so disappointed," you say, your voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I know it wouldn't... work out."
Caesar watches you, his expression shifting to one of realization and acceptance. He knows the truth, the reality of the situation, and yet... there's a part of him that yearns for it to be different.
Caesar steps closer, his movements deliberate and filled with a newfound determination. "No," he says firmly, his voice laced with conviction. "I am not disappointed... at all."
The distance between you shrinks with each step he takes, and his eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of hope and longing.
Caesar’s smile grows as he steps closer, his body now inches away from yours. "I am… glad," he says, his voice soft and sincere.
The proximity between you feels charged, the air thick with anticipation. Caesar gazes at you, his gaze affectionate and filled with tenderness.
Caesar's hand comes to rest gently on your cheek, his touch warm and tender. He then slowly, almost reverently, leans his head forward to bring his forehead against yours. The press of his skin against yours is intimate and affectionate, an unspoken gesture of affection and care.
As you stand with Caesar, forehead to forehead, the world around you fades away. There are no colony members, no humans, and no dangers to worry about. At this moment, it's just the two of you.
Your heart beats in time with his, and in this quiet, intimate moment, a silent declaration is made. You are his, and he is yours. The bond between you feels palpable, like a tether that can never be broken.
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moonbaby26 · 16 hours
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Title: The Best Laid Plans
(Chapter 18 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)
*Crossposted to AO3 Here*
Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Caesar Clown (implied), Smoker x Reader (referenced)
Chapter Warnings: language, reader is still going through it, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, breeding kink, Doflamingo is a freak (as always)
Chapter Synopsis: The morning after your and Doflamingo’s public engagement and actual marriage, he’s already working towards what he wants from you next. And you begin learning a bit more about the family you’ve now been chained to. All while this news of your union begins affecting even those who want nothing to do with you.
A/N: Not fully proofread! I will buzz back through later to clean up mistakes. I had a personal goal to post an update by this weekend, and I wanted to stick to it. 🫡
Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18
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“I have to say…this is unusual, Caesar. Am I to feel like the pay I’ve already wired was insufficient this time? Or have you just had higher priorities this week outside of me?”
Caesar Clown was staring at that snail on the lab table in front of him, and the wholly disappointed edge behind every additional word.
Simply not answering Joker’s phone calls at any hour they might come had never been an option. Punk Hazard was far too close to Dressrosa for one thing. And Doflamingo’s warlord status allowed him impromptu visits whenever he’d wished on this otherwise restricted government island.
But even more important than that constant threat of his proximity, was the fact that Caesar wanted to answer when this man called for him.
Everything about Doflamingo intrigued him really. Every new test of his scientific skills that the pirate could offer him, every new payday, and every thrill of power by association that came along with it all.
Joker had a way about him that just couldn’t be refused, an equally dangerous and charismatic provider like no other.
And this conflict of emotion was only further proven in the way Caesar’s stomach twisted with fear, simultaneous to his face flushing with embarrassment as he tried to lie. “I just wanted this to be perfect for you, Joker. That’s all.” 
The truth and real reason for Caesar’s unexpected delay was something far different of course. A setback that the scientist had no idea how to yet articulate when it involved his favorite client so personally as this.
Because the flaw wasn’t in the new concoction itself that Caesar had already created. It was in the biology of the man who had commissioned it.
“It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just needs to work as I instructed.” The other responded so flatly though, still unaware of what new knowledge Caesar was now hiding. “Did the news coos come by Punk Hazard yet this morning?” He asked almost conversationally next though.
“No.” Caesar was quick to answer a bit louder then, eager to divert to another subject if even briefly. “Why? Did something happen?”
The snail finally smiled a little there.
“I’m calling because I moved the timetable up again yesterday. At the colosseum in front of everyone actually. I can’t help it I guess. When I want something, I just take it.” Doflamingo answered far more smugly at that.
“Oh?” Caesar was twirling the phone cord between his fingers nervously now. He remembered well the urgency of their last conversation. Because Joker had obviously selected you as his broodmare of choice well before taking this public. 
And why not? 
The sheer vanity of the idea was appealing to Caesar as well. Taking a fiery, desirable woman and riding her into submission until she ultimately bore fruit. It sounded like a good time to him as well.
“It’s an official betrothal then?” Caesar could guess as much then.
The snail smirked again. “Yes, it went well. You should have heard the roaring of that crowd.”
But just when Caesar had started to feel the smallest bit of calm when Doflamingo had begun to further gloat, those words turned sharp again in an instant.
“So I want that serum in my hands by tomorrow night at latest, Caesar. I can’t wait any longer. Can you make that happen for me or not?”
Even when posed as a question, there was only ever one possible answer of course.
“Yes, Joker.”
The drug was already ready by Caesar’s standards. It’d force ovulation regardless of any contraceptive previously in your system. And it’d grant resilience in the fetus to the most common toxins, preventing either accidental or purposeful chemical abortion in at least the timeframe until it could be old enough to survive outside of your body anyway. Also with some other chemicals added to further the thickening of the uterine wall and amniotic sac for a bit more physical protection too.
Forced reproduction is what this plan truly was. But the devil always remained in the details.
Though confident as always in his own work, Caesar had still snuck what should have only been an uneventful peek into Vegapunk’s data from the currently unnamed warlord project as well.
All the warlords’ genomes and lineage factors had already been mapped out by Vegapunk. Made from clandestine samples taken from each warlord at the time of the signing of their government contracts in Mariejois.
So in only a single afternoon, Caesar had scoured through Doflamingo’s file. Just double checking for anything obvious. Any potentially debilitating mutations that could interfere in successful fertilization and healthy fetal development regardless of Caesar’s drug’s limited protections.
The scientist did not want to be blamed for a wild card like that after all.
But there, deep into those genetic markers, he had found something that was indeed a hard stop. Nothing that uncommon he guessed, but the absolute opposite of what this plan needed to be successful.
“Will…you be arriving here to pick up the product yourself then?” Caesar felt like those next words were coming out of his mouth on their own now. 
Joker was exponentially faster in the sky than any ship could hope to be on the water. It’d grant Caesar nearly a whole additional day of lab time if Doflamingo came here himself instead of having the drug shipped to Dressrosa.
It’d also give Caesar a chance to dose the pirate with something complimentary to that formula being given to you. Perhaps Doflamingo’s one breeding fault Caesar had found could be temporarily corrected here as well.
The snail paused. 
“You really need the extra time then…don’t you?” And there was a bit of new incredulousness in that tone that may have made Caesar proud in different circumstances.
Because he had never let Joker down prior to this moment. Thus the other’s natural surprise.
“It will be ready by then. I promise.” Caesar still tried to steady his voice.
He would do whatever he had to, to keep in the good graces of those beautifully deep pockets of course. Even if it meant degrading himself to finally ask for help from the last person he’d ever wish to as soon as this call would end.
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Doflamingo’s voice eventually conceded to the new terms.
A rare mercy that further reinforced just how badly the Heavenly Demon must want this to happen with you.
“But no more extensions after this, Caesar.” He warned none the less.
“I understand, Joker. And it will be very good to see you again.” Caesar tried to throw on that additional subservience at the end at least, to finish on a good note so to speak.
Doflamingo did notice that difference in tone too. Because flattery was always appreciated, and a brief hint of flirtation even better. “Heh. I’ll be in a hurry. I can’t leave her alone for long. She just gets into trouble every time I do.”
“She does sound fun.” Caesar mused then, gladly sensing that returning deescalation which came with this bit of parting indulgence. 
“She is. But I’m not sharing this one.” The snail grinned fully then. “So fantasize in private. And don’t miss a deadline with me again, dear Caesar.”
The snail disconnected with a click at that as the scientist was left still recovering, here alone in his lab.
He shivered, this new stress so very real as it ate through him.
Caesar knew what he had to do. It was the only way to fix this in the remaining time window available now.
And Vegapunk would be all the more insufferable after this impromptu request for collaboration he was sure.
But sacrifices had to be made, with Caesar’s own ego included in those losses for just this once.
Because Joker would have what he wanted.
Always.
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This meeting had been scheduled ages before now.
Crocodile’s request for official residency in Alabasta was to either be approved or denied today.
But his initial months of planning that should have had him walking into this room as the vessel of vengeance in the young princess’s tragic ransom attempt gone wrong, had been derailed in a single evening. 
Simply because you had to be in the wrong place at the right time.
Crocodile had always intended for his agents to kill Vivi. And then he would have killed them, dealing false justice and earning the full attention of Alabasta’s people.
King Cobra would then have had no choice, unable to publicly spurn the man who had captured and disposed of his precious daughter’s murderers.
And later, when the timing was fully right, Crocodile would have further pressed into that man’s paternal grief.
After getting all the information he’d need about the ancient weapon from the broken royal, it’d have been far too easy to then stage a suicide for Alabasta’s noble leader.
He’d have sewn the story of a father who just could never overcome the loss of his only child. 
And with the people’s favor by then, and Vivi already gone to leave no Nefertari heir to contend with, Crocodile would have been poised to take over this country in the power vacuum which would have followed.
But no.
Because of you, that little blue haired girl whose corpse should have long been sealed away in the Nefertari tomb was now standing before him and actually smiling instead.
She had apologized profusely to the king for not being able to wait a moment longer to share her news as she’d entered the palace dining area where Crocodile and her father had still been talking business.
The royal family’s guard zoans, Chaka and Pell stayed close, but also were losing their air of professionalism as they tried to look over the girl’s shoulder while she presented that brand new news coo delivery to the table.
“Father! Please, may I call and congratulate her!?” The girl was practically vibrating in this new excitement.
But Crocodile’s teeth were already clenching against his cigar.
Because even from across the table, of course he’d recognized that fucking bird’s high cheek bones and dark glasses on the front page.
Every last bit of his restraint was being tested as the tip of his hook punctured the smallest hole into the tabletop now. Catching there in that new imperfection as his jaw tightened further.
And Nefertari, a literal king, was sitting there all the while, marveling at these images and the hyperbolic words of Morgans’ that accompanied them while he turned through those pages.
“My, it says they have been courting one another for years even. How unusual…a pirate and a marine.” Cobra said aloud with some added incredulousness. But only then seeming to remember his own pirate guest at all. 
The almost sheepish look on the king’s face at that realization silently infuriated Crocodile all the more, before Cobra had the audacity to ask something even worse afterward.
“Besides being the ruler of Dressrosa, Doflamingo is also your colleague though. Are you close with him? Is this a surprise to you as well, Sir Crocodile?”
And it was also in the way that little girl’s bright eyes looked up to Crocodile with such anticipation for more details then. This insanity was beyond what the warlord could take.
Because it now surpassed all natural reason and probability the way that pink demon just kept ruining his life.
“Doflamingo does as he pleases. So I’m not surprised.” Crocodile’s deep voice somehow still managed rather noncommittally. His hand removing his cigar from his mouth then.
A tell they wouldn’t recognize. He was utterly seething. 
Because that fucking, feathered whore could never stop being this ridiculous and over the top in every single thing that he did.
And for what reasoning this time? There was always a play, a scheme, or a manipulation when it came to Doflamingo.
Nothing was ever genuine, nothing ever truly real.
That creature was a narcissist, a sociopath, a nymphomaniac, and any other random assortment of mental conditions he chose from his grab bag of collected neuroses on any given day.
“Father, please may I call her?” Yet Vivi started once more, not dissuaded in the least by Crocodile’s lackluster response.
“Yes, of course. But with Igaram to assist you. A call from you is an official contact from Alabasta and the Nefertari family after all…and this would essentially be us reaching out to the Donquixote royals as well now if you speak directly to her.”
And this realization somehow delighted the girl even further. “Oh…yes, you’re right! She’ll be a queen soon. Maybe we can even go to the next Reverie together!”
Cobra chuckled at this. “It’s certainly possible now, isn’t it?”
The girl wasted no time however, having now received her father’s permission as she hurried back out of the room to no doubt find Igaram and make that call.
Which did remind Crocodile of his own brief interaction with you too of course. When you rather rudely rejected his flowers and their very efficient poison.
But now he knew why Doflamingo had not immediately struck back in retaliation for that.
This public exhibitionism was that idiot’s response.
“My apologies for that interruption, Sir Crocodile.” Cobra had turned his head back to look at him again then once Vivi had left. “My daughter doesn’t have many friends outside of this palace any longer, now that her prior playmates have moved on to Yuba. And after that incident in Scylla, I believe she’s found quite a female role model in that marine captain.”
Cobra glanced at that print one more time and your pictures there with his sentiment, smiling warmly before he closed the newspaper.
“You know…” He started again not long after. “I think times are beginning to change in this world. I have to admit, when you first asked months ago for my public blessing to transition your Rain Dinners casino into a more permanent residence here in our country, it didn’t seem wise to me given your nature of remaining a pirate.”
Crocodile was still holding his cigar between his fingers then, outwardly concealing his full disgust as he did at least listen.
“But, the warlord program has clearly been working well for Dressrosa. By all accounts, they are thriving under your peer Doflamingo. He protects them. And now, I’d say they’re on their way to having a rather selfless queen as well. What she did for us in Scylla, I will never be able to fully repay her for.”
And even Crocodile’s expression shifted slightly there. Because he felt that change coming in Cobra with these next words.
“But I’m going to try to. So yes, I wasn’t going to approve your official residency and citizenship request at first. Even with you being a warlord, I suppose I still had learned misgivings about what powerful pirates can do to weaker targets. Yet, I’ve thought about these prior prejudices so much in the days since our experience in Scylla. And the way that captain has obviously deemed Doflamingo at least, as worthy of a second chance in life.”
Cobra even sighed a little there, taking a brief sip of the still warm tea that his servants had prepared earlier. “And you and I both know she will face some ridicule and shame for this choice regardless, being that her partner is also still a pirate. This wasn’t the only reason for my change of heart, mind you. But, I can’t deny that my desire to help her, especially now, will be a large part of my decision.”
The king smiled again there, but with a seriousness that still showed his understanding of the gravity of what he was conceding. “So I do grant your request to stay in Alabasta, Sir Crocodile. Partly for your agreed protection of our coasts of course, as I realize more than ever, the enemies we still have in this world. But also because I want to show that men even with histories like yours and Doflamingo’s can be offered these mercies later in life if earned. We will stand with Dressrosa in this regard. I will publicly support her choice of allying with a warlord, by doing much the same here in Alabasta.”
Crocodile’s stare was wider then. His breathing had paused.
Nothing was ever supposed to truly surprise him. And his hand returned that cigar to his mouth as he forced a smile.
The fucking audacity of this all still had his blood running so hot. His heart was pounding with hidden rage. But even Crocodile’s pride couldn’t surpass his sheer ambition any longer. He knew goddamn well what this meant for him in the end.
This new way into Nefertari Cobra’s confidence and the secrets of this kingdom now came with the ungodly price tag of warming back up to the Donquixote family.
“A sound decision, your highness.” Crocodile drawled through an exhale of cigar smoke though. “I can certainly protect this kingdom just as well as Dressrosa has been taken care of as you said. But even more so, this feels a bit like providence doesn’t it? Why, with your daughter being saved by such dear friends of mine…”
Vomit would have been far more pleasant to roll out over his tongue than those words.
But Doflamingo could be baited and used in a heartbeat. He’d come here with you in tow without question if invited. Crocodile knew this. Just like the card games at his casino, as soon as one hand had folded, another had been dealt to him.
His false smile remained. “In fact, if you truly wish to put your support for that soon to be Dressrosan queen front and center in the public eye, why not ask her to visit here? An engagement party of sorts? As further reward for her sacrifices to your family of course...”
And now it was Cobra’s turn to look surprised, though not at all unwilling for this new idea. “Oh, Vivi would love that.”
“As would your subjects.” Crocodile agreed.
And he did see Cobra glance briefly back up to Chaka and Pell who were still observing this conversation hesitantly as his bodyguards.
“It has been ages since we’ve had a proper ball…” Cobra mused.
The two zoan users looked at one another, but their king didn’t give them any real chance to respond.
It was clear that this thought had rooted in his mind. “Notify Igaram please. We’ll go over the details together, and I’ll let Vivi offer the official invitation once decided.”
Yet it already was decided, wasn’t it? Crocodile saw that. Just as clearly as he dreaded what a reversal of his own word this would be. He had sworn to never work with that bird again.
But using someone wasn’t the same as working with them. Or even denying the full blown hatred that remained for them, now was it?
Crocodile would still tear through each and every one of you without a second’s hesitation if Pluton could finally be his. And then, all these days in hell would be but a distant memory.
Temporary tortures endured by him for the achievement of his broader goals.
And torture would be the proper word for what would be coming. Because he could envision that freakishly long tongue slipping out from behind those bright white teeth even now.
Doflamingo would be elated. 
And Crocodile only had you to blame.
—————————— 
There’d been another note on the nightstand when you’d woken in Doflamingo’s bed in the morning sun. Just like that time on his ship on the way here from Scylla.
That beautiful handwriting that still seemed so disconnected from the ruthless individual who had penned it now stared up at you once more from clean, white paper. 
The curves and flourishes almost looked like they could move, flowing as your eyes narrowed with your now splitting headache, sitting up alone in the bed to read it.
“Good morning, my drunken wife. Though if you can read this, then congratulations. You’ve rejoined the living.
I doubt you’d be in the mood for more pain medication after the last time. But all you need do is ask and I’ll still provide. There’s no reason for you to suffer needlessly. Unless you just enjoy it of course.
I tasked Baby 5 with watching the door out in my suite for you. No unexpected visitors this time. I had some very time sensitive calls to make however, or else I’d still gladly be tangled up beside you. But I’ll check in on you soon.
Yours,
-D.D.”
You closed your eyes briefly then, trying to focus enough to not want to scream.
The haze of yesterday and last night could have been easily dismissed as only a fever dream.
If not for the reality of the diamond ring still around your finger. The only thing you were wearing actually besides a pained scowl as you opened your eyes again and left the bed. Dehydrated as usual and wishing for any semblance of relief.
Even now, you had the instinct that you weren’t supposed to be exploring Doflamingo’s private chambers without him.
Probably why he’d given you your own room to begin with. A safer holding cell for when he was away, before you and Trebol had immediately destroyed it anyway.
But fuck it. 
You were thirsty and still such a mess from last night as you crossed the bedroom.
And soon enough you found yourself standing alone in Doflamingo’s massive bathroom. With the centuries old mosaics and stonework that conflicted with his far brighter, modern tastes. 
It wasn’t your first time being here. But without him even lurking just beyond the door to wait for you, it felt entirely different.
You did your business, relieving yourself and flushing the toilet before standing again. Your bare feet then met his tacky pink rug as you pressed up against the marble sink. The floral scents of his cologne bottles lined up on the counter only messed with your overtaxed senses further.
You turned on the water, washing your hands with one of his fancy soaps, and rinsing them well before cupping your hands under that stream to bring the cool relief to your face.
And you drank it afterward as well. Because to hell with his weird freakout about this very thing back at the villa. You drank that water several times in fact, refilling the makeshift bowl that was then your cupped hands pressed together.
But as you did turn the water off and straightened back up, you caught your own movement out the corner of your eye.
In that floor to ceiling mirror that was well big enough for even Doflamingo to fully admire himself in the nude.
And you’d seen him do it. One too many lingering glances towards his own image in that reflective glass after showering.
But all you saw now was nothing near as flawless as him as you made that same mistake of also looking for too long. 
Into your tired, pained eyes. And over all the bruises now transitioning through every sequence of unnatural colors, while the trapped blood tried to dissolve for days at a time beneath your skin.
The shape of Doflamingo’s foot sole was still centered prominently over your sternum from that battle in the other bathroom as well. His love bites also along your shoulders and one deep enough to actually have thickly scabbed over on one of your hips.
You weren’t always quick enough with your armament when you were supposed to be experiencing pleasure. He’d kiss and lick you, bringing you nearly to orgasm, and then nail you with a real bite sometimes. 
It furthered his arousal at the complete loss of your own in moments like that.
And you didn’t want to see this anymore. 
Not right now.
You turned and stalked out of the bathroom before that disgust in yourself could fully take hold again. Before you could shatter that mirror and even the ancient stone behind it with your clenched fist.
Your luggage was just set against a wall in his bedroom when you came back to it. Like it didn’t belong here at all as you spitefully dug through it.
You put on your usual underwear, but with sweatpants over them this time. That and an old, long sleeve shirt as a top.
It was throw away shit, only fit for laying alone in a ship’s bunk late at night. But you were purposefully covering everything but your face, feet, and hands with it now.
You didn’t know what your plan even was anymore. You didn’t have one as you cracked open that tall bedroom door to exit into the hallway that led to the rest of the king’s suite.
And even with the warning of Doflamingo’s letter, you’d still paused at seeing Baby 5’s back while she stood silently at the window she’d apparently opened in the main sitting room.
She was staring out, not yet noticing you at all.
You’d considered still making a purposeful sound though. To spare you both the inevitable bad reaction of surprising her. You weren’t in the mood of dealing with that. But then you’d noticed the small cloud which rose up as she exhaled.
And something else still inside of you immediately reacted instead.
You didn’t know why. Because it wasn’t as if she was anyone you could actually help.
You couldn’t even help yourself in this place.
“And just how old are you to be doing that!?” You snapped at her regardless.
The girl made a frightened noise of course, eyes wide as she looked back over her shoulder with that lit cigarette still sticking out from between her lips.
Her hands went together in a begging gesture almost simultaneously too as her whole body then turned to face you in the realization of being caught. “He said you’d still be asleep! Please! Please don’t tell the Young Master!”
And her higher pitched plea was like a knife through your still throbbing head.
But you just couldn’t imagine why Doflamingo would care either. He’d thrown his child soldiers out into battle without hesitation for years. Why would any additional lung damage ever matter?
“What would he care?” You asked along with that thought as you approached. But your displeasure must have still been clear even as she didn’t answer.
One more look at you and she’d tossed that still lit cigarette right out of the open window rather than argue.
But that still wasn’t enough. Not for you. “Give it to me.” Your eyes narrowed at her anyway as you held your hand out tiredly, so close to her then.
“What?” She asked defensively, starting to back away.
“The pack, kid. Because you never answered me. What are you, fifteen?”
“Sixteen.” She looked at you with such indignity there, her defiance trying to return.
“Yeah, no damn difference.” But you saw the top of that small box sticking out of a pocket on the apron you hoped they didn’t make her wear. And you snatched the pack right from her, then and there.
“Hey!” She protested, exacerbating your headache yet again with the shrillness of her upset voice. 
Your head was hurting enough that you made your own choice next. You were already over this hangover pain. You needed to feel, taste, or do something different. Anything.
Baby 5 had paused as you opened the confiscated box just as smoothly and removed a single cigarette from it. 
It’s not like you’d ever said you were entirely fair either.
“Chill out. You owe me one for all your yelling anyway.” You sighed. “So give me a light, and I’ll at least let you keep the lighter.” You told her as you brought that fresh cigarette up to your own lips.
“You smoke?” She asked incredulously.
“No. Well, not cigarettes. Cigars…sometimes. I just-” But you realized that was far too honest for this moment. And you walked that comment back quickly. “No. I don’t smoke. Just light it already.“
It was not at all your desire to remind yourself of Smoker or anyone else right now. Of course he’d taught you how. Of course he’d let you try his, and thought it hot whenever you’d held one cigar between your fingers and the other between your teeth, breathing deeply for him while his own mouth had went to work much farther down your body.
You’d had your fun together. And it had meant something, at least to you. Those memories wouldn’t be erased just because Doflamingo said they should.
Yesterday, he’d told the papers you had no exes.
That it had always been him for as long as you’d been old enough to be with a man. That’s what that new timeframe meant, and you were sure he knew that.
He’d told them you’d been fucking a pirate since you’d even known how to fuck.
Baby 5 still stared at you, but she listened to your command regardless as she got the lighter from her other pocket. Likely just in that habit of her always being told what to do around here. 
You bent down enough for her to light the cigarette as you inhaled slightly to get the burn going.
And you did cough a couple of times, that shitty taste one you probably should have long forgotten when you’d first tried and ultimately rejected these years ago as a chore girl.
Baby 5 watched that too, almost entranced for a moment before your hand suddenly moved and you tossed that nearly full pack of her remaining cigarettes right out of the window as well.
“Ah! Why!?” She yelled again, as if you’d wounded her physically that time. While her gaze followed the tumble of the box and its fall multiple stories down until it was out of sight. 
“Because you don’t need it.” You grumbled, even with the utmost hypocrisy of taking yet another drag as you said so. 
“And neither do you.”
Both you and the girl straightened up then, looking to the open archway that connected back to the rest of the royal suite. 
Doflamingo’s long frame darkened it, slouched in that odd way of his with his hands in his pockets as he surveyed this new scene.
Yes, you were also starting to lose count of just how many times he’d now silently entered his own rooms to catch you off guard.
He must do it on purpose.
“Young Master! I didn’t do anything! I didn’t-” The teen tried.
“Out, Baby 5.” The warlord answered. Oddly calm, but non negotiable to his subordinate all the same.
And she didn’t have to be told twice. She slinked past him immediately, head down and fully submissive as she quickly exited.
Leaving you and Doflamingo then staring at one another with that burning cigarette still between your lips.
Your senses were still jumbled. You couldn’t yet feel his intent. And that worried you.
But it was a somewhat good sign when he did take off his glasses, propping them into his hair as usual when the two of you were alone. Though he still watched you sharply through his good eye.
“You love to test me…don’t you?” He said, straightening his tall posture as he moved closer. 
And you held your ground, even when seeing his focus move critically back to that burning cigarette. “I’m having a rough morning. I just wanted a distraction.” You exhaled as you spoke.
But he was so close already then, bending down to grin at you as he inhaled that smoky exhale of yours right into his own lungs.
“And I hate the smell of your ‘distraction’, love…because it lingers. I’ve told them all so many times. Anywhere else they want, just not in my private rooms.”
Yet you remained still as Doflamingo’s hand exited his pocket to so purposefully come up towards your face. His long fingers ran along your cheek softly, just before he plucked that cigarette right from your unsuspecting mouth in one harsh motion. 
Like yanking a weed out of a garden.
At least that’s what his brief glare seemed to say. That he was correcting you, just before his hungry lips covered where that cigarette had been. 
And you didn’t stop him. He’d even made a wanting noise soon enough, one that sounded fully involuntary with his tongue seeking deeper entrance as you parted your lips for him. 
His legs were bent as he tasted you and the remnants of that smoke, again and again actually.
And when he was done, you heard his harsher breathing just from that bit of intimacy. There was a reluctance in him even then as you saw that needful look briefly flicker through his eyes.
His other hand had now taken yours though while he began to lead you away from the window.
But not before he put that cigarette he’d abruptly taken from you into his own mouth.
“We are not making a habit of this. Do you understand?” He chided you again.
And of course you were staring, watching him smoke for the first time you’d ever seen.
He noticed your bit of awe too.
That taunting air of his resurfaced easily. “What? I’ve tried it all. Everything at least once. And many things several times more.” He didn’t even cough as you had, like he was proving that point. His lungs clearly didn’t care about this fresh assault.
“But like I said…” His lips downturned then as the humor left as quick as it had come. “I’ll never tolerate this specific smell on my things again.”
And you were now one of those “things” to him you were sure. With the further squeezing of his large hand around your smaller one just reiterating this idea, before he took and tossed that last cigarette out of the window as well to walk on with you.
“It actually takes years to fade you know.” He added even more seriously, not looking back at you anymore then.
He was pulling you now.
“Doffy…” It was obvious you didn’t have the will to resist him today. But he was already leading you both back towards the bedroom, which felt fully ridiculous and unwanted for you in this moment
Because he’d had all he wanted last night. You’d been a little drunk doll for hours, positioned this way and that to do whatever he pleased.
And Kizaru had caught you redhanded only to worsen it exponentially.
That pain of true humiliation went through you again as you did force yourself to speak, even when Doflamingo hadn’t acknowledged your prior plea of his name. 
You at least wanted some kind of update on the real status of your life before he’d just toss you on that bed again.
“Did anyone call from the marines yet this morning? Did the news coos come?” You knew it sounded like begging. Were you demoted? Discharged? Were you being called a traitor? How bad was it?
But he still didn’t look at you. And his voice sounded so odd when it did finally come.
“Your priorities need rearranging, little bird.”
His hand loosened slightly. But just enough for his fingers to move against that engagement ring you’d still never taken off.
You glanced down, feeling him briefly turning that band.
And then the two of you had passed the bed. You were standing before another large door as he pushed it open and pulled you through it. 
You went quiet, confused and surprised again as Doflamingo drug you into his closet without any further explanation.
Of course the simple description of “closet” was not near good enough either. Because it was a whole room of its own. Much bigger than even the one that was still supposedly yours in the other bedroom.
And Doflamingo did finally let go of your hand as he walked to the back of this space. 
He was looking for something while you stayed near the front, staring at the racks of clothing rather helplessly. His coats, suits, shirts, and more in just row after expensive row. 
Some garments were embroidered, some had real gold adornments and other precious stones. Everything was here. All the way from the gaudiest, neon colored capris pants you’d ever seen, to floor length furs and ceremonial uniforms truly befitting a Dressrosan king.
Your head tilted back a little too, then looking up as the glimmer of a literal crown and scepter sitting on a shelf above you caught your eye. They looked carelessly set aside, as if they were as unremarkable as an old pair of shoes to him before you heard him speak again.
“Come here.”
He’d been digging in the back corner, pushing away more of his suits that you’d never seen him wear in order to get to something.
And you had to trek across this  “closet” just to reach him.
But you stood there once you had, already uncomfortable before he shoved something large and black right in front of you. 
Your body reacted as if it were some sort of animal carcass, you taking a reflexive step back when those feathers shook all at once from his movement.
Doflamingo was holding the coat at the level of his waist then, and only had to extend his arms to follow you with it as you tried to move away.
“No. Smell it. And then tell me if you still think I’m full of shit.” He sounded irritated again for a moment there, as if he didn’t want to be holding this either for any longer than he had to be.
Of course the reasoning of this harsh new order made no sense to you at all. You just wanted to tell him to fuck off actually when this new weirdness began.
Yet you still felt like the biggest freak too as you were forced to let those black feathers graze your face anyway when he pressed it even closer instead and you finally inhaled.
It wasn’t strong, but it was definitely there.
“Cigarette smoke.” You confirmed, but still looking at him as if he was being insane again.
As usual.
But Doflamingo scoffed at your expression, just before doing the same to strangely smell that coat as well when he briefly brought it up to his face.
“This raggedy thing is almost six years old.” He said, somewhat quieter then. And he lowered it again after. But was still clutching the coat in one hand, as he watched you intently once more.
His glasses were still perched in his hair. And you saw a different look in that moment, just the slightest warning before he swept that black coat around to hang it over your shoulders. 
You tensed. And it was awkward and heavy, but no real difference to the pink ones he wore every day that you could tell.
But you said nothing in your obvious confusion. You only stood there, uncomfortably silent and waiting for the next touch, the next nonsensical action from him.
Yet Doflamingo was only staring at you for a few more moments, taking this all in like it meant something far different for him. 
Your eyes flitted to his hand, cautious of everything again now as he’d moved it to once more touch your face.
“He’d really hate this.” Doflamingo muttered as he grazed his knuckles softly down your cheek. “He was always so adamant about me letting you go.”
Your head was still aching horribly, surely interfering with your own powers of reasoning. But your heart only began to beat faster as his hand then moved down onto your shoulder next.
He was neatening the feathers there. But some were missing. As if they’d been singed and burnt away actually, you finally realized.
“Marine code zero, one, seven, four, six…” Doflamingo added from nowhere as your breath did stop.
“That’s not my code.” Your mouth and brain shot off reflexively then. All of you were trained to give your marine identification number when captured. To say it over and over if you had to under potential torture, rather than giving anything sensitive away that could hurt your crewmates. “My code is-”
“I know.” Doflamingo’s face was tense. His eyes met yours again.
And that all new dread sank into your chest as he did.
“That was his code. My baby brother…my Corazon.”
Your eyes widened as the full adrenaline began. 
In so many instances already there’d been these strange moments and the offhand comments about his blood family. All dead, all so seemingly triggering to him to ever speak of.
And you weren’t stupid. You were perceptive. But when every day and every night had you always still racing through the gauntlet of your own survival, it never allowed you the time to put any of these pieces together.
So he’d just thrown it right on top of you instead.
A dead man’s coat, now heavy in every meaning of the word as it hung across your already vulnerable frame.
“Rosinante…was a marine?” Your quiet voice both asked and confirmed at once. Because the silence was worse. And you didn’t dare look away from this pirate now.
“Yes.” Doflamingo answered directly that time. His long fingers still moving idly though, now nearer your breast, separating the individual feathers where this garment had evidently been crumpled against other things for years now.
He was actually preening you.
“This is just one of the coats he burned and left behind. I was always wasting money buying him new clothes. He could never take care of anything for long.”
Even with the almost neutral expression on Doflamingo’s face then, you still picked up on that real distaste in his tone. A true danger that made you try to force all of your energy away from your hangover and back to your very limited observation haki now.
You needed to focus.
This was no game anymore.
“I didn’t know.” You said in full honesty.
Doflamingo’s fingers paused too, his eyes moving back to your face with renewed skepticism that would have made a lesser soul cower.
“You really never met him?” He asked so plainly though.
“No.” You told the truth again.
The warlord scowled a bit.
“Well, I always talked to him about you.”
And you knew he saw that hint of surprise on your face again there that you couldn’t hide.
His eyes narrowed a little more in response to it. “You think I lie about everything, don’t you? I was telling the truth when I told the crowd I always wanted you. You had my attention years ago.”
That hand that had been neatening the feathers at your chest now moved all the way down to your hip as Doflamingo abruptly squatted onto his haunches in front of you.
His touch slipped so easily beneath the bottom of your shirt as he began to rub the skin of your waist. 
“I told my brother that you’d be mine. But he was too weak to last long enough to see it.” Doflamingo’s grip tightened a little more, holding you firmly by your waistline now, skin to skin. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, (Y/N)? He hid from me. He lied to me. He hurt me.”
“He was undercover.” You said in something not far above a whisper then. Acknowledging the true scope of what was now being revealed to you.
And Doflamingo’s eyes finally looked bothered. He was watching that growing upset in your own.
“You were there that night too. With Tsuru…weren’t you?” Doflamingo asked you. And you felt the warmth of his body as he moved in even closer, still squatted down before you.
“Minion Island? Yes…I was there.” You responded as he leaned his head against you so unexpectedly.
He wanted you to touch him in return as he still held your waist.
And you did reach up, the black coat shifting as your hand moved softly around the back of Doflamingo’s neck.
It took everything in you to keep your hand from trembling.
“He left me no choice.” Doflamingo breathed just as your grip met his skin.
The primal chill that went through to your very bones was linked only to the way his eyes had changed again then. No trace of remorse as he said these words to you.
And Doflamingo simply shifted, wanting you to rub him further.
So you began stroking the back of his neck as you felt his face briefly nuzzle you. Partly against your own clothes, partly against those black feathers of his dead brother as he now chuckled.
A sickening sound.
“He took everything I had left. My heart…my trust.”
But it wasn’t sad or mournful. That tone felt like loathing even as Doflamingo’s hand moved again beneath your shirt, his large palm splaying low onto your abdomen.
“And I want it back.” He reaffirmed.
He thought he was the only victim here.
He thought he was owed whatever he wished to take because of the things he’d already lost.
You felt his fingernails beginning to press soon after. Like a claw digging into you with that renewed show of possession.
His teeth were bared again.
“I want it from you.” His voice was so low then, this demon of a man practically sitting on the floor now as he pushed your shirt further up.
“Give it back to me.”
You felt his lips against your stomach next, just before he whispered once more.
“Bear me my new Corazon.” 
———————————
    T⨂  BE 
CONTINUED
———————————
Thanks for reading!
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god I hate this class so much it's almost unreal
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cerise-on-top · 5 months
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heyhey!! just wanted to say your works are amazing and i love them so so so SO much aagghhh!!
now onto the request— what if,, what if reader knew a ton of languages like nikolai does, and they call their s/o pet names in those languages. an example would be,, maybe if they knew french they would say 'mon chéri' or perhaps they picked up romanian at some point and would call them 'dragă'
the characters i have in mind are price, nik, alejandro, & rudy, if that's okay !! (´▽`)
sorry for the super long ask, lol :')
Hey there! Thank you, that makes me really happy to hear :D And don't worry about sending longer asks, I really don't mind ^^ Also, that request is really cute! I love reader speaking several languages and being a sweetheart in all of them :D
Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Nikolai with an S/O who Knows Many Languages
Price: I think he knows quite a few languages himself, being a captain in the SAS and all. Not nearly as many as Nikolai, but he probably knows a good three to four languages, so he likely wouldn’t be entirely clueless when you call him something along the lines of mon petit chou fleur. While he won’t understand every term of endearment you call him, it does warm his heart to hear you speak a language he doesn’t know. It flows off your tongue very nicely and he just loves listening to you. Depending on what kind of language it may be, even the profanities sound nice. Although whenever you want to get his attention, just to call him something in a language he doesn’t understand, he sort of expects it to be some cute pet name. Will always smile at you, even if you were to call him your albernes kleines Kaninchen. Retorts with a pet name in one of the languages he speaks. Sometimes he does feel the urge to learn a new language, just for you. Or maybe you could learn a new language together? Practice with each other and just have a good time overall? He might bring up the idea at some point.
Alejandro: Like Price, he probably knows a few languages himself. More than the average person, but not nearly as many as Nikolai. So probably three to four as well. However, because he knows Spanish there’s a good chance he can derive most words in a Romance language. Call him something along the lines of giliw and he’ll always retort with some embarrassing pet name in Spanish. Yes, he knows several languages himself, but that doesn’t mean he won’t almost always revert to Spanish anyway. Pretends that you’re using your languages against him and calls you a traitor. And, as is the rule in your household when you’ve betrayed him, you will be held accountable. Lots of chasing through the house. Will “interrogate” you to get you to tell him what you said. Call him a term of endearment in Spanish and you won’t ever hear the end of it. No matter how many times he hears you call him guapo, he always gets that goofy grin on his face. Might research embarrassing terms of endearment to use on you in any other language. And yes, his goal is to find a language you don’t speak. Once he’s found one? He’s not gonna let you live it down. He’s bested you, and that’s all he wanted.
Rodolfo: You’d actually have to call him by his name if you want his reaction since he usually just tends to block out people speaking a language he doesn’t know. Why bother trying to understand someone like that? It’s not like he’ll learn the language overnight anyway. Rodolfo knows about three languages, so not as many as Alejandro. But he knows English and Spanish, which means he can communicate in most places anyway. He thinks he knows enough languages since learning one takes roughly an eternity and he doesn’t have the time for that anyway. Call him Cục vàng and he’ll just look at you as though you’ve grown a second head. You’d have to tell him what it means and then he’ll smile. While he will always appreciate a good Hartlam, he might look at you confused until you tell him you love him. Might not always retort with a pet name of his own, but will mix it up among the languages he does know since he doesn’t wanna seem too stupid next to you. Will also sometimes look up new terms of endearment in languages he doesn’t know so he can surprise you, but might get a bit shy since he might botch the pronunciation a bit. But he tries, and that’s all that matters.
Nikolai: He canonically knows eight languages, so there’s a good chance he knows what you’re saying. Even when you’re saying something in a language he might not entirely know, he might be able to derive the word from a language he does know. Although he may love any pet name you give him, he especially loves any Russian ones since he’s very attached to his country and his native tongue. Goes absolutely wild whenever you call him radnoy. There’s just something so sweet about you calling him something nice in Russian, doesn’t even matter if you botch the pronunciation. Will always give you a hug and a kiss to your forehead since he will always be reminded of how much he loves you. But even a simple min søde skat will get him to smile, even if he has no idea what it means this time. Because of you he might be inspired to pick up some new languages along the way, maybe even ones you don’t know so you can get the same treatment he does with you. Whenever you speak a language he doesn’t know he gets heart eyes for you. You’re just so gorgeous, you’re just so very smart. However, at some point he will just start speaking Russian to you, even if you don’t know the language. He won’t say anything mean, he’ll just tell you how precious you are and how much he loves you.
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ofhouseadama · 2 years
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i keep thinking about how people's voices often sound different in different languages and like. garak hearing for the first time julian speaking kardasi instead of julian's voice being filtered into kardasi via the UT and how it changes his voice and timbre and pitch and losing his mind a little bit
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arolesbianism · 1 month
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Doodle of my boy
#keese draws#eternal gales#oc art#oc#fydd <3333333333#he is my bestie I need to get over my fear of drawing him so bad#grips bathroom sink I Will get better at drawing for fun and letting my art be messy and being proud of it anyways#but yeah look at him he is so cute and is so silly and he’s never gone through any traumatic events ever I would never#<- lying lier who lies and loves tormenting it’s ocs#but yeah he’s half alien half human but was raised entirely by his human mom#his alien mom is alas stuck in the cult the two met at rip#fydd doesn’t know abt any of that tho he just knows that he has another mom that his mom doesn’t like talking abt#he loves playing games of all kind but especially loves video games and will play them for hours#not that he has much else to do since he’s spent pretty much his entire life living by a garbage dump in the middle of nowhere#and he’s not allowed to go fuck around in the dump much since his mom doesn’t want him to be seen so he’s stuck at home most of the time#thankfully now he has an adopted sister to play with but he still has viddy game autism#his mom has done her best to introduce him to the various cultures she and his other mom came from but she struggles with it#she was quite disconnected from her own culture growing up and she knows limited amount about her girlfriends home planet#fydd doesn’t mind much rn cause he’s 12 but a certain other older fydd might care a smidge more#fydd does like 60% know both japanese and spanish tho so that’s pretty cool#his mom tried to do regular lessons when he was younger but wasn’t able to keep them up consistently and eventually gave up#mostly because she wasn’t anywhere near fluent in either herself and she had a hard time keeping up with how fast fydd would pick up on it#they still have some books from back then laying around that fydd will pick up and read aloud when he’s bored sometimes#he gets bored of speaking english all the time as his brain is built to pick apart different sounds and assign them linguistic meaning#so reading and speaking different languages is good enrichment for him#his mom doesn’t know this unfortunately otherwise she totally would have gotten him more stuff in different languages to chew on#he does get to learn the language the stalien cast speaks tho he has a lot of fun with that#he alas can’t properly experience most stalien video games though rip#I should rly get to redesigning his human mom again at some point she needs it sooo bad#I mean her whole squad needs it but she’s my favorite so like
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the-cookie-of-doom · 11 months
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fun fact about me, I have a full drum kit and an electric guitar (neither of which I can play) and a very fancy keyboard that I can play, technically, but the only song I still remember is the Star Wars Theme
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bednbunfast · 1 year
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everything feels like it's falling apart,,
#☕️ | chatter#chise go to BEEEEEDDDDDD#hhhhhh i'm just#ive been thinkingnabout how i speak sometime s#and imnsorry ifni ever made anyone uncomfortable because i can get pretty sarcastic#sometimes?? maybe#i dont knwo#im sleepy...goodnight to people ?#ior good morning! idk#ior...iori...oh my god i forgot about iori my little guy my silly oc#i need to redesign him....#funny how i was unapologetically the most sarcasting little shit in junior high and then completely lost the sass in shs because of the fuck#ing pandemic man. i wanna be a little shit again#or not...i may have been roasting the class pres and he sent me to help clean woth the library when the tracher asked of someone was naughty#is naughty even the right wordi cant remember fuck i hate language barriers and words fhat can never truly be expressed#like?? to fully understand something in another language translating it isnt enough you need to#actually learn the langauge#because the contecnt and context and everything is just..lost#some words are not translated correctly to what it actually means andit frustrates me#gods punishment for the tower of babel isnsntupid iland i hate him for it#also like ive been asking people if jesus had a choice in becoming sacrifice and my granma said no and shes religous so nowni feel bad for#him bevaus ehe had no choice ornsomething idunno im itred#gnnfor reals#im sory agaij im just#i dontnknkw whay im supposed to be doing#taling with new people are jard so im so sordh#if i sound weird#im not very good at speaking with new people
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californiaquail · 2 years
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"having a nice quiet day indoors crocheting and listening to music" sounds very nice and pleasant until you try it and realize crocheting involves a lot of swearing and pausing the music to return to your youtube tutorial on how to make a square which is supposed to be "easy" and "for beginners" but you've had to restart it 7 billion times and your nice wool yarn is getting shredded by the amount of times you've ripped out various irregular shapes that are not quite recognizable as squares or anything else
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eyivibyemi · 1 year
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✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧
#I actually like the background piano of this more than I like the weird singing improvised over it#probably just because it was vaguely cool to clank out something that even vaguely sounds like maybe an actual chord#that might exist or something despite - again- having so little clue about the piano or how to read music that I could#not even point out like what the names of the notes are or etc. ghghjbj#Which is still funny because if you improvise something and also have no idea how to read or identify musical notes then you will#never be able to play it again because you couldn't identify how to lol. THAT'S WHY I LIKE singing!!! I could hear any tune once and on the#spot repeat it back exactly as long as it's within the range of noises I am physically capable of producing#But with tangible insturments it's like... you have to memorize.. the names of things. or where to put your hands. or#be able to name and recognize something and keep that in your head. Whereas voice noises just come instinctually and naturally#I do think I could probably learn an instrument if I really tried but I guess the thing is just like.. I already have 4724867289 other hobb#es that I am trying to split my time between that I barely have enough energy to dedicate to all of them and hardly make#progress at any of them because I'm spread so thin jumping back and forth between them. should i REALLY pick up another???#one thats going to take years and years and lots of practice?? It's kind of like learning languages. I REALLY want to learn some other#languages and I'm not like terrible at it from times that I've started to beofre in school and stuff. but it's just like.. do I really have#the TIME?? I think I need a logical justification to warrant a certain level of investment like.. if I knew for certain that in a year I'd#be moving to france then of course I could dedicate many hours to learning french because now it's necessary and despite#all of my other projects that I have going on I need to make time for it. But if I'm just learning it for the sake of doing it? then??#why should I not simply dedicate that same amount of time to my writing or my sculptures or something else? etc?? Like if I for some reason#was talked into starting a band with one of my friends or something then yeah maybe I'd learn an instrument but. I just see no#practical need to or way to justify the time investment when I currently have so many other things going on and music is my silly hobby lol#ANYWAY.. all that to say. BECAUSE I have no clue what I'm doing and likely never will. then even when I do the most basic#boring sounding bit of barely passable zero skill hardly capable piano plonking or something I'm always like#wowww. wow. I did something. wow. music is so magical. peace and love on planet earth. hhbjhbjhb#ANYWAY.. so I like the background more than the singing but. eh. still sounds a little fantasy elf choir-esque#bantasy tag
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depresseddepot · 1 year
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oughhhghh where is that "don't trust anything you think abt your life past 9pm" post when you need it
#its ''feel like an alien'' hours once again#recently ive been trying to unmask a little bit but even that tiny bit is like. breaking the dam of how weird i am#ive barely scratched the surface and im already starting to get those Looks that i haven't gotten since middle school#i wouldn't mind masking at work if i could just figure out how the hell to correctly bounce back questions#like the 10 year old in me gets so desperate to talk about herself in a genuine fashion that i can't stop myself#unless i am 100% masking. like even a little bit less and i overshare like an idiot#i dont really care to learn body language yet but i need to know how to refuse to answer personal questions#without making it weird#like allistics seem to just Know how to carefully roll with those questions without actually saying anything#''you should be genuine bc you'll feel better'' there is very little that makes me feel worse than oversharing at work#i work with conservatives baby. a little oversharing here and there leads to them finding shit out abt me that they WILL use against me#and i do not trust myself enough to not actually tell them in the moment because i can't fucking lie to save my life#when someone asks me a genuine question i just can't do anything other than offer a genuine answer#and i want to stop ! i dont feel comfortable sharing these things about myself so why wont i shut my fucking mouth!!!!!#i need to learn to let people simmer in silence. i am always too focused w filling the silence to prevent people seeing how weird i am#its always another little fucking quip with me. i can never just shut my fucking mouth#sorry#vent
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lupizora · 15 days
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Since I finished my yearly re-read of the Tantei Gakuen Q/Detective Academy Q manga, I guess it's time I finally started reading the Kindaichi series after all this time 🤔
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delicateimage · 10 months
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I’m scared because I think I’ve accepted dying to my eating disorder yesterday
#all the motivation to eat is just totally gone. I hate it so much it’s just like a crashing wave of depression whenever I have to#there is just absolutely no joy in eating anymore like atleast. nit eating satisfies the ana part in my brain but eating just mentally kills#me#I hate how weak it makes me not physically but like mentally#whenever I’m not eating like even if it’s during a fast I can muster up energy and motivation like I’ve been able to exercise and learn a#new language again but omg whenever I eat I just can’t do anything sometimes I can but mentally I’m sc@ed and just wanted to crawl on the#floor shrivel up and die#also I’ve been having weird dreams lately I’m scared they’re like prophetic or something but I don’t know where they’re coming from#oh and most of all I hate how sad my family is because of this… if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t even of had the courage to recover so#them seeing me fail is so painful#but why does actually being healthy and having a healthy relationship with food seem scarier….#like the ed is just over and over and over again telling me PHONY PHONY WORTHLESS WASTE POSER YOURE YSING THEM#ugh#I think today accepting death might get worse#I just got reminded of my best friend and how losing contact to her is so awful#there’s like a tear in my heart now I was never able to notice but ever since we stopped talking it’s always been there and it hurts so much#and I’m just realizing 5hat now….#like there’s no one on earth that could fill the importance she had in my life. she helped me through so much and I’ve just now realized how#much I’ve taken her for granted#it’s like another form of death in a way because how could I ever go back to having that relationship or in the same way#it’s like losing my older sister.. :(#I’d love to send her something like even just a letter thanking her because idk if she just wants to like#never talk to me again but#I think it would be easier to come to terms with everything that way…#it’s weird not knowing if you’ll die at 17 or 70 and you just have to like figure out while living every moment accepting it#somet8mes accepting the fact I will die brings a lot of comfort it usually does anyways#also it’s ed brain twlking but I’ve never felt like I’ve suffered enough to deserve my treatment#like I’ve never had the guts to just fully malnourish myself enough to have this hospitalization scare floating over be valid#especially after I’ve gained weight#and everything’s just crashing down reminding me of when I was 14 and had my first deep ed era
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sophiamcdougall · 1 year
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I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again
I mean, I am. But still.
So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.
So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.
At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.
Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell
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So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.
I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.
This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.
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Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.
I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.
Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.
We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.
"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."
"A what," he asks.
"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"
"Oh! A turtle!" he says.
"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.
The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.
"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.
"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.
"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.
"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??
The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?
I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.
"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."
"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.
"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!
So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.
(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)
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prongsx · 8 days
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Favors in exchange for kisses
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warnings: kisses, English its not my first language, small mention of blood. f!reader
1,5 K words
⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷《 ✮ 》⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷
You don't know exactly how you got into this situation with Jason. But you're not complaining.
It started months ago, when your long-time friend Dick Grayson heard you complaining about not having a place to live and mentioned that he knew someone you could trust to share an apartment with, with his brother, Jason Todd.
You were hesitant to accept, after all, you didn't know Jason Todd, but this was Gotham, and finding someone you could trust to share an apartment with was almost impossible. And it would only be for a while.So you went to live with Dick Grayson's brother.
Jason was kind of quiet, mysterious, and his blue eyes left you a little confused and breathless. It took you a while to be able to have meaningful conversations with him, it was hard to learn more about him, but little by little you won a small space in his life.You discovered his favorite books, learned his schedule, understood how sometimes he didn't want to talk, other times he was more open, and you learned to appreciate those moments when you both talked, laughed and smiled softly.
Then came the biggest problem.
Jason was too helpful.
You simply didn't know how to deal with someone who did so many acts of service. When he found out that banana pancakes were your favorite, he woke up early and cooked them. When you complained about that wood that was making noise in the living room, he fixed it immediately. Even when carrying your bag down the street, he would magically appear and hold it. Your coffee was always with those three drops of milk, just the way you liked it.
And when you tried to reciprocate, he seemed almost offended. Like the time you made a big meal, he was offended, you seemed tired from the effort and he didn't like that. Even when you cleaned his things he seemed irritated, you weren't supposed to do things for him.
After months of looking for ways to thank him for his helpfulness, you discovered it in an unusual way. Your room wasn't fully furnished, even months after moving in you were still buying furniture and needing to assemble it. Jason dismissed all the delivery people from the store and said he would assemble it himself, using the excuse that he didn't like strangers in his space.
"You spoil me," you joked with him, sitting on the floor as you watched Jason working on your new vanity. It wasn't a bad sight, Jason's large hands proving skillful and efficient, his t-shirt revealing his biceps that made you a little dizzy.
"I find doing manual labor relaxing." He replied, glancing at you and smiling slightly. You hummed in response, resting your chin on your knees and admiring Jason. You wanted so badly to find something to thank him for, something to show him that you were grateful for him.
When he finally finished the job, he stood up and held out his hand to help you. After gaining momentum, your hands instinctively went to his arm and gave it a squeeze.
"Thank you so much, Jay."
He was silent, you were silent. It seemed too intimate a touch, you were nervous, afraid he wouldn't like it, that he would ask you to never touch him again, which would be a shame because your hands could feel the heat of his skin. Then he smiled. He smiled, a dimple in his cheek.
"Nothing, princess."
After that, the touches became more frequent. Every time he did something adorable, you would touch his arms or his hand. Like the time he carried all your college books for meters and you held his hand in thanks (you stayed like that for longer than usual).
Another big step was when you arrived tired, from a horrible day, and you found Jason smiling shyly at you, the apartment smelling of your favorite food. As you washed dishes side by side, your hips touching, you lifted your feet and kissed his cheek, whispering a thank you. His reaction was adorable, his neck slightly red, his eyes blinking at you in a silly way that made you smile back.
So you continued, becoming a little bolder every time he did something to please you. It seemed impossible now to go back to the time when you didn't touch him, and you could swear he liked it. There were times when you could almost feel him sigh when your kiss on his cheek went all the way to his jaw.
When he came back from patrol, bruised and bleeding, he wouldn't let you help him. He would never dirty your soft hands with his blood. But he enjoyed it when you sat next to him, stroking his hair and talking to him in that calm tone, trying to make him relax with more pleasant conversations. A routine was established.
Jason was a little quiet sometimes. At first you thought he was grumpy and moody, but you soon discovered that he was just someone with poor social skills, and you managed to establish a way to show that you cared about each other.
"Hum, I stopped by the pharmacy, but your order had already been picked up." You jumped, startled by Jason's sudden arrival. For such a big guy, he had an impressive ability to be silent. Damn Batman training.
"Jay, hi." You greeted, as you leaned on the kitchen counter, casually scrolling through your phone. "Dick got it for me, he was just passing by."
He fell silent, making you look up from your phone to look at him. Jason's eyebrows were furrowed, his lips forming a frown.
"Why?" You blinked slowly.
"Why what?"
"Why Dick got it for you. I was going to get it for you." He looked almost... annoyed, frustrated that he hadn't gotten the product for you.
You blinked slowly again, tilting your head.
"He...was closer. I didn't mean to bother you."
He let out a huff, looking annoyed, like when a dog sees his owner reading a newspaper another dog brought.
"Jay?" You called out to him, almost shivering when his blue orbs stared at you.
"I'm the one who does your things. Why is that idiot Dick getting involved?"
"I don't want you to feel like you're my employee, that's all."
He huffed again, looking indignant. Another problem with Jason Todd: he didn't say what he was feeling, it was like trying to win the lottery with blurry numbers. Then he approached you, his posture looking like he was preparing to interrogate a criminal, his hands resting on the counter.
"Did you kiss him?"It certainly wasn't what you expected to hear. Your mouth fell open, your eyes wide.
"What?"
It was the only intelligent thing your lips formed.Jason still had that indignant look on his face, his blue eyes half-closed. He was too close and you felt a little cornered, the kitchen seemed small, the air harder to breathe. You stared back at him.
"Why do you think I kissed Dick?" You repeated, still that confused expression. You would be offended if your brain was working perfectly.
"You kiss me when I do favors for you!" He murmurs.
Oh. That was it.
You let out a breath, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.
"Jason. Do you think I kiss the mailman every time he brings letters?"
"God, I hope not."
You both stay silent, your hands going to the hem of his shirt, unable to control yourself, squeezing it between your fingers, the weight of the unspoken words.
"Jay. You know...you don't have to do me favors to receive my affection, right?" You whispered, your eyes roaming all over his face, his beautiful features, his slightly crooked nose, his lips that looked so kissable.
"But I like it. I like taking care of you. Fuck, I want to take care of you always."
He himself seemed shocked by the intensity of the words, his eyes widening, his heart beating out of control, just like yours.
"Jay." You let out a breath, your hands rising to his face, caressing his cheekbones. You shivered when his hands held your hips, keeping you firmly against the counter. You didn't know what it would be like to kiss Jason, of course, you had already thought about it a lot, more than was healthy.
And when you finally pulled his face to you, pressing your lips, slightly chapped but still soft, against his. You dominated the kiss for a few seconds, being gentle as you held his face, but then something seemed to snap in Jason, he held you with impressive ease, pressing your hips against the counter and thrusting his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your soft moan. His hands were all over your body, hungry, as if he couldn't lose you.
"Only I can take care of you," he growled against your lips, his breathing heavy.
"Yes. yes," you said, caught in the haze of Jason's kisses, your eyes almost closing again.
"Good," he whispered, before kissing you again, fiercely, his hands gripping the back of your neck.
You were fine with this deal of favors in exchange for kisses.
⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷《 ✮ 》⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷
Inspired by a post I saw about Jason's love languages headcanon. Jaybean is just a guy who doesn't know how to show love in a normal way!!! But we love him anyway. I hope you liked it! I'm very happy to start posting things here, slowly gaining courage.
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